As the celestial vision vanished, so did the dozen streams of light and the incarnation of Tyre.

However, this does not mean that the woes of wizards end here.

After the gods themselves slain the wizards, the Templars, the protagonists of this war, finally came to light.

Unlike the shamans, who were disheveled and wounded, the Templars wore magical armor, silver daggers around their waists, and spears that shimmered with cold light, with large emblems painted on the backs of their armor.

They laughed loudly and shouted as they marched through the city, slaying all the enemies that stood in their way.

Slash off their heads with swords, scorch them with flames, and smash them into pulp with the great fist of steel.

There are no innocents in the city of wizards. It is a sin to live here.

"Go to hell!"

"Heresy! Your sins are unforgivable! ”

They shouted loudly, their tones full of joy.

The Templars are the sword of God, the shield of God, and the embodiment of divine might. Unlike priests with military clerical positions such as the Apologists, the Templars did not have to follow strange rules, or even pray, and received a large monthly salary.

The purpose of their existence is to kill heretics, and the value of their existence is to kill for God.

After all, this is a time when there are no devils - they only have humans to kill.

But in all the battles of the past, none have been more enjoyable than this one. They don't even need to detect whether the other person is evil, they don't need to judge the extent of the injury they want to inflict on the other - the gods have decreed that the sorcerer will be removed from the human ranks.

Wizards will not enjoy any legal protection, and killing a wizard is less of a sin than hunting a lord's hare. At the same time, their heads can be exchanged for a lot of merit or actual money.

Repeat once. It doesn't get much better than here.

The heretics all over the land have lost their ability to fight under the miracle, and all they have to do is mend their swords. The few wizards who could resist would be completely overwhelmed by the Templars who were several times their number, or even a dozen times their size.

The spear in the hand of a young Templar had already strung four corpses. It became heavy as a result. Just as he was leaning against the wall and thinking about how to get the corpse off the spear, he suddenly heard a faint wheezing sound from beside him.

Right at his feet. A white, slender left hand struggled out from the collapsed ruins. He stepped on his metal boots and asked kindly, "Need help?" ”

"Thank you so much!"

A beautiful and weak girl's voice came from under the rubble: "I've been crushed by this damn stone for hours...... Uh-uhh ”

Without hesitation, the Templar pulled out the silver sword from his waist and pinned the girl's left hand to the ground, before he easily lifted the stone and let the moonlight shine into it......

"First...... Mr? ”

"I'm here, miss," the young Templar smiled with satisfaction and pleasure as he saw the girl's appearance, "and you should thank you Aum for making my spear useless for the time being...... But the good thing. I have a spear here to pierce you. ”

Not far from here, a Templar in his mid-teens burrowed into a ruin, nervously - he could tell that it was a warehouse or something.

He carefully picked out the relatively intact things. He wasn't like his young, radical colleagues who smashed it all with heavy spears.

He knew very well that outside of the White Tower, these things could sell for a lot of money. He knows it very well. The White Tower is about to be destroyed, and the price of these things will only increase, not fall.

His second daughter is about to get married, and his fourth child is about to be born. He needed to hire a new governess and send some money to Father Gatleka so that he could take care of his little Tom more at seminary. Then there is the armor and sword that Tom Jr. bought for him, as well as the foal...... Again, that's a lot of money. Those poor allowances alone were not enough to sustain his knight lord.

But he also knew that his behavior at this time was undoubtedly not allowed by discipline. If he was discovered, he would probably have to take off his own skin - and that would be terrible.

Just as he was scrambling to pick up some bottles and cans that he didn't understand, maybe he accidentally smashed a crystal too loudly before. An old wizard with a bloody head wakes up not far away. The old wizard was horrified at the sight of the middle-aged Templar, but his throat was filled with blood, and he was stunned to cast three spells in a row.

Then. The Templar reacted. Because of the lack of space, he couldn't stand up and draw his sword. Just like that, he knelt on the ground and jumped over like a dog, grabbing the old wizard's throat and covering his mouth with his stout hands that had taken off his steel gloves.

But he immediately felt the old wizard's body tense up instantly, and began to struggle. And the old body was much more powerful than he thought.

He had no choice but to press the old wizard's lungs with his body, fumbling with a crystal bottle and stuffing it into the old wizard's mouth to prevent him from screaming, and then freed up one hand and smashed it on his temple after punch, until the old wizard's resistance gradually weakened, and he broke the old wizard's neck with a rough method.

The middle-aged Templar gasped heavily, nervously, carefully not making any noise, lest he summon his comrades over. After his breathing had calmed down a little, he used the cloth torn off the old wizard's robe as a burden, wrapped the relatively complete things in several layers, and hid them in the cracks of his armor.

This kind of thing is happening everywhere in the White Tower. The noble wizards of the past are now inferior to the lowliest of domestic animals, and the remaining books and experimental records have been burned, and only a few have been preserved—most of them various potions.

In the inner ring, a girl dressed in black robe appeared in the ruins of the second tower at some point, but no one could see her.

Underneath her was a huge coffin. In the area around the coffin, there is a wonderful absence of any dust left here, thus leaving a clean area.

The girl's excessively long bangs covered half of her face, and her long black hair hung down from the huge coffin more than two meters high to the clean ground. Her legs folded gracefully, her left leg on top and her right leg on bottom, sat on a huge obsidian coffin, watching indifferently from the wall at what was happening in the White Tower.

I don't know how long it took, but she suddenly lost interest, hung her head, and stared intently at the coffin.

Her hands caressed the obsidian coffin, stroking it back and forth a few times, and then her hands went straight down the lid of the coffin, gently covering the cheeks of the deceased who had been soaked in mercury.

"I see it...... I saw it, and I was really happy. ”

She murmured, her soft voice echoing through the deserted basement.

"Come back, then, my child."

"As you wish, my mentor."

A dull voice came from the coffin soaked in mercury. (To be continued.) )