The exposure of the Salvation Church dealt a critical blow to the Ducal House. The Four Major Orders had declared the Salvation Church heretical, and lords aligned with the Ducal faction began defecting one by one. The defection of Marquis Rodrick, in particular, was a devastating blow. As a powerful noble, his alignment with the Royalist faction caused others to scramble to proclaim their innocence, desperate to disassociate themselves from the heresy. The situation had reached a point where the Ducal House could no longer feign ignorance. Under normal circumstances, even if the Salvation Church's affiliates had confessed, they would have been dismissed unless definitive evidence was presented. But with the Four Major Orders taking the lead and designating the Salvation Church as a continental enemy, any reversal on their part would have undermined their authority. Both sides were now locked in an inescapable standoff. Bang! Raul, the chief strategist of the Ducal House, slammed his desk and glared at the middle-aged man cloaked in black before him. "Judge Gathros! How could this happen? And why now, just before the war? This makes everything infinitely more difficult!" Just as Ghislain and Marquis Rodrick had begun their war, the Ducal House had been rallying its vassals and completing preparations. Yet instead of unity, the Ducal faction’s lords had betrayed them en masse. The Ducal House now faced the entire kingdom, along with the Orders, leaving them at an overwhelming disadvantage. "Facing the entire kingdom is feasible. But the Four Major Orders? That’s too much. Even if we win, other nations will intervene! And what about the ‘Gate’? Marquis Branford has discovered its location!" Raul's voice rose in frustration. The news of the ‘Rift’ location being uncovered had just arrived. The resulting uproar across the kingdom was beyond Raul’s ability to contain. The man addressed as Gathros responded calmly, his sharp gaze fixed on Raul. "It seems Lavier made a grave mistake. If only the crusaders had been discovered, we might have managed to salvage the situation. But for them to uncover the Gate’s location..." The Gate was the one place that absolutely could not be exposed. Yet Lavier’s blunders had prompted Marquis Branford to mobilize his forces. "If it had been limited to Lavier’s death site, it could have been dismissed as a coincidence. But their precise targeting of other locations implies that information leaked from within." "...Are you saying we have a traitor in our midst?" "Perhaps. Or Lavier may have revealed something before his death. But at this point, nothing is certain." "Then what should we do? We can’t make any moves right now. Of course, neither can they." The Royalists and the Four Major Orders, despite their proclamations, hesitated to strike directly at the Ducal House. The House’s power was simply too formidable—a cat attempting to bell the lion. However, everyone understood that a confrontation was inevitable, leading to a state of unbearable tension. Gathros pondered for a moment before asking, "What has the Apostle said on this matter?" The Apostle referred to Duke Ernheart Delphine, the leader of the Salvation Church. Despite his title, Ernheart rarely voiced his opinions, even as the Church entrusted him with the Apostle’s mission. Raul shook his head. "As always, he’s told us to handle it ourselves. But I’m certain he’s disappointed. The Grand Design has been delayed multiple times already..." "What of Executor Aidеn?" "Currently on standby. The plan was to have him head north as soon as war with the Royalists broke out, but things are in a stalemate for now. Marquis Rodrick and Count Ghislain are at each other’s throats." "Who do you think will win?" "It’s a fifty-fifty chance. Marquis Rodrick has the numbers, but Count Ghislain has reached the Master rank." Gathros nodded thoughtfully, pausing before speaking again. "I understand. For now, wait. I need to observe the situation a bit longer." The Salvation Church was growing increasingly uneasy. They needed to confirm just how much the Royalists knew about the Rift’s location. Soon, however, they realized the situation was far more dire than anticipated. Marquis Branford of the mighty Rutania kingdom, a figure known even in other nations, had sent letters to every kingdom. These letters detailed the Salvation Church’s deeds and the locations of the Rifts. Reactions across the kingdoms varied. "The Four Major Orders confirmed this?" "Is it true that these heretics have been operating in our lands as well?" "This is absurd!" "If it’s coming from Marquis Branford, we can’t dismiss it." "At the very least, we need to investigate..." Amusingly, some powerful figures in certain kingdoms refused to act. But the Orders' pressure