Isha didn’t really understand why she was adored by the refugees. To her, the monks from the Church of the Holy Rescue who stood steadfast on the front lines of the war deserved more respect.
Just two days ago, Isha wasn’t ready to fight and was already planning to sacrifice herself, but the old village chief had asked her, “Do you really think that sacrificing yourself will allow everyone to survive?”
The old village chief actually knew everything, but he still drank the Holy Water Isha offered, reassuring her.
Now, there was only one path before everyone: to struggle.
The starving refugees faced the fully armed noble guards, which seemed like a dead end. Moreover, this was a world with magic where just one or two mages could enact complete domination over these Muggles.
But it didn’t matter anymore. Those unwilling to become corpses had no choice but to fight, and since death was inevitable, why not take one final gamble?
As promised, the castle doors slowly opened, and Count Yager’s overly smug face appeared before everyone once again.
In these two days, Count Yager had lamented that the women among these refugees were too easy to toy with; three had already died within just two days, one even muttering about her child before she passed, which was truly disgusting.
As for the refugees gathered at the castle’s entrance, Count Yager didn’t care. In his eyes, no matter how many of these lowly bloodlines amassed, it was meaningless; once that silver-haired nun was tricked into the castle, he would wipe out all these lowly bloodlines.
Opening the castle doors to see Isha surrounded by the crowd, Yager maintained his noble etiquette and elegantly asked her, “How are your considerations going, faux Sister?”
Just as Yager was feeling superior due to his graceful demeanor, he noticed that the atmosphere seemed a bit awkward.
The number of refugees at the castle entrance far exceeded Yager’s expectations; he didn’t even know when so many had gathered around his castle.
He only wanted to lure a woman into the castle, so he had come out with just a few servants, and the countless hungry eyes at the castle gate filled him with a moment of fear.
“But they are just lowly bloodlines, Yager, you are a noble, a noble!”
After comforting himself in his heart, Yager regained his arrogance, but before he could utter the next sentence, a simple “Kill!” had already resonated through the air and filled Yager’s mind.
The refugees outside the castle charged at the main gate with sickles, hoes, and wooden sticks.
Yager’s first reaction was not to order the castle gates closed, nor to hide behind his guards, but to shout, “I am a count bestowed by Your Majesty, how dare you! Truly dare!?”
If it weren’t for his guards pulling him back, Yager might have been struck dead by a shovel from the man at the front of the charge.
But it was precisely because Yager did not issue orders immediately that Isha led the refugees into the castle.
In that moment, the Holy Light in Isha’s hand almost lost all its glow, yet she felt a sense of relief.
Countless refugees surged towards the castle, venting their emotions freely; one person couldn’t defeat the soldiers coming to support Yager, so five or ten people came together.
At that moment, Isha seemed to witness the true divine revelation about unity from the scriptures.
Just then, a second-tier mage rushed in, looking disheveled, holding a staff in one hand while his mouth still bore remnants of sauce he hadn’t had time to wipe clean.
The mage waved his staff to construct a spell model, but Isha, channeling the last remnants of Holy Light, unleashed a Divine Light spell that blinded the mage.
Because he had rushed in and no one had time to assist him, the noble mage, whom the refugees wouldn’t even dare to look at on normal days, was instantly submerged by the surge of people.
But that was only the beginning.
The castle was not initially designed for comfort but rather for military functionality.
Just like Yager’s castle, although the outer layer was breached, the guards quickly pulled Yager into the inner layers, and the gates to the inner sanctum were tightly shut. The refugees alone would never be able to break through; the inner layers had an endless stream of soldiers pouring out through designated gates.
After the first wave of attacks, the refugees lost their fighting spirit. Some collapsed from starvation, while others ran off to find food, frantically eating the remaining scraps.
But Yager’s soldiers seemed endless.
It was just that the sheer number of refugees made it appear somewhat evenly matched.
However, those surrounding Isha did not falter due to the other refugees; they stayed firmly by Isha’s side.
Isha even took matters into her own hands without relying on the Holy Light, knocking several soldiers unconscious with a shovel.
But at that moment, some of the refugees suddenly stopped wielding their weapons.
This was because Count Yager had hung numerous silhouettes on the inner walls, and he himself was using a mage’s magic to amplify his voice, shouting to the refugees.
“You lowly bloodlines, listen to me!”
“If you dare to stain my castle with your manure-soiled feet again, I’ll kill one woman every ten minutes.”
At that moment, the refugees realized that the silhouettes hanging on the walls were the women Yager had brought into the castle just two days earlier.
Even before Yager could act, some of those women were already corpses, covered in wounds.
To Count Yager, the most pressing issue now was that these filthy, shoeless refugees were trampling his carefully arranged castle floors with their manure-stained feet.
To ensure the castle floors were not tainted by lowly blood, Yager did not send out the professionals from the inner city but instead threatened the refugees to leave.
Meanwhile, a third-tier mage threw a fireball into the sky, stunning all the refugees.
“Dammit!”
The man holding the shovel looked tearfully at the corpses on the wall, but all the refugees remained silent, seemingly too frightened by the mage’s power, a force they dared not confront.
However, Isha could no longer hold back as she gazed at the corpses on the wall; all notions of faith and the goddess were thrown aside. Isha now only wanted to capture Yager and personally interrogate him according to the scriptures, disregarding her own qualifications to do so.
“Free the castle, capture Yager alive!”
With blood rushing to her head, Isha raised the scripture that symbolized the goddess’s divine revelation and shouted loudly.
“Kill her, kill her now!”
At this point, Yager was no longer concerned with sparing Isha’s life and was frantically directing the professional mages.
The mages quickly reacted and began constructing spell models to capture the leader first.
But at that moment, a miracle occurred. As Isha continuously shouted, “Free the castle, capture Yager alive,” a firelight suddenly streaked across the sky, and a meteor came crashing down towards the castle.
Everyone present held their breath, watching the meteor explode in the air, raining fire down into Yager’s ranks.
The fire rain didn’t even harm the refugees, striking precisely into Yager’s forces.
Divine retribution; that was the sole thought of everyone present.
The fire rain shattered Yager’s army’s morale; several mages who planned to create a protective magic barrier hadn’t even had time to cast their spells before they were precisely struck down by the fire rain.
The refugees watched this scene in dumbfounded awe, as if a deity were intentionally helping them.
Although Isha felt it was incredible and wondered if the goddess was watching over her, she quickly shook off such thoughts, leading the refugees in rallying cries:
“Free the castle, capture Yager alive!”
“Free the castle, capture Yager alive!”
A sign from the divine; Yager saw a sign.
The previously scattered refugees united in the face of the sudden divine signal and finally began organizing an effective attack, while Yager’s soldiers were already terrified out of their wits, as the refugees swiftly overwhelmed Yager’s castle.
