Lilith eventually appeared, Hope in tow, both of them covered in blood and guts.

  "Y'all okay?" I asked.

  "I've had better days but no critical injury." Lilith simply answered.

  "Well, we all look like shit," I said, eyeing the group. "But I don’t feel like going back to the dorms for a change of clothes. What should we do?"

  "I do have some spare clothes that could decently cover us while we clean our gear," Lilith offered, brushing off bits of gore from her shoulders. "It's as safe of a resting spot as I can think of."

  "Good idea," Jibby approved, nodding.

  Hope and Victoria both gave their agreement, and I followed not long after.

  "Alright, let's grab a cart and get moving then. But before we do, since we're in a safe spot—Jibby, could you reload my Triplet? I wanna make sure we have every tool at the ready, just in case."

  "No problem," she said, taking the coach gun from me and beginning to reload it. Lilith pulled out her double-barrel and started stuffing fresh prototype paper shells into the chamber. I watched her for a moment, the scent of burnt powder and blood still thick on us. I really needed to bring modern cartridges into the game as soon as possible. Reloads needed to happen far quicker.

  "How's the development of the smokeless powder going?" I asked Jibby as she clicked the percusion caps in place.

  "Good. I'm still finagling with ballistic stabilizers, but I expect to have it figured out before the warm season," she replied confidently.

  "Good. I’ll make a push for the brass cartridge technology with Lilith and the Order’s expert. If we can have it working before the factory's done, that’d be perfect. We need to build a ton of machines to make the rifles."

  "Wait," Jibby chimed in, brow raised. "You mean you don't plan to build the rifles the usual way?"

  "No,artisan making one gun at a time is too slow. What we need is a factory that can produce more than a hundred rifles a day. Hell, we need thousands daily. To achieve that, we’re going to have machines do the heavy work. I’m talking about metal stamping presses, machining and precision casting. This is a technological revolution not just a few inovation. I want nothing less than the best, and this is just a stopgap to get to the next step. If we can nail the rimmed cartridge, we can produce revolvers, machine guns, and bolt-action rifles. That’s our first true objective right now. If we have that—and chemical weapons—we might actually stand a chance of holding out for a while."

  Victoria blinked, clearly processing the words. "What’s a machine gun?" she asked.

  I grinned. "Well, you saw my boomstick? Think of that, but shooting very fast. Able to unleash hundreds—no, thousands—of freedom seeds within minutes."

  "Freedom seeds?" Jibby asked, a bit of amusement coloring her voice. "Like the hero’s axe?"

  I paused. "Well…actually, yeah, kind of. Wait, what do you mean by that exactly? I’m not super familiar with your Nameless guy."

  Jibby leaned back a bit, her eyes thoughtful. "The Nameless Hero had an axe that could cut through a forest in a single sweep. It’s said that when he entered the fray, he’d unleash a torrent of freedom seeds that would destroy the enemy and plant purifying trees. We call them Freedom Trees. What did you mean by freedom seeds?"

  I chuckled darkly. "Well, it’s just a common way people refer to bullets where I’m from."

  Lilith scoffed. "Well, that's not grim at all," she muttered.

  "Freedom is always paid in blood," I replied, the words coming out more automatic than I expected. A heavy silence fell over the cart. The clattering of wheels on cobblestone filled the void, stretching out the moment until it felt like even the world itself was holding its breath.

  The cart eventually stopped in front of the Sister House. Armed, shield-bearing Battle Sisters patrolled the perimeter, their intricate armor adorned with ecclesiastic seven-pointed stars. At the center of each star, a candle flickered with an ethereal flame, casting an eerie glow even in daylight. Templars moved in disciplined groups of fourteen along the streets, their heavy boots thudding in unison. The tension in the air was palpable.

  Every so often, the distant boom of powerful attacks echoed from the Academy grounds, sounding more like artillery fire than the clash of swords. From the windows of the Sister House, we watched the chaos unfold—thousands of armored Templars laying siege to the school, their formations securing the perimeter with mechanical precision.

  Small teams of Paladins and Inquisitors kept arriving, barely pausing before rushing inside the breached walls. Occasionally, a blast would tear through the structure, sending debris and shattered stone skyward before crashing back down in a rain of dust and smoke.

  "Yeah... I think classes will be canceled for a while," I mumbled, the understatement heavy in my voice.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  We watched in silence, the grim reality of war settling uncomfortably around us.

  When darkness finally settled, the chaos subsided, leaving an uncomfortable silence over the streets that were once bustling with vendors selling their wares and children playing. Now, only the distant crackle of flames and the whispers of patrols broke the stillness.

  Lilith grabbed clothes for the girls, and when she got to me, she handed me a pink silk dressing gown. It would probably reach her calves, but on me, it was uncomfortably short. A sister came in with a basket for our clothes and a basin of water for me. Apparently, the baths in this building were exclusively for the ladies. The girls disappeared to get cleaned up, returning several hours later with flushed skin, the kind of redness that only came from soaking too long in hot spring water.

