The falling griffins cried out mournfully.
Longswords and spears stabbed into their bodies without hesitation, utterly disregarding their value.
"My lord, we found the archbishop!" someone reported.
Romon stepped forward and saw him.
The archbishop, a man in his fifties, looked somewhat disheveled, covered in blood. The approaching footsteps made him raise his head.
The archbishop's expression was calm as he gave Romon a thoughtful smile.
"You have won, Count Teta Xiao, but this victory will be the cause of your destruction."
"I never consider things that far ahead, nor do I believe in any prophecy. To me, once someone is an enemy, what kind of enemy they are no longer matters in the slightest."
"Besides, each serves their own master. When your priests blasphemed my lord, everything that happened today was already decided."
"And on the battlefield, there is no need to think about such things." Romon smiled calmly. "Please extend your head. I think that if I had been defeated, I too would have gone to the stake."
The archbishop's face twisted somewhat, but he still lowered his head.
The longsword swept out. The archbishop's head flew away, and spraying blood shot three feet into the air.
Everyone around them was stunned. In just a few words, Romon had personally cut off the archbishop's head.
"Requisition the nearby villages and laborers!" Romon ordered. "The autumn rain is bitterly cold. Our wounded warriors cannot remain in the rain for long."
"Yes!" The order was swiftly carried out. A nearby village's headman's residence, warehouses, and inn immediately began taking in the wounded.
"As for the enemies of the Radiance Church, kill them all, but do not desecrate them. Gather every corpse, wash them, dress them all in hempen clothes, and wait for the Radiance Church to claim them."
"Collect all