Stepping into the Sublime Cathedral, he was quickly guided through the halls of polished marble towards the sanctum to the four pantheons where her Ladyship the Pope resided. The servant leading the way dared not look in his direction. He was the previous Cardinal of Purity, a title accompanied by a fearsome reputation built over a long life of purging heretics and inhuman monsters. The fear the servant showed him was simply a given for a man of his station.
Inquisitor Helbrand had just returned from the accursed Dark Continent, where he had been sent to the land of demons and monsters in a last-ditch effort to avert war. But even when he had shown all the kindness he could stomach to the Vampire she-devil that named herself the Dark Lord of the Shadow Empire, she had rebuffed him.
Worse still, she had made her intentions to press forward with an invasion of the Holy Continent very clear. This was a true emergency situation, as while the Theocracy had been guiding the council member states towards preparing for war, it was years too soon for them to be fully ready.
Arriving at the doors carved from a pure, white wood with angelic scenes carved into it, standing at the entrance, Helbrand waited to be allowed entry. “My Lady Inquisitor, General Helbrand has arrived,” the servant declared towards the door.
“Is it the young one or the old one?” a melodic voice asked from just beyond the doors.
“T-the old one, m-my lady,” the servant replied, stuttering momentarily as he glanced over at Helbrand's scowl.
“Helbrand, you may enter,” the voice declared after a moment's pause. In response to her voice, the doors slowly swung open, revealing the Sanctum. The room itself had ten walls, the door fitted into one and an altar to each of the four pantheons separated by another. Above each altar were beautifully painted murals depicting the gods of each.
The Barbaric Northern Pantheon, with its lead god Odin in the centre surrounded by his subordinates. The Southern Pantheon, with its mural split in two, depicting both orders of the pantheon, Zeus and Jupiter, front and centre showing the dual nature of their dynasties.
The Dune Sea Pantheon was the next one that caught his attention, Ra at its core shining radiantly. Finally, there was the Eastern Pantheon’s mural. It had various gods circling the centre, in part because it was a far more varied faith than the others.
In the middle of the room, lit up by beams of light streaking in through the windows, stood the most beautiful being Helbrand had ever laid his eyes upon. She had appeared only twenty-four years ago and was such a divine entity that the date system for the world began with her arrival. Her long blonde hair was tied up in braids, her captivating eyes appearing like rich sapphire crystals hewn by the greatest artisans that could ever be, never to be surpassed in their elegance.
Lying flat on the ground before such a being, Helbrand waited to be addressed. “Come now, the floor doesn’t need cleaning; my servants do it already, Helbrand,” she said, looking bemused at his prostration.
“Forgive me, my lady, but to stay standing before an angel that had descended would be blasphemy.”
“Hush now. Stand up, I don’t like talking to the back of people's heads,” she insisted.
“Yes, my Lady,” Helbrand replied, rising up but still keeping his head lowered in deference. The woman let out a long sigh.
“I suppose this will have to do. Tell me, what was the Vampire’s response?”
Looking up briefly, Helbrand could see her eyes shone with a brilliant light as she asked the question. She was ever eager to know about such things; the Dark Continent was a significant focus of her attention.
“Yes, my Lady… the Vampire has rejected our peace offering.”
“Oh my… to think she would not accept such an offer,” the woman muttered, a spark of glee entering her voice.
“Yes, she even announced her intent to launch a preemptive invasion on human lands. I fear we must call the banners before it is too late.”
“She really said that?” an almost ecstatic voice said as Helbrand felt a pair of silky smooth hands grasp his head, forcibly lifting his gaze to meet hers. Feeling a pang of fear shoot through him, Helbrand could only try to nod despite her grip not allowing it.
“Y-yes, my Lady.”
“So we can fight them?” The woman's eyes glowed even brighter at the very thought of fighting such strong foes.
Helbrand internally sighed, as he dared not do it in her presence. Vespasia had descended over twenty years ago. The tales told to the followers of the Theocracy were that many great evils had appeared in the world. In their love, the gods had sent an angel to guide humanity to its rightful place as rulers.
Only the cardinals of the time knew the truth, a truth that none of them dared pass onto their successors that now resided in their respective thrones. That Vespasia had not descended to the mortal world to spread the love of the gods and to defend the righteous. No, she had been exiled from Elysium due to a peculiar personality quirk. A quirk she was showing right at this moment.