  Lilith looked as charming as ever in her one-piece pajama, while Jibby wore a bright yellow silk nightgown that suited her playful demeanor. Victoria, with her taller, slim build, wore a short nun's dress that gave her an unexpectedly elegant look. Hope, meanwhile, sported a black silk nightgown she claimed she had left here for emergencies—apparently, sleepovers counted as one. I was surrounded by beautiful women, but now wasn’t the time for frivolity. If I let any thoughts stray, it would be painfully obvious in this ridiculous pink silk getup. Still, I tried to burn the image into my mind—this would make for some great blackmail material one day. I laughed to myself, drawing curious eyes from the girls.

  "What are you laughing at, perky butt?" Hope shot at me with a grin.

  "What?" I looked over my shoulder, confused, only to realize that when I turned, the silk robe had lifted just enough to expose more than I'd intended.

  Lilith and Victoria went bright red, Jibby burst into laughter, and Hope approached with that usual sadistic grin of hers.

  "Fuck, okay, you got me," I admitted, turning to face her, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills as we got closer.

  "But you know," I said, dropping my voice a notch, "you don't look half bad yourself in that tight dress."

  Her face instantly flushed, and before I could blink—wham—she headbutted me hard right in the chin.

  "S-s-sorry! I... Reflex..." she stammered, practically glowing with embarrassment.

  Lilith eventually came to her rescue, laughing loudly. "Yeah, careful! If you make her flustered, she tends to headbutt. HAHAHA!" Her laughter was contagious, and the tension in the room shattered. We all burst out laughing, the release of stress almost cathartic.

  Not long after, a sister arrived with a basket of cleaned clothes. For some reason, she kept glancing at me, but I paid it no mind since I couldn’t see any darkness in her aura. She leaned in and whispered something to Lilith making her flush again before quietly leaving the room.

  We ended up spending the night trying to figure out the layout of the factory for maximum efficiency. Surprisingly, once Victoria understood what we were trying to do, she had a lot of very good input. Eventually, all the girls split into different rooms. Hope tried to insist I take a room, but I wanted to keep an eye on the door just in case. The night was quiet.

  

  The next morning, we headed to the academy to see what would happen. A Templar securing the scene informed us that classes would be canceled until further notice. Members of the Empire were placed under arrest pending interrogation. Members of other nations were relocated to different hotels for the week, kept under tight surveillance by the Inquisition—they would likely end up being sent back home. Locals were told to return to their residences and wait for new directives from the Order.

  The death toll represented over 75% of the student body. Many students were still unaccounted for, so the final number would probably be even worse. The greatest minds of a new generation, consumed by chaos in a single day, before they could ever bloom.

  The sense of security for an entire nation was shattered overnight. That morning, many woke up to the grim reality of what their near future would hold. Families grieved, demanding justice from the Pontifex. The nation clamored for total war—against the Empire, against Valakia, and even against the Pontifex. Everyone wanted someone to blame.

  We made our way to the construction site of the new factory, a wide-open plot of land with enough space for future expansion. We spoke with a few engineers as earth mages leveled the land and began digging the foundations.

  The announcement from the Pontifex Maximus came just past noon:

  The Order is declaring a Holy War against Emperor Melenor and his followers.

  We do not recognize his claim as the Nameless Hero. He never was and never will be.

  He is excommunicated from the Order for his crimes of conspiring with the forces of Chaos, genocide, the murder of thousands of the Grand Academy students, high treason and the theft of holy artifacts.

  The actions of the Empire in Valakia and our sacred lands cannot go unpunished. Any slaves of the Empire are to be released on sight. This crusade will only end once our common enemy is vanquished. We will free the Empire from demonic influence. The 5th and 6th Paladin Orders are to be deployed to aid our brothers in Valakia.

  All able fighters are asked to present themselves to their local station. All citizens capable of fighting are to report to recruitment stations to be assigned training dates.

  Our first contingent of troops has already begun fighting at our borders.

  May the grace of the God-King bless you all in these troubled times.

  Bishop of St. Gabriel Basilica

  Pontifex Maximus Aurelia

  To say that the proclamation made waves within the city would be an understatement. If it wasn’t for the fact that the Emperor was still alive, he would have been made a saint long ago. At first, people were confused, but as they listened to the list of accusations, the mood shifted. Approval spread like wildfire. I was surprised at how smoothly things went—until I remembered that anyone opposing the Church right now would be quickly taken care of.

  All around the streets, people began chanting. The war chant echoed through every alley and marketplace. The entire city sang its grief and rage as one. The ambient mana in the air swirled violently, taking on a golden hue. I had noticed the mana in the atmosphere seemed to thicken as time went on—subtle, but still apparent. To see so much mana react in unison sent chills down my spine, almost as much as seeing hell itself. The power of a unified people diffusing an aura of grief, pain, acceptance, love, and hate... This was unlike anything I had ever witnessed.

  To see a whole city unify its will to the point where it affected natural phenomena was the most powerful display of faith and force I had ever seen.

  But more than that, it left me with an unsettling feeling of being needed—a calling to do my part in the war effort. A message that couldn’t be ignored. The fact that it tugged at my mind so insistently spooked me. Was it some mystical magic affecting the mind? Or was it simply the calling of those given a role in the grand tapestry of life, woven by the Destiny Weaver, the Moirai, the Norns—the mothers of the God-King.