People from the Northern Territory all loved cracking heads open with flails—that was merely a stereotype, but Nora and Gwen really did both enjoy it.
The only difference was that Nora cared more about ritual. She had to recite the Holy Scripture, light the censer, and hammer the doctrine into heretics' minds.
Gwen, on the other hand, was simpler and more direct. She believed that smashing someone's skull was itself a form of doctrine.
Of course, that was all in the past. Now, the two of them were likely the only two or three followers of the Silent Temple still capable of moving, and neither of them was officially affiliated with the temple anymore.
Nora had been expelled, while Gwen had never formally been baptized into the faith in the first place.
Thus, neither of them had any reservations about knocking the Silent Temple priests on the head a few times. Judging by Nora's faintly upturned lips, it was hard to say whether there might not be a little personal grudge mixed in as well.
Richard was actually the most worried person present. After hesitating for a moment, he stepped forward to stop them. "You... aren't planning to just smash him, are you?"
The Burier was indeed a Transcendence, and his immortality was certainly formidable, but no matter how one looked at it, he did not seem like he could withstand a blow from a flail.
He was only unconscious right now. If one swing splattered his brains and guts everywhere, wouldn't that make Castel guilty of intentional murder?
If they could not explain this properly, the Empire and Castel might end up going to war.
Gwen and Nora exchanged a glance, both looking slightly awkward.
"Of course not!"
"How could we?"
Nora cleared her throat. "Ahem. I intend to