“I shall love nothing more than to fight as many of them as possible. Helbrand, do you think they will be strong enough to give me a fun fight? I do hope so, because I have been bored playing with the paladins around here. Bunch of wishy-washy children!”
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Indeed, the Angel Vespasia was a battle junky who considered paladins capable of fighting a hundred men as ‘wishy-washy children.’ From what she had told the Cardinals that greeted her, she had repeatedly challenged many gods and other warrior angels to fight for the hell of it. After one too many challenges, the gods had banished her to the mortal world, or—in her own words—‘to make it the mortal's problem’.
“My Lady, please calm yourself,” Helbrand begged, feeling relief wash over him as she released his head.
“Sorry,” Vespasia apologized, looking sheepish. “You know how I get.”
“Yes, my Lady, but we have to prepare; you cannot solve all our problems regardless of your power,” Helbrand explained gently, trying to calm down the wild child that was his boss.
He left it unsaid that he feared the Dark Lord Crozonia may be more than a match for her, the pressure and overwhelming power he felt when he had met the damnable vampire still sent shivers down his spine. He had only ever felt such an aura once, and she was currently embracing a startled servant in the corner of the Sanctum.
“My Lady, whom can we call upon?” Helbrand questioned. While unified by a council of nations, the Holy Continent was still very much divided. It was only the Theocracy that helped keep them shepherded in the right direction.
“Hmmm…” Vespaisa muttered, stroking her chin in thought. “I know!” Her voice echoed around the Sanctum as a pair of wings of crystalised light suddenly form from her back.
“We can contact the Princess’ Guard and have them send us a force.”
Helbrand nodded to the suggestion. The Princess Guard was a unique order of knights that consisted entirely of maidens. They had originated from the recognition that it was cheaper to train Princesses to beat the dragons that often tried to kidnap them than it was to lose entire armies defending them.
Such an idea spread and within a mere few generations many nations fully embraced such a scheme. Soon the warrior princesses founded an entire order made and run entirely by warrior maidens. Many of them ended up queens in their own right. It was these circumstances that led to the shift towards a matriarchal society, as no King in possession of enough sense would start something with a queen who could crush their skull between her fingers.
“Who else?” Helbrand asked, curious who else would have caught her interest.
“What about the Locketurn Archipelago? They owe us for letting their mainland fleet get stolen.”
“My Lady, they were assaulted by several thousand warriors hailing from the Dark Continent; they cannot be entirely blamed for such a thing. Regardless, I believe they would let one of their Admirals lead a fleet to regain their lost honour.”
Helbrand, however, decidedly refused to admit the truth of the situation. He knew it was not an army, but a trio of individuals from the Dark Continent. He knew that if Vespasia learnt of them, she would charge off and start something. It was better to guide her by hiding some facts, after all.
“I read an interesting report recently about a new Dukedom,” the angelic woman declared with a mad grin. Helbrand audibly gulped; this was her ‘need to hunt’ face.
“Yes, my Lady, but they are still expanding. It may be too much to grant them the honour of participating in the crusade. Many other nations will take issue with it.”
“No, I think I will have them join despite any naysayers. Can’t let that boy Maxillius have all the fun. If he so wishes to avoid joining us he can provide a modest knight unit and some levies,” Vespasia announced, her tongue playing over her lips hungrily.
Helbrand could see through her barely concealed hidden agenda and made a mental note to ensure that Maxillius would not come himself. Better to sacrifice a small knight force than to be trapped by the angel herself.
“I believe we haven’t received the tithe from the Crossroads kingdom over the past few years?” Helbrand nodded to confirm this was the case. The kingdom was a merchant nation at the very centre of the continent. They made their living thanks to being the literal crossroads for trade on the continent at the crossroads. But had experienced issues due to a plague in one of their main trade partner's lands.
“Well, we will forgive their transgression in return for troops. I’m sure one of their countless mercenary forces will be more than enough,” Vespasia said, letting a sinister grin spread across her picturesque face.
Helbrand nodded while adding a mental note to never forget that this was a divine being. She may appear foolish at times and may actually be a fool, but she still had moments of cunning. Even now, seeing her like this, he did not feel as he had meeting the Dark Lord. