Natalie led the fifty high-ranking hunters who remained of the White Oak Warband along their planned route, charging toward the encirclement around the Tower of Rings ahead.
It was a little embarrassing.
Though she was the warband's highest-ranking member, Natalie's personal strength was basically middle-of-the-pack at best among these fifty.
Old Eugene, who had argued with her during the earlier meeting, Mother Marianne, and several other veteran captains were all Silver-rank Oak Hunters or Oak Sages.
They had already qualified to become reserve White Knights. If the Avalon Church had not collapsed, these veteran hunters should have returned to the Glamor holy site to prepare for their Holy Grail rituals.
More regrettably, both the Avalon icon and the Natural Grail had been lost amid the church's decade of chaos. That essentially meant the Witch Hunters' advanced career system had suffered a terrible rupture.
Under these circumstances, the mere fact that Natalie carried the Great Oak Sacred Blade was enough to make her the undisputed leader of this group of Witch Hunter masters!
This sword, which was said to have a particularly foul mouth, was the only sacred relic they had left.
"Little Natalie, if you make it out of this battle alive, hurry up and work on strengthening your natural resonance with the Sacred Blade. With your current compatibility, you can't even draw out a tenth of its power."
Old Eugene, riding beside Natalie, offered a quiet reminder.
"But it's a long process, so there's no need to rush. The two blades your father left you have a history of their own. Don't disgrace these two evil-slaying weapons."
"Are you giving your last words? What's wrong? Don't want to live anymore?"
On the other side, Mother Marianne tugged at her hunting hat, which looked rather like a cowboy hat, and