svetikya Chapter 315 5 fingers
Chapter 315 5 fingers
Chapter 315 Five Fingers
"Shieldbearers, form a line at the top! Don't let the heretics' evil magic succeed!"
On the blood-mist-shrouded plains, the commander, dressed as a knight, was nearly hoarse from shouting, yet he was still dutifully issuing orders.
To those unaware of the truth, he simply ordered his men to their deaths, treating their lives as disposable resources—a typical image of a high-ranking villain.
But as the commander, he knew very well that if he did not issue such a suicidal order, and if he did not firmly grasp the entire force in his hands, the expeditionary force would collapse instantly.
The sudden attack was like a thunderclap, stirring up a storm in the hearts of every soldier. The wide, filthy river cut off their retreat and swept away many people from the rear.
The expeditionary force was caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, and even worse news was yet to come.
They lost their connection with the church and could no longer pray to their faith; thus, the magic was greatly diminished.
Every inch of this land is filled with malice; the filthy blood mist will actively seep into their skin, gradually wearing down their bodies.
A faint murmur drifted from the mist, blasphemous words seeping into the soldiers' ears, constantly polluting their minds and attempting to sway them into abandoning their faith and joining the ranks of heretics.
The series of unforeseen events brought the morale of the expeditionary force to a low point.
The commander had to fight against the world's malice while diverting the soldiers' attention with orders, leaving them no time to think about anything else.
At times like these, ignorance is bliss; the more you think, the easier it is to fall into the trap of heresy.
The blazing light tore through the blood mist and slammed into the shield wall constructed by divine magic.
The silvery shield wall reflected the light, dispersing the immense energy contained within the beam and saving the expeditionary force behind it from certain death.
It was only the shield guards who suffered the most. They gritted their teeth and endured the intense heat, feeling as if their hands were touching red-hot iron. Many of them suffered from festering sores.
Although less than a second had passed, some of the shield guards still couldn't hold out and vanished into thin air.
The surviving shield guards weren't in much better shape; most of them were covered in burns and scalds, with blisters and festering sores on their skin.
The air still held a restless, lingering heat, mixed with the aroma of half-cooked meat.
The priests behind them felt their hearts pounding wildly, and upon smelling the odor, a wave of discomfort surged up from their throats.
But this was ultimately just discomfort; those who had been trained were still able to control their bodies and knew what they should do.
The priests of the Tide Church chanted prayers, healing and blessing each wounded shield bearer.
The injury healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, but no one was happy about it.
"Too slow." The commander frowned. "A Tide Priest Corps should be able to handle all this in a matter of moments, but now it's taking at least ten seconds."
"This demonic land severely restricts divine magic."
He saw the problem, but had no solution.
"We can't get in touch with the church either, and reinforcements haven't arrived yet. The expeditionary force is going to get lost here."
As he muttered to himself, ghostly figures reappeared in the fog.
The expeditionary force, having already dealt with these strange beings, knew how troublesome they were, and everyone acted as if facing a formidable enemy.
"These blasphemous creatures again! Everyone, be on high alert... shields raised!"
The shield bearers' pupils contracted sharply. Without time to think or care about their still-healing injuries, they instinctively raised their shields.
In the distance, on the reddish-brown horizon, a blinding white light shone again, illuminating the Demon Land as bright as day.
The light spears descended from the sky, forcing the shield guards to once again form a silver mirror shield wall, attempting to block them with their shields as before.
While the expeditionary force was struggling, the church, which they were concerned about, was not idle either.
In order to rescue the expeditionary force, they had to send more people again. After all, many of those selected for the expeditionary force were elites, and the high command could not accept their unexplained deaths.
However, while the church's intentions were good, mistakes were made in their actual implementation.
Faced with the raging Acheron River, not only the reinforcements but even the Pope were in a dilemma.
If this were just an ordinary large river, they could cross it at will, and even divert its flow and change its course without any problem.
The problem is that this filthy, cold, dark red river is not an ordinary major river.
Their boats couldn't float on the river, and people couldn't swim across. Anything that went into the water would inevitably sink.
They did consider flying over, but every time they flew halfway there, they would crash into the area of gravity anomaly, and nine out of ten people would be dragged off.
