How Did I Suddenly Gain Such a Huge Income?!

At Viscount Rost's shout, the throwers and magic Apprentices, as if driven by muscle memory, finally came to their senses.

Looking at the land below, which had been blasted beyond recognition, everyone's breathing grew heavy. The biting wind of Chilly Moon pierced their lungs, stimulating every sense and making them realize that all of this was real!

Those Mana Bombs could actually give an Apprentice the ability to cast magic instantly!

Even a group of low-order mages—no, even Mid-Order Mages—probably could not have done what had just happened, could they?!

"What are you standing around for? The magical glow is about to fade! Go search for our spoils of war! Knights! Warriors! We have created a miracle of war! Those bastards who wanted to invade our land and seize our property will probably never have the ability to enter Rost Territory again after this!"

Viscount Rost looked at the scene below the castle and shouted excitedly at the warriors around him.

With such enormous casualties, even if this was a coalition of several nearby nobles, they would be severely crippled!

After everyone had gone down from the walls, Rost looked at the remaining Mana Bombs and could not help muttering, "Technology God above! Your creations are truly magnificent!"

Although Mana Bombs bore the name of magic and had been purchased from followers of the Magic Goddess, considering that the Magic Net Ring required prayers to two gods, and that these Mana Bombs differed from every magical item he had seen before, Rost made a reasonable yet bold guess—these special magical devices came from the Technology God!

No one knew what the word "technology" actually meant. Many people discussed it in Magic Space, but they had never reached a conclusion.

Rost felt that he seemed to have found the key...

The last trace of magical radiance vanished.

Outside the city, everything returned to a vast expanse of white, like the most ordinary patch of snow beneath Chilly Moon.

Viscount Rost's guardian knight led the soldiers in their search beneath the night sky.

With the knight skill Danger Sense activated to its fullest, even though he believed no one could have survived such bombardment, he still chose to proceed cautiously.

"Watch those who have fallen! If their bodies are still intact, make sure to give them another stab! Never let down your guard! Anyone who can survive such bombardment is among the very best of the extraordinary!"

The guardian knight called out loudly, his gaze vigilantly sweeping the surroundings.

Yet everywhere he looked, there were only enemies who were thoroughly dead.

Take the man in light mercenary armor before him. Before his death, he had been at least a Mid-Order Knight, yet now his face was unrecognizable. Burns and frostbite covered the same body, while countless puncture wounds crisscrossed it. It looked so bizarre, so striking.

It was normal for magic to cancel out other magic, something almost everyone took for granted. Yet under the relentless bombardment of Mana Bombs, these spells showed no signs of negating one another. Instead, they created an effect of scorching fire and freezing ice upon the enemy's bodies.

After a long search, the guardian knight found, in the enemy's "rear," the area where the mages had suffered the heaviest casualties. The frail mages had been even more miserable under this barrage than the knight retainers.

Near the corpses of those mages, several fully armed Mid-Order Knights in plate armor had also been hidden. They appeared to have remained in the rear to protect the mages against infiltrators or suicide squads. Unfortunately, they had not even gotten the chance to draw their swords before being blasted into a miserable state by the relentless Mana Bombs.

There was hardly a single uninjured spot on their bodies.

The throwers all knew that this was where their greatest threat lay, so when they had thrown freely, they had paid special attention to this area.

A strange emotion flashed through Viscount Rost's guardian knight's eyes.

A fully armed Mid-Order Knight could receive several villages and mills of his own in any territory, already having entered high society. Yet now, he had died so miserably that he did not even know who had killed him...

Perhaps this was the most aggrieved guardian knight to die in the world!

The tide of war seemed to have changed just now... That was what the guardian knight thought, but he felt no pity in his heart. These were invading enemies. No matter how miserably they died, it was a path they had chosen themselves.

Besides, his master, Viscount Rost, was a man worthy of respect. How could he die at the hands of such filthy enemies?!

Steadying himself, he continued his careful inspection.

By this point, he already knew with absolute certainty that there was almost no chance any survivors remained here.

Even powerful Mid-Order Knights armed to the teeth had died so miserably. Who else could have endured it?

Before long, the bodies were gathered together. Mercenaries, knights, mages... every enemy had fallen under the bombardment of Mana Bombs. Whether ordinary people or extraordinary individuals, facing such an attack, there seemed to be only one path—death!

There had not even been a chance to run!

These mountain-like piles of corpses would be dealt with by corpse collectors tomorrow.

Unfortunately, even at this point, they had found no remaining clues. These people did not even seem like mercenaries; they were more like stinking sewer rats. They did not even have travel permits, much less evidence that they belonged to some noble lord...

"Doll! Doll! Something feels wrong!"

Roger, who had been preparing to rest after watching a Graycastle Empire "television program," suddenly sensed something strange. After examining it carefully, he abruptly called out toward the outside.

"Sir Roger, may I ask what has happened? As the goddess's adviser, I possess knowledge and wisdom far beyond Betty's. If you have any questions, you may ask me directly. There is no need to call that Betty over. Besides, she is still researching how to create Mid-Order Mana Bombs and has no time to bother with you. I, however, am different..."

"...It's about faith. Are you sure you know anything about that?" Roger rubbed his temples helplessly. "I just received a strange amount of faith. I can clearly sense that it came from a single believer, but that one believer actually generated one drop of faith, equivalent to a normal magic Apprentice praying one hundred times! No, at least two hundred times!"

"Oh! Heavens! I never expected you to receive such a huge amount of faith in the middle of the night. This is truly wonderful news. Congratulations on taking another step toward godhood! But regarding the reception of faith power, you should ask Miss Betty. She knows more about that..."

Book, did you notice that even the way you addressed me had changed?

Was this your lower limit? Did it fluctuate according to the question being asked?

Roger really wanted to complain, but he did not say anything. What concerned him more now was where this faith had come from... He knew that the moment he said it aloud, Book would definitely send him a thousand-word essay.

After Roger summoned her a second time, Betty instantly appeared in the bedroom. "I'm conducting an experiment! If it fails, are you going to compensate me for the materials?! Didn't you say there were no more tasks today and that we were going to rest?"

"I suddenly received a strange amount of faith from one person. Their strength was at most that of a Mid-Order Mage, yet they generated one drop of faith, equivalent to an ordinary magic Apprentice praying two hundred times. Do you know why?"