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When news from the Empire reached them, they instinctively knew who had gathered at Strabenher.

“Looks like they’ve gone berserk.”

Some of the demonic minions who had been shaking the Empire from the shadows had begun to lose control and go wild.

It was unthinkable that those who had been so secretly gnawing at the Empire would now move so openly at the mere onset of chaos. It seemed that the underlings they had taken in for convenience had started acting recklessly in their haste.

“Not to sound inappropriate, but this makes it easier for us to step in.”

As Peter de Brice curled his lips nihilistically and spoke self-deprecatingly, everyone in the room couldn’t help but let out bitter smiles.

He was right. For them, it would have been preferable if the Church Order didn’t have to intervene at all. But now, they had to be relieved that a perfect justification for their involvement had conveniently presented itself. Anyone with a sane mind would feel a bitter taste in their mouth.

“It’s an unavoidable situation. If there were truly nothing to worry about, that would be one thing. But in a situation where we must be wary of even the slightest possibility of the enemy lurking in the shadows, having a justification to act without overexerting ourselves is truly something to be grateful for.”

Abbot Julianna van Oranje of Saint Remi Monastery spoke with a stern face. Indeed, was it the bloodline of a great house? Faced with a reality that could easily lead one astray morally, her ability to calmly calculate gains and losses and plan future responses was a political stance that could only be learned through tradition and upbringing.

Perhaps thanks to Abbot Julianna’s attitude and words, the heavy atmosphere that had been weighing them down lifted slightly, allowing them to think clearly about what needed to be done.

Soon after, the Church Order announced the facts about the large-scale outbreak of the Undead Plague in the Empire. Simultaneously, a large-scale intervention by the Church Order regarding the Undead Plague situation was suggested.

Under normal circumstances, even the Church Order wouldn’t have been able to make such a comprehensive, official declaration of intervention. There would have been arguments and rebuttals at the government level, and political compromises would have been sought, dragging things out indefinitely.

However, the political power vacuum created by the interregnum, which had escalated into civil war, prevented the Empire from doing so. In a situation where everyone was vying to become the head in the absence of one, no one could easily step forward to shoulder the responsibility.

In fact, those who stepped forward to take responsibility in such a situation were the ones qualified to be leaders. But then again, it wasn’t hard to understand. In politics or war, those who deserved to be treated well were often the first to be buried.

Those who knew how to take political responsibility were eventually buried under its weight, and those who showed courage on the battlefield paid the price with their blood and lives. Only a lucky few survived to receive the treatment they deserved.

The world called such people “heroes.”

Fortunately or unfortunately, the current Empire had no such “heroes” yet.

If even one person had stepped forward to challenge the Church Order’s declaration, public opinion would have certainly gathered to block their move. The Church Order wasn’t a group that blindly pushed into a country’s internal affairs without regard for consequences, so once public opinion formed, it would have been difficult for them to act recklessly.

But none of the noble bloodlines who had nominated themselves to become the next Kaiser, nor the electors who had the voting power to decide, nor the various other lords under those electors, stepped forward to raise their voices.

Ironically, the very thing that had plunged the Empire into darkness and chaos was now allowing external intervention to swiftly control that darkness and chaos. Truly, human affairs are full of unpredictability.

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Once the intervention was declared, the Church Order had to move quickly. However, even though it was a full-scale intervention, it didn’t mean the entire Church Order would mobilize.

The intervention in the Empire was to be carried out solely by the Empire’s own church and monastic organizations, along with the adjacent Low Countries’ dual duchies. If churches from other countries were to move as well, it would be seen as outright interference in internal affairs.

Unlike the dual duchies, which had long-standing blood ties with the Empire and were eligible to nominate themselves for the Griffin King’s throne, other countries were clearly foreign, with blood ties so distant they were practically strangers.

Even though the territories belonging to the Church Order were officially part of it, their existence was allowed only through political agreements with the governments of the lands they occupied. One misstep, and the movements of the church forces in those territories could be interpreted as being influenced by the state.

In any case, the changes brought about by the Church Order’s intervention declaration were immediately felt across the Low Countries. The ports, canals, and roads that had seen reduced traffic were now bustling with activity as new flows of people and goods began to move.