Another one encountered a spatial turbulence from who-knows-where and was swept into a dimensional rift, disappearing without a trace.
"Everyone, I have good news and bad news."
At the round table, Mordi, dressed in papal robes, wore his usual smile, surrounded by his nominal colleagues.
The Pope of Life said in a deep voice, "Now that things have come to this, stop being so mysterious and just tell us what you have to say."
"Let me start with the bad news. The bad news is that the method of digging the tunnel failed. No matter how deep we dug, we could never reach the bottom of the riverbed. There seems to be a spatial distortion zone around that river."
After a pause, Mordy's smile deepened, and under the watchful eyes of the popes, he continued, "The good news is that we have found a way to cross the river."
He casually summoned a model projection and drew some simple annotation lines on it.
"As you can see, this is a section of the River Styx, and the surface of the river is covered with many areas of gravity anomalies."
"After paying a heavy price, our cultivators finally figured out the pattern and discovered a relatively safe teleportation channel."
Upon hearing his use of the word "relatively safe," the Tide Pope couldn't contain his doubts and asked, "What level of risk do you mean by 'relatively safe'?"
"I don't know either," Modi shrugged. "I haven't tried it, how would I know?"
"6
After a moment of silence, the Pope of Life, a proponent of war, spoke up: "This is the only way for us to cross the river, isn't it? We have to try."
As the impromptu meeting came to an end, Modi once again approached his so-called ally before leaving.
"What's up?"
Pope Black Moon frowned slightly, a hint of worry in her eyes, clearly indicating that the recent situation had left her physically and mentally exhausted.
"Well, just a heads up, it's best not to let your people go too deep. If possible, make sure you have a way out."
The pope was somewhat surprised by his reminder, saying, "To be defeated before the battle even begins is a major taboo in warfare."
"That's true, but don't you think we have no chance of winning?"
Modi smiled and explained, "That old man has gone mad. He's desperate to destroy the core of the Heretic Holy Domain, but he hasn't considered the chances of success. Even if he succeeds, he hasn't thought about how much he'll lose."
"I'm afraid he's prepared to sacrifice the entire expeditionary force. Frankly, I suspect he's hiding something, which is why he doesn't care about the sacrifice of the expeditionary force. But we're different."
He stopped there and didn't continue.
He trusted the Black Moon Pope's judgment and believed she would heed his words.
Although the Blood God Cult had long been prepared for war, a group of enemies who wanted to escape at any time was always easier to deal with than a group of enemies who were determined to die.
How long has it been since they arrived in this godforsaken place?
The knight, a member of the Church of Life, drew his sword and began to breathe heavily, like a broken bellows. He was now delirious and couldn't even remember how long he had been fighting.
What sustained him in his fight, besides his unwavering faith, was his hope for reinforcements from the church.
But now... looking at the battlefield before him, even with his unwavering faith, he couldn't help but feel despair.
At this point in the battle, will reinforcements still arrive?
Before my eyes was a thick, damp mist of blood. Every breath felt like being immersed in a pool of blood and swallowing a mouthful of bloody water. The stench seemed to be mixed with the smell of rust.
Countless figures lurked in the fog, taking advantage of the opportune moment and terrain to divide and slaughter the expeditionary force.
Those were the Blood God's henchmen; to outsiders, they usually referred to themselves as the Blood God's Five Fingers.
To the west was the Thumb Line, where soldiers who loved firearms, brass, and steel seemed like fearless machines, showing little emotion even when killed.
The church analyzed them and ultimately concluded that:
On the surface, they are living, breathing individuals, but in reality, they have long since abandoned independence and handed over the power of thought to others, namely their superiors.
The knight felt only disdain for the soldiers and commanders of the thumb, considering them nothing more than flesh and blood machines.
To the north is the index finger of the five fingers; they like to wear black clothes and white robes, and fight with all kinds of swords.
Similar to five fingers that only obey orders from superiors, they also only obey the orders of a certain being, which they call "instructions".
Compared to the church, they are more like religious madmen, the only difference being that the god they worship is actually the Blood God disguised as Command.
The middle finger and the ring finger are stationed on the east and south sides, respectively.
The knight didn't know much about the two fingers, since he was on the northwest front and mainly dealt with the first two fingers.