could not be ignored. Soon, evidence of the Salvation Church’s actions surfaced in other kingdoms as well. The continent was thrown into chaos. The realization that an underground cult had been operating for years, murdering countless people, sent shockwaves across the land. Rumors spread uncontrollably, and intellectual circles responded with outrage. "What were the nobles doing all this time?" "Too busy lining their pockets to notice a cult killing people under their noses!" "This kingdom needs reform!" The uproar ignited revolutionary fervor, emboldening insurgents and drawing more supporters to their cause. Meanwhile, nobles allied with the Salvation Church, unable to withstand the mounting pressure, raised their armies. Unlike Delphine’s Ducal House, other kingdoms had few nobles powerful enough to resist the royal authority. "Rebellion has erupted in the Kingdom of Ceylon!" "The Kingdom of Turian is embroiled in civil war..." "The Kingdom of Moravis has begun attacking the Orders..." The entire continent was ablaze with conflict. Faced with this escalating chaos, the Salvation Church could no longer remain in the shadows. They revealed themselves openly, supporting allied nobles while forcibly converting people in regions under their control. "What a mess." Raul could only mutter those words as he reviewed the reports. The entire continent had descended into chaos, all because of one man. "Count Ghislain..." How could one man wield such immense influence? Not only had he dismantled the Ducal House’s plans, but he had also captured Lavier and exposed the Salvation Church’s schemes. Gathros rebuked Raul as well. "Why wasn’t he dealt with earlier? His actions have not only jeopardized our plans but also revealed our true identity prematurely. Half of the Gates we prepared have already been sealed." "..." Raul had no defense. The downfall of Rutania was his responsibility. Who could have anticipated that a mere upstart from the North would grow so powerful in just a few years and unravel everything? Gathros, understanding Raul’s frustration, refrained from pressing further. His own words reflected his regret. "Somehow, many of the Gates have been sealed. Lavier might have confessed under duress or fallen victim to some form of mental manipulation. But how that was possible..." No mental manipulation could have worked on someone of Lavier’s caliber, nor could he have willingly confessed. But if that weren’t the case, there was no other explanation for their predicament. "We have no choice," Gathros concluded grimly. "We must open the remaining Gates before they are sealed as well." "But the Gates are still unstable," Raul protested. "We can’t afford to wait any longer. At this rate, we’ll be the ones destroyed first. The other Judges agree." The Salvation Church had become the enemy of the entire continent. Neither they nor their noble allies could fight every kingdom alone. Their only hope lay in summoning another force entirely. "Our plans have gone awry, but the chaos is enough for our purpose. The appointed time is nearly here." Thud! Gathros struck his staff against the ground. "Relay this to all followers in Rutania: The time has come to open the Gates. The Holy War to create a new world begins now." *** "This is what the lord has accomplished." "Hmm." At Claude's words, Ghislain chuckled, satisfied. The entire continent was in turmoil. Kingdoms everywhere were raising their armies to destroy the Salvation Church and seal the Rifts. Even Claude hadn’t anticipated the situation escalating to such an extent. What Ghislain had set in motion had grown into a continent-wide crisis. In some ways, it was impressive. In others, it was almost absurd. Of course, for Ghislain, this development was nothing but favorable. They’ve finally become aware. In his previous life, no one had been prepared. No armies had been mobilized, and so the initial phases of the calamity had been disastrous. But this time, things were different. The number of Rifts had significantly decreased compared to before, and the growing awareness of the Salvation Church had heightened the vigilance of the lords. Yet there was always a problem: there were bound to be those who refused to listen. "What about the ones who insist on studying the Rifts?" "They’ve left one or two in each kingdom, saying they want to understand what they are. It seems even the mutated beings have piqued their curiosity." "Ha... They never listen, do they? After all the explanations I gave?" "People have a tendency not to believe anything unless they see it for themselves. And, of course, they want to figure out if they can use it somehow." It had been the same in his previous life. Plenty of people had been obsessed with figuring out how to exploit the Rifts