“Ship incoming! Prepare the cranes! Secure space for unloading cargo!”

“How many transport boats are ready? Wait, what’s this? A raft? Verdomme! Hey, you idiots! I said prepare boats, not rafts! If the goods get damaged because of leaks, you’ll be responsible!”

The gruff shouts echoing through the busy docks were a common sight in the Low Countries’ cities at this time.

The ports were constantly busy with ships carrying supplies and personnel from Franquia, Caledonia, Hiberia, and the Kalmar Diocese. The unloaded goods were stored in warehouses and then transported by boats, wagons, and horses to trading cities near the Empire’s border.

Regardless of the circumstances, this flow of goods and people was revitalizing the stagnant commerce of the Low Countries. The Low Countries’ government and Duke Willem III’s court were delighted by the Church’s intervention and the resulting market activation, actively supporting the Church’s movements.

“I must express my gratitude to your brother.”

As Bishop Nistelrooy van den Berg of Strabenher expressed his thanks, Abbot Julianna van Oranje waved her hand in refusal.

“Willem is only supporting the Church’s movements because it benefits his state affairs, not because he’s moved by the Church’s cause. I heard that many influential figures at court were on the verge of significant losses due to the recent market downturn. The Church’s intervention saved them, so if anything, they should be thanking us.”

“Haha, but for us in a hurry, the cooperation of the Grand Duke and his officials is most welcome.”

What Abbot Julianna meant was this: due to the Empire’s market crash, many influential figures had seen the stocks of companies they had invested in plummet. If no measures had been taken, not only the court ministers but also the cabinet officials and the Grand Duke himself would have struggled to maintain their positions.

When they were about to dig into their own pockets to come up with a solution, the Church Order handed them a significant amount of work for free. For the Low Countries’ dual duchies, this was a godsend.

As they walked slowly along the building’s circular cloister, Abbot Julianna asked, “I heard other dioceses are also preparing.”

“That’s correct. Although political circumstances make immediate deployment difficult, I’ve heard that people and supplies are gathering in the west at Franquia, in the south at Rotaringia, and in the southeast at the Elada Diocese’s churches and monasteries. If necessary, they’ll likely deploy through the neutral Duchy of Schwerin, which has blood ties to the Empire’s imperial family.”

“That’s quite comprehensive.”

“The longer we delay, the more we lose control of the situation. The demons’ tactics of taking root in chaos are tiresome but still effective and threatening. If we don’t deal with them swiftly, they’ll become a lingering problem. Moreover, there’s another reason we can’t afford to delay.”

“Indeed, it’s because of Ungarn and Polant-Lietuva.”

“Correct, though the official names are Magyarország and Lechitic-Lietuva, but yes.”

Bishop Nistelrooy, who had subtly corrected Abbot Julianna’s use of German nicknames, quickly realized it didn’t matter and nodded awkwardly. Seeing this, Abbot Julianna smirked, then frowned as she pondered the relationship between the Empire and the two countries.

“Indeed, if we don’t hurry, things could get troublesome. Both the Crow King of Magyarország and the Peasant King of Lechitic-Lietuva have grievances against the Empire.”

Specifically, the Crow King was at odds with the King of Bohemia, and the Peasant King was at odds with the Margrave of Brandenburg. The Empire’s policy of eastern expansion inevitably clashed with the eastern powers, Magyarország and the Lechitic-Lietuva composite kingdom, and vice versa.

Perhaps as a result of generations of blood feuds, the Empire’s people, especially those in Brandenburg and Bohemia, didn’t get along well with the Lechitic or Magyar people.

In this context, the Crow King Mátyás I of Magyarország and the Peasant King Kazimierz I, who led the Poles of Lechitic-Lietuva, had also built up considerable animosity with the Empire, both before and after their ascensions. While not mortal enemies, they were the type to clap and cheer if the Empire faced difficulties, perhaps even sneaking away a few undamaged items from a burning house.

Knowing this, Bishop Nistelrooy smiled bitterly and relayed what he had learned to Abbot Julianna.

“I heard that even before the Church Order declared its intervention in the Empire, they had detected the Empire’s unusual situation through the Church’s movements and had mobilized troops to their borders. If the central chapter in Ravenna hadn’t requested restraint from all countries, we would have had a real headache.”

