Genius Warlock

“Paladins, stand by. Servants, keep advancing and push on. Slowly, just like now.”

Address: Wineham North Street, 582R.

A paladin relayed instructions through a wireless communication device.

His name was Galahad, and he held the highest authority in overseeing the Wineham-Pseudo religion suppression operation.

A staunch adherent of the Parter Church, he had successfully carried out numerous solo missions and participated in dozens of group missions, establishing himself as a seasoned veteran among the paladins. Galahad enjoyed a sterling reputation within their ranks.

This reputation was evident not only in the unwavering loyalty of the dozens of servants directly under his command but also in the unquestioning obedience of his fellow paladins, who were equally proud of his service.

Such trust and recognition were a testament to the esteem in which Galahad was held.

However, despite these undeniable facts, he wasn’t the central figure of this mission.

Galahad was well aware of this reality.

In this performance, he played a role more akin to a director than a leading actor.

Consequently, despite having an overwhelming advantage in terms of numbers, quality, position, and the compatibility of his troops, he refrained from delivering a decisive blow to the enemy. Instead, he orchestrated a gradual encirclement—a deliberate and strategic maneuver.

All of this was in pursuit of creating a magnificent and captivating spectacle.

…But, truth be told, he didn’t particularly relish it.

For someone who had weathered countless battles and missions, this method of executing the mission felt inefficient and unsatisfactory.

He was a paladin, not a politician.

Nevertheless, Galahad remained committed to the mission as originally planned.

Though he still carried the sense of duty and pride befitting a paladin, over time and through countless experiences, he had come to understand the significance of appearances.

Even if it seemed cumbersome, such theatrics were deemed necessary for the future.

After all, humanity required a unifying focal point.

Chirp! Chirp!

A distinctive sound emanated from his communication device, followed by a report.

One of the teams dispatched into the sealed temple reported their success in subduing the resisting Pseudo religion priests.

[The enemies have given up resistance. They are retreating to the temple. Should we pursue?]

Galahad, ever the seasoned paladin, remained unperturbed by this minor victory and steadfastly adhered to his role and the mission’s ultimate objective.

Officially, the mission’s goal was to suppress the newly established Pseudo religion in England, but a more profound objective loomed ahead. However, the moment for that objective had not yet arrived.

The spotlight was not meant for him.

“No, exert pressure and trap them inside the temple, but don’t enter. Just ensure they can’t escape and maintain a tight siege.”

[Understood.]

Upon receiving this response through his device, Galahad shifted his position to oversee the ongoing battle.Please visit 𝓃𝑜vel𝒏𝑒xt.𝒸𝑜𝔪 website to read fastest update

Though they did not engage in aggressive combat, the warlocks displayed remarkable resilience.

Confronted with formidable Holy magic, most warlocks would be powerless, yet these warlocks put up a spirited resistance, even with conventional weaponry.

Nevertheless, they proved no match for the disciplined servants trained by the Parter Church.

Chirp! Chirp!

The device sounded again, relaying additional reports of subdued Pseudo adherents and inquiring about the possibility of pursuit.

As before, Galahad reiterated the importance of maintaining a strict encirclement.

“Mole. Mole. Any problems on your end?”

Galahad directed his question to the paladins and servants stationed in the underground sewer of the sealed temple.

For the flawless execution of the mission, Galahad had dispatched two teams into the sewers in advance to block potential escape routes.

Thanks to their efforts, the Pseudo heretics had no avenue for underground flight.

[No problems. Some tried to escape, but we took them all out.]

“Good job. Continue to stand by.”

[Understood.]

Galahad surveyed the Pseudo heretics trapped within the forsaken temple, surrounded by the paladins and servants.

It all seemed rather ironic.

The Pseudo heretics concealed within the forsaken temple, encircled by paladins.

Yet, life was replete with ironies, so perhaps the strangeness of this situation was not entirely unexpected…

‘I guess I’m getting old too.’

