Chapter 82: The Paladins Have Arrived

Alkhemia possessed a towering city gate, thirty meters tall and forged entirely of steel. It weighed over a thousand tons. This gate was the symbol of Alkhemia, as well as its most formidable line of defense. Countless arcane sigils were engraved upon its surface, capable of negating nearly any form of attack.

To breach it, one would first have to exhaust every last reserve of magical energy stored within the city. Otherwise, all assaults would be nullified by the gate's layered magical defenses.

Individually, alchemists might not amount to much on the battlefield, but their creations more than made up for it. Even if Gareth charged forward at full strength, he would not be able to so much as shake the gate.

And yet, at that very moment, the supposedly impregnable gate was slowly opening. Gears interlocked and ground against one another, producing a thunderous toll like the ringing of a colossal bell.

James Watson strode through the gate with his paladin legion, his expression dark and grim.

He knew he had been played. By the time James Watson had finished scouring the lands around Ambrose's territory for phylacteries and returned to Alkhemia, the gates were shut and the city's magical defenses fully activated.

Staring at the dozens of magitech cannons mounted atop the gate, James Watson did not dare approach.

Even a legendary priest would be courting death by forcing a siege under such firepower. One volley could reduce any assailants into pieces.

Alkhemia had agreed to exchange the phylacteries for the captured paladins, including his son, Allen. And yet Alkhemia's gates were closed. The alchemists were blatantly reneging on the deal.

What James Watson could not understand was why.

What did the alchemists stand to gain by rejecting the agreement?

Though he did not possess Ambrose's grasp of the specifics, James Watson had served as High Inquisitor for many years. A fool could not possibly govern an empire as vast as Lyon.

Something had clearly gone wrong within Alkhemia. The city was likely in a state of extreme turmoil, which was why they had sealed it off.

With that thought in mind, James Watson ordered all his subordinates to begin praying.

His goal was not for the Lord of Dawn to descend and crush the alchemists with a single blow, but to generate a powerful manifestation of holy light outside the city walls.

A pillar of radiance shot into the sky, its form shifting continuously as scriptures were chanted.

Then came a long wait.

James Watson was waiting for a response from the paladins inside the city.

Allen and ten other members of the Knights Penitent had already been brought into Alkhemia. They might have been under guard and unable to see the holy beacon, but this was James Watson's only hope.

And his gamble paid off. When the city gates finally opened, his son, Allen Watson, was already kneeling before him, respectfully welcoming his arrival.

Behind Allen stood nine other paladins, as well as a peculiar unit numbering fewer than a hundred, composed of what seemed more like civilians than soldiers.

"Father..." Allen managed only that single word before his voice failed him.

Allen had been fortunate. During his imprisonment in Ambrose's castle, he had not been tortured, only beaten once by Gareth. Neither did he have any broken bones or lasting injuries; a simple healing spell had restored him.

Aside from Starfall, the other captured paladins weren't badly hurt either. Simple healing would take care of them all.

Since they were supposed to be "rescued," Alkhemia had not imprisoned them. After being transported into the city by airship, they were lodged in an inn and even provided with healing potions, allowing them to recover quickly.

Thus, when the beacon of holy light appeared outside the city, the paladins began plotting how to seize control of the gate and let James Watson in.

Although all their equipment had been stripped away by Ambrose, severely weakening their combat strength, even barehanded paladins were terrifying fighters. Allen had managed to knock out two administrators, seize control of their magitech automatons, and launch a counterattack.

Once they burst out of the inn, they rushed onto the streets and immediately targeted a nearby smithy. Though its doors were shut, the paladins smashed their way in and armed themselves without footing a single coin.

Armed, their confidence soared. They began capturing Alkhemia's administrators and interrogating them about the situation inside the city. Though these officials knew little, they provided one crucial piece of information.

The undead were assaulting the city. Most of Alkhemia's forces had been tied down by the undead, leaving other districts dangerously undefended.

At that point, the paladins split into two camps. One argued that the undead were their sworn enemy and had to be eliminated immediately. The other believed that Alkhemia was far too treacherous and that they should first regroup with James Watson before deciding how to purge the undead.

Allen, being young and half-responsible for the mess, had little say. Eventually, the weakened Starfall spoke up and ordered everyone to focus on seizing the city gate, barely avoiding a schism in their ranks.