“Well, the proclamation we issued to restrain Franquia and Rotaringia unexpectedly helped calm the eastern unrest.”

If the Undead Plague was spreading everywhere, with demons and witches’ minions hiding who knows where, and if military conflicts between nations were added to the mix, the situation would become extremely complicated. For the Church Order, which wanted to resolve the situation and restore normalcy—or at least ensure no external interference in human affairs—this would be the worst-case scenario.

Already on edge about the possibility of the Undead Plague crossing the Empire’s borders due to deserters and refugees, the idea of neighboring countries deliberately sending troops into the Empire made Bishop Nistelrooy and Abbot Julianna feel a chill run down their spines.

“We’ve warned them about the Undead Plague in advance, so if they have any sense, they’ll take measures to prevent it from spreading to their own countries. But who knows what will happen.”

Agreeing, Abbot Julianna inwardly speculated on how the situation would unfold. The wind flowing through the cloister gently brushed against her graying hair.

First, the two countries appeared to comply with the Church’s request. But no one believed it would last long. Both Magyarország and Lechitic-Lietuva relied heavily on powerful cavalry forces. The Crow King’s Black Legion and the Peasant King’s Winged Hussars were both elite units, but they were still cavalry.

Once such cavalry forces were mobilized, neither country had the capacity to keep them stationed in one place for long. They were hastily trying to supply their troops by mobilizing Low Countries merchants for Lechitic-Lietuva and Rotaringia and Eastern Roman Empire merchants for Magyarország, but these were mere stopgaps, not real solutions.

Truly, how would the situation unfold? The more the two bishops thought about it, the more their chests tightened and their heads ached, leading them to sigh deeply.

In any case, the key to resolving the situation lay with the execution team entering the Empire to carry out their mission.

The plan was as follows:

The eastern entry team, led by Templar Knight Peter de Brice of Rheinland’s east, would first land in Saxony by ship and then move south along the eastern front. They would rally the Church forces in the Empire’s east, where the Undead Plague was most severe, and hold their ground.

Meanwhile, the western team, led by Nun Knight Hildegard Ritter von Wolfstein of Rheinland’s west, would mediate the fierce military conflicts among the lords in the Empire’s west using the authority of a Nun Knight. They would then gather Church forces and advance toward the Empire’s east. This was something only Hildegard, who could summon the Pantheon’s holy domain to manifest divine blessings and curses, could do.

If the eastern front was the anvil, and the west was preparing the hammer, the south was the support team handling various tasks. The southern巡回 team, led by Clergy Esiocles Emanuele of the Alps Mountain Range’s Ignatius Order, would move counterclockwise from the Empire’s outermost regions, using monasteries as bases to carry out communication and relief missions.

The tasks in the Empire’s east, west, and south were critical in determining how the Church Order would intervene in and resolve a nation’s chaos. To assist and support these efforts, large amounts of supplies and personnel had been deployed to churches and monasteries in the border regions of Caledonia, Franquia, Hiberia, Rotaringia, and the Eastern Roman Empire, all adjacent to the Holy Griffin Empire. The cost of failure would be significant.

However, the Church Order’s most focused, core mission of this operation was something else entirely.

“To think she’d suggest launching a special attack into the Empire’s heart to decapitate the shadowy mastermind behind the chaos. If possible, it would indeed be the best solution.”

As Abbot Julianna expressed her doubts—”Even if she’s a Nun Knight, is it really possible?”—Bishop Nistelrooy recalled the person who had volunteered for this mission: Nun Knight Sophia de Chazel of eastern Franquia. In his eyes, her leadership and experience in guiding the talents gathered at Strabenher were truly exceptional.

However, this decapitation mission required qualities different from what she had shown before. While ability and insight were necessary, luck would also play a significant role.

“Ah, but worrying won’t help now. At this point, all we can do is trust and leave it to her.”

All they could do was trust and hope, or sit back and pray for everything to go well. May the Grand Master and the Holy Spirits watch over those who follow in their footsteps.

Bishop Nistelrooy and Abbot Julianna, feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness, repeatedly swallowed the sighs rising in their throats.

 

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