Galahad mused silently as he became lost in thought during the mission. To regain his focus, he turned to the servant standing beside him.

Two reasons compelled him to do so.

Firstly, he believed it unwise to disclose his identity as Oliver, especially in the presence of the paladins.

Secondly, he felt awkward about explaining to the dozens of people surrounding Marie that while he was Oliver, he was not God.

Timing was everything, after all.

Fortunately, Marie seemed to grasp Oliver’s intention and covered her mouth with both hands, restraining her urge to call out to him.

It required immense effort on her part, indeed.

It was genuinely puzzling. Clearly, she recognized someone who had achieved something even greater than her, but why this reaction? He couldn’t fathom it.

As Marie grappled with her emotions, her hands concealing her mouth, and tears welling up in her eyes, people nearby began to approach her, inquiring about her distress.

Among them, those who had caught sight of Oliver regarded him with curiosity and amazement.

They endeavored to connect the dots between Marie’s inexplicable reaction and Oliver’s sudden appearance.

Rather than offering an explanation, Oliver believed it best to address the immediate situation. He gestured to Marie, silently inquiring through hand signals if he could handle the external matters.

Though their communication consisted solely of rudimentary gestures, devoid of any formal sign language, Marie thankfully grasped Oliver’s intent and nodded in agreement.

Expressing his gratitude to Marie, Oliver contemplated how to engage with the paladins. In that moment, an opportunity presented itself.

“Halt fire.”

A calm yet authoritative voice resounded, and the ceaseless barrage of bullets aimed at Oliver came to an abrupt halt.

Raising both hands slowly, Oliver rose to his feet.

“Who are you?”

Emerging from the ranks of the troops that encircled the temple, a middle-aged man stepped forward and inquired.

Clad in iron-clad armor, his hair neatly groomed, and a distinguished mustache gracing his face, he possessed sharp eyes and a lean yet sturdy physique.

From the emotions and the overall atmosphere emanating from those around him, it was evident that he was their leader.

“I am a Druid… Pardon me, but who might you be?”

“I am paladin Galahad, the one responsible for suppressing the Pseudo cult. And who are you?”

“A drui-“

“-Don’t you dare lie in front of a paladin.”

Galahad, who had introduced himself, raised his voice with unwavering resolve.

It wasn’t a mere suspicion; he appeared genuinely convinced.

“… Why do you think I am not a Druid?”

“I’ve met Druids before. Traditionalists, reformists, enjoyment-seekers… You are no Druid.”

Oliver was taken aback. The conviction behind Galahad’s words was unmistakable.

It was clear that the paladin possessed a wealth of experience and keen insight. However, he didn’t stop there; he continued his assessment.

“I also felt human life force mixed with the power of nature in what you used. It seemed you tried to blend them subtly, but you can’t deceive me. What are you?”

Oliver hesitated.

He had not anticipated that his Druid disguise would be so easily pierced, let alone the detection of the use of life force.

“Um… If I tell you the truth, can we converse peacefully?”

“Of course.”

“You’re lying.”

Upon hearing Galahad’s response, Oliver swiftly manipulated the tree rooted in the temple to strike at a paladin who had been subtly approaching from behind.

To his astonishment, the branch, as thick as a street tree, shattered upon contact with the paladin’s sacred technique.

It broke like a glass bottle smashing against a wall.

Crash━!

The noise was deafening as the branch infused with the power of nature and human life force disintegrated.

The paladin was not merely a skilled combatant.

“Is conversation not possible?”

Suddenly standing near, Oliver directed his inquiry at Galahad.

While Oliver acknowledged the extraordinary physical prowess of the paladin, this man seemed to possess something even more formidable.

Drawing a longsword swiftly from his waist, the paladin, his hands clad in steel gauntlets, responded firmly.

“I don’t converse with Pseudo heretics. Especially not with those whose identities are unknown.”

With those words, Galahad swung his unsheathed sword at Oliver.

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