for their own power. The information Ghislain had shared about the Rifts was limited. Even he couldn’t recall every Rift that had existed in his past life. Some he had never encountered, others were too far away, or simply hadn’t been worth his attention. There were gaps in his knowledge, inevitably. There were likely Rifts he had missed within the Kingdom of Rutania as well. Reducing the number of Rifts was critical to minimizing casualties, but some lords were intentionally leaving discovered Rifts untouched. If even one of these opened, the consequences would be catastrophic. After hearing the report, Ghislain clicked his tongue in frustration. "Tsk. I can’t personally go around closing them all. They’ll only come to their senses after taking a beating." "Let’s make sure we’re fully prepared first." "Yes, we must. The battles ahead will be fiercer than ever." Ghislain had shared basic information about the Rifts with his vassals. Naturally, he had also passed it along to the Royalist faction. He had explained how those living near the Rifts gradually mutated and how mysterious, unidentified entities would emerge from them. Although many wondered how Ghislain had come by such knowledge, his claim that he had learned it from Lavier sufficed. The discovery of mutated beings lent credence to his warnings, allowing his claims to be accepted without further dispute. "What about the movements of the Salvation Church?" "They’re working with allied lords. While their numbers aren’t vast, their priests wield considerable power. In particular, the high-ranking priests, though few, are said to possess strength on par with superhumans." "Subjugating all of them won’t be easy." "Each kingdom is in a different situation. Some are cornering them, while others are seeing their influence expand. There are few places as stable as Rutania." "Naturally. Attacking the Delphine Ducal House isn’t easy." The strength of the Ducal House was widely known, making it a daunting target even with the Four Major Orders involved. Adding to the challenge were the high-ranking priests of the Salvation Church, whose power rivaled that of superhumans. However, Ghislain's forces were no longer insignificant. The fact that the region was relatively stable indicated that even the Ducal House couldn’t ignore the Royalist faction’s power. But this stability was unlikely to last. "Now that the Salvation Church has made their move, this situation won’t hold for long." "Do you think they’ll use the Rifts?" "Of course. It’s the best way to weaken the lords and spread chaos." Claude nodded gravely, his expression serious. "Yes, we need to act quickly." His stern expression wasn’t due to the gravity of the situation; he was simply overwhelmed by the growing workload. Ghislain nodded as well and asked, "Have we secured enough Fairy’s Blessings?" "Yes, we’re managing the sources well. We’ll be able to continue supplies for several years." The Fairy’s Blessing was the most critical ingredient for potions, and thanks to it, Fenris had stockpiled an impressive supply of potions. These potions were being delivered to Ferdium as well. But the Fairy’s Blessing wasn’t only being used for potions. "How’s the development of the other medicine?" "We’ve diluted it significantly for mass production. A single root can now produce hundreds of doses." "Good. We’ll need a lot of that ‘medicine.’ Keep ramping up production." "Understood. But... do we really need this much?" "Yes, not for us, but for others. Share the formula with the Royalists. Make sure Marquis Branford sends it to other kingdoms as well." "Understood." Until now, this had been Ghislain’s fight alone. But that was no longer the case. Even with the Rifts reduced, the threat they posed remained. What could be shared must be shared, and what could be taught must be taught. Only then would they be able to stand against the looming continental catastrophe. Fenris, under Ghislain’s guidance, accelerated the development of new medicine while bolstering recruitment and arms production. More soldiers and better armaments—that was Ghislain’s goal. At the same time, they worked tirelessly to stabilize the Western territories. Everyone was busier than ever. One evening, as the people of Fenris bustled about with their tasks, the residents of the territory gathered outside to look at the sky. "Wow, how beautiful!" "I’ve never seen so many shooting stars!" "Quick, make a wish!" Bright meteors streaked across the dark sky, their brilliance captivating the people. The shooting stars seemed endless, spreading across the continent like a web of light. The people were mesmerized by the awe-inspiring sight, marveling at its beauty. But one person alone. Only Ghislain watched the sky with a cold, foreboding expression.