Early morning on July 9th.

In the dawn, Archbishop Henry got out of the carriage and looked at the messy camp with a gloomy face.

"What's going on here? Basil! Basil! ”

"Archbishop...."

The grizzled Basil walked over, lowered his head, and did not dare to look directly into the eyes of Archbishop Henry: "Late last night, the Blood Clan attacked our camp, and they blew up our artillery position by virtue of their ability to fly...."

"Didn't you stop them?" Archbishop Henry said in an unkind tone: "I gave you so many magic rings, you can't even protect the camp?" ”

"I used the arrows of Tikeus, but I still couldn't stop Edward...", Basiledu muttered, "It's too powerful. ”

Taking a deep breath, Archbishop Henry did not continue to blame Basil, the strength of Edward, the lord of the blood clan, is indeed very strong, although it is not as good as a true god, but it is not an opponent that ordinary monks can defeat.

"How's the casualty?"

"Three hundred soldiers were killed and thousands were wounded, but our monks were not injured!"

"Hmm."

This result was still within the acceptable range of Archbishop Henry, and in order to protect the vanguard, he asked Basil to lead a hundred monks to rush outside Tver first, occupy the favorable terrain, and prepare for the decisive battle.

It's nothing to lose some soldiers and artillery, the key is the monks, and there is no room for loss.

"Where is Duke Yovanovich?"

Looking around, Archbishop Henry did not see the figure of Yin Vanovic.

"He was caught up in last night's explosion, he was hit by a splinter in his right arm, and he's resting."

"It's good that you're not dead."

Archbishop Henry took two steps, suddenly remembered something, turned around, and bowed to the carriage behind him: "Constance, please get off." ”

In the carriage with the curtains closed, a pair of small black leather boots poked out, stepped on the muddy and slippery ground and shrank back, and after a while, as if she had mustered up courage, a girl wearing a black gauze skirt who looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old jumped out of the carriage, her white skin as white as paper seemed to be transparent, and it could be broken by blowing.

A pair of dark black eyes, glowing with a slightly hollow sheen, looked straight ahead, and the slightest sound would attract her attention, as if she was blind.

"Holy Maiden, please."

Archbishop Henry stretched out his hand to the Holy Maiden, asked Constance to grab his arm, and led her to the makeshift command post.

"Grandpa...."

"Don't call me grandpa, you're a saint, just call me by name."

Constance shrunk her neck and said hesitantly, "Oh.... Archbishop Henry...."

"What's the matter?"

"I think I hear the screams of the soldiers, and the smell of gunpowder, where is this?"

"This is the front line." Archbishop Henry patiently explained: "We have to defeat the rebel army led by Katerina, and only by defeating them can we complete the task assigned by the great Anatole." ”

"That's it...."

Constance lowered her eyes and whispered, "I don't like war..."

"This is not a war, it's a just trial to purge heresy, and you should be happy, Constance."

“...... Well. ”

Basil followed closely behind Archbishop Henry and the Holy Maiden, listening to their conversation, smacking his tongue and muttering in his heart.

Willing to send the granddaughter of the family into the church and become a medium used by Anatole, the god of wisdom, Archbishop Henry is definitely a ruthless man.

The saints are not free, they are like larks in a cage, they can't help themselves, they don't have the right to choose their own destiny, until they are old, and they can't live like ordinary people, like a puppet.

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Who wants their children to be puppets?

Even Basile, who was loyal to Anatole, was reluctant to consecrate his daughter to the Church, but Archbishop Henry did, and he gave Anatole his most beloved granddaughter to Anatole with pride.

Before Paul I committed suicide, he scolded Archbishop Henry for being a madman, and he was absolutely not wrong.

In the temporary command post, Archbishop Henry saw Duke Yovanovich hanging from his neck with a bandage on his shoulder, and the other party was pale and sitting at the table in a daze, looking lost and depressed.

"Duke Yovanovich, how are your injuries?"

"Ahh

Coming back to his senses, Duke Yovanovich looked at the suddenly arrived Archbishop Henry, and quickly got up: "I... I'm fine. ”

"Please don't worry about your family, Alexey and they, they will definitely be treated with great hospitality, I vouch for my personality and loyalty to Anatol."

“.......”

Archbishop Henry took Constance to his table and asked, "What is the situation in Tver?" ”

"The rebels are digging trenches and intending to start a trench war with us." Duke Yovanovich replied: "I suggest that we should bypass the city of Tver and attack Rzhev, which is not far away, as long as we can capture Rzhev, Mosk is close at hand." ”

"Mosk is not our first target, our first target is in the city of Tver."

In terms of military command, Archbishop Henry is inferior to Duke Yovanovich, but he knows who his biggest opponent is: "The target we want to eradicate is the Church of Truth, as long as we get rid of them, Mosk can recover them at any time." ”

Last night, Mavi did not launch a general offensive and get rid of the front army led by Duke Yovanovich and Duke Tbilisi, because Archbishop Henry was not in the barracks, except for a hundred monks such as Basil, the camp was full of ordinary soldiers, and killing them could not control the overall situation.

Both the Church of Truth and the Cult of Wisdom regard each other as their primary goals, and it is extremely foolish to spend their energy on soldiers who cannot control the overall situation.

"Your Excellency, when are we going to war?" Duke Yovanovich asked, "The army has all arrived, and it is ready to attack at any time." ”

"One day."

"What?"

"I said one day." Through the window, Archbishop Henry looked out into the silhouette of the city of Tver, "One day, the gods will come...."

Duke Yin Wanovich didn't understand, and cautiously tentatively said: "Do you mean, we will attack again tomorrow?" ”

The day of prophecy is coming, July 10, which is the day of the gods' coming, which is tomorrow.

According to common sense, Archbishop Henry should wait patiently for the gods to come, as long as Anatol, the god of wisdom, returns to the world, they have nothing to fear, and destroying the Church of Truth is easy and effortless.

But....

The speed of development of the Church of Truth not only worries Archbishop Henry, but if it is attacked one day later, the Church of Truth will have one more day to breathe, and their believers will also increase a lot.

Archbishop Henry, who was no longer able to curb the momentum of the Church of Truth, did not want to add risks, he clenched his scepter and said in a deep voice: "The decisive battle is today, we can't give them a chance to breathe anymore, Duke Yovanovich, gather your army and prepare for war!" ”

“... Yes, sir. ”

"Basil."

"Yes, Archbishop!"

"Inform Ruorugin and Goffman that when the decisive battle begins, let them attack from behind, disrupt the formation of the rebel army, and create chaos."

"Yes!"

"And..."

Archbishop Henry stood up, walked to the window, held the scepter in one hand, and put the other behind his back, and said in an indifferent voice: "Wait for chaos to arise, let us be placed in the undercover agent in the army.... Wait for the opportunity to assassinate Mavi Enders! ”

"Just get rid of him..."

"The Church of Truth will turn the dragons leaderless into a plate of loose sand!"