Ten paladins launched a surprise attack, seized control of the gate mechanism, and opened the indestructible gates from within.

Allen fought with fearless valor and sustained multiple wounds. Even after receiving healing, his armor was shattered and his face smeared with blood.

Faced with his battered son, James Watson showed no pity. He said coldly, "Paladin Allen Watson, you should address me as High Inquisitor. Your reckless actions caused grave losses to the Empire. Your crimes will be judged upon our return."

Allen lowered his head, making no excuse and providing no reasoning for his actions. "I am willing to accept judgment, High Inquisitor."

Only then did James Watson turn his gaze to the strange coalition behind Allen.

"Tell me what is happening inside the city. And who are these people?"

Allen hurriedly explained, "Alkhemia is under attack by a massive undead force and has fallen into chaos. As for these civilians, they are followers of the Lord of Dawn. We promised them citizenship in the Empire, to become people of Lyon..."

These hundred or so individuals were the civilians and serfs Starfall had recruited. After Starfall was ambushed and the Knights Penitent captured, no one had paid them any further attention.

Fortunately, Starfall had paid them in advance, ensuring they would not starve immediately. Still, after the paladins were captured, most of them drifted away. They had been abandoned and would likely have to fend for themselves.

Some returned to their former lords. Others tried to establish themselves in Alkhemia.

Only a handful continued to wait for the future Starfall had promised.

Geronimo was one of them. After witnessing the power of holy light, he could no longer resign himself to being a serf. Even after Starfall's capture, he refused to give up.

Thus, when a pillar of holy light appeared outside the city and chaos reigned within, Geronimo rallied the remaining people together. Whether to take advantage of the turmoil or simply to protect themselves, sticking together was the safest choice.

Along the way, they encountered Allen and the paladins. That holy radiance was unmistakable. Geronimo immediately led his people to follow them. Since they were allies to begin with, Allen did not refuse their help.

Unfortunately, the imitation artifact Starfall had possessed had been seized by Ambrose, and ordinary folk like them could contribute little in combat otherwise. They could serve only as cannon fodder or moral support.

𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

Casualties mounted along the way. Some died. Others fled in fear.

By the time they regrouped with the main force, fewer than sixty remained.

Allen relayed the events in Alkhemia to James Watson as concisely as he could. He knew nothing of the ritual magic in the sewers and believed it was merely an undead siege.

James Watson, however, sensed something amiss.

"If the undead have already entered the city," he said slowly, "why waste magical energy maintaining the external defenses? And if the alchemists were fighting undead, why did they not seek our aid? This is unreasonable."

James Watson thought for a moment. There were two potential routes he could choose.

The first was to leave Alkhemia immediately. Whatever chaos consumed the city was not his concern. Given his powerful legion of paladins, no one could stop him. His objective had been achieved: he had rescued Allen and the others. Returning now would still be counted as a triumph.

The second was to wade into the quagmire, involve himself in this inexplicable undead assault, and fight on Alkhemia's behalf against the undead.

Between the two, the choice should have been obvious.

But they would be giving up on an opportunity to strike at undead!

Though Alkhemia was a city of many races, it still held countless humans. Allowing undead to slaughter humans violated the doctrine of the Lord of Dawn.

When faith clashed with profit, most people would bend their beliefs.

But James Watson and the paladins were zealots of the Lord of Dawn. How could they ignore undead atrocities?

Impossible. They could not stomach it.

And so, fully aware that he was making a foolish decision, James Watson clenched his fist and declared loudly, "O Holy Light, shield us and banish all darkness! All units, follow me! Purge those filthy undead!"

Brilliant radiance erupted from the people of Lyon, as though the sun itself had descended upon the mortal world.

The paladin legion marched toward the area within the city where the undead aura was strongest. Regardless of whatever schemes Alkhemia harbored, the undead were there.

Meanwhile, atop the high tower at the center of Alkhemia, Ambrose was loudly demanding to know where James Watson and his paladin legion were.

Then, the overwhelming holy light, so intense he could feel it even from his vantage point, gave him his answer.

Those religious lunatics were shouting about holy light and glory as they charged straight toward him.

Ambrose instantly decided to run. For the moment, the sewers were the safest place to be.