Zachary Finch, the Central Holy Church's Cardinal of Military Affairs, was furious—but helpless.
He wanted to attack. To counterattack.
But no one else would accept it.
"Those people are actually content to defend passively!"
"They denounce us as heretics and seize our land. We should activate the holy-war conscription system, unite those loyal to the faith, and launch a counterattack!"
"This is heresy against the faith."
At the Holy Papal State's central headquarters, the Central Holy Church's Cardinal of Military Affairs was beside himself with rage. His grizzled beard trembled, and the knuckles of the hand gripping his scepter had turned white.
"And this offensive is nothing but a disgrace! The wars before it were disgraces too!"
His roar echoed beneath the dome, leaving the young monks standing guard silent as cicadas in winter. "An army of several hundred thousand—when that heretic Lynn landed, he carved them apart, encircled them, and devoured them as though driving a flock of sheep! And what were our so-called 'allies' and 'brothers' doing?"
"The Devil Race cannot be trusted, and neither can the vampires!"
He slammed the table furiously. "None of them believe in the Central Holy Church!"
"They keep shirking responsibility! They're busy reinforcing their own trenches, dressing it up as 'defense in depth'! They bury their heads in the sand and think Lynn's artillery fire won't find them! This is betrayal! Blasphemy against the faith!"
His voice had gone hoarse with agitation. "What is Lynn? He is a blasphemer! A plague that spreads heretical poison! He desecrates graves, digs up ancestral tombs, and seduces those lambs weak in will! What he takes is not land, but the souls of believers! Against an enemy like this, passive defense means sitting still and waiting for death! We must attack! We must use the flames