All he knew was that the former valued family and hatred extremely highly, while the latter was a group of renowned mad artists.
Besides these four fingers, there is also the little finger, which is the least noticeable of the five fingers, but its danger level cannot be denied.
Unlike the other fingers, which often join forces for a frontal attack, the little finger usually hides among the other four fingers, infiltrating the enemy while the other four fingers are attacking to carry out a decapitation strike.
Even more extreme, some of them are originally members of the other four fingers and will move along with the other four fingers.
"Here it comes again." The knight heard a huge roar and felt a sharp pain in his eardrums, as if the sound was about to tear them apart.
He knew perfectly well that this was the sound of a land-based naval gun being fired.
Those flesh-and-blood machines even deployed land-based ships to deal with the expeditionary force.
Each land-based warship is a mobile fortress, complete with its own shields and capable of providing fire support across the battlefield.
If provoked, they can even self-destruct their power plants, causing a terrible annihilation phenomenon.
"And the index finger... How did they manage to perfectly avoid every bombing? Could it be that their so-called orders were really protecting them?"
The knight struggled to parry the attacks of the index finger proxy, and the two sides clashed amidst a flurry of sword strikes.
As life and death swirled, the knight swung his greatsword like a windmill, the blade whipping up a massive amount of death energy that ruthlessly plundered the remaining life force of the surrounding corpses.
He hadn't originally planned to do this, but the situation was critical, and the blood mist was eroding his reason and faith, causing his bottom line to drop without him realizing it.
He simply didn't realize that.
"Heretics, die!"
With a loud shout, the knight leaped forward, raised his greatsword high, and then brought it down.
The death energy clinging to the blade was completely transformed, cleaving a deep, unfathomable chasm in the ground.
But that's all.
To his astonishment, the proxy, as if possessed by divine intervention, dodged the sword strike almost at the very edge of its edge, like a feather.
"This is also a command from the index finger? Bullshit!"
He deliberately created an opening before unleashing the sword that was expected to be so powerful, but he never expected this result.
The index finger executor said coldly, "Instructions only need to be carried out; no further thought is required."
Before he finished speaking, he lunged forward and continued to fight the knight, who was at least at the bishop level.
The two swords clashed, but separated instantly.
In the midst of the fierce battle, the knight's eyes suddenly sharpened, and he changed his greatsword technique to force the enemy back, then quickly created distance.
This time, instead of immediately engaging the enemy, he diverted some attention to the other side of the battlefield.
"Reinforcements have finally arrived."
Having confirmed that the person teleporting over was one of their own, the knight breathed a sigh of relief and focused on the battle once more.
"Huh? You're planning to run away?"
For some reason, his enemy, the one who represented the index finger, did not immediately step forward to fight him with his sword, but instead quietly retreated.
That shouldn't be the case. According to his understanding of the index finger, they wouldn't give up until the instruction was completed.
You could say they're similar to the thumb, except one delegates thinking to a superior, while the other delegates instructions.
"The orders have changed. My mission is complete." The agent gave a cryptic smile. "As for you, I hope you can make it back to the south alive."
After uttering these nonsensical words, the executor disappeared into the blood mist.
The knight frowned. At first, he didn't understand the deeper meaning behind those words and thought that the enemy was seeing the situation was not good and was planning to retreat.
However, the blood mist grew thicker, and tremors came from underground; these phenomena all seemed to indicate that... something big was about to happen.
The knight gazed into the depths of the blood mist, ignoring the cheers of his comrades as the five fingers withdrew, his expression growing increasingly grave.
Taking a deep breath, he sternly stopped his colleagues' cheers and ordered them to assemble immediately.
"Weren't the five fingers repelled?"
"The Five Fingers have indeed been repelled, but don't forget, the Blood God Cult has a regular army besides the Five Fingers..."
""
Those army groups are the main force of the Blood God Cult. Compared with the Five Fingers, the regular army has a more compact structure and greater strength.
The expeditionary soldiers who understood his words were already drenched in sweat.
They fought an irregular army away from home, and now they have to fight a regular army. Can they win?
As the new commander temporarily chosen after the death of the original commander, the knight could only comfort him by saying, "At least our reinforcements have arrived, and the church has not given up on us... I hope we can win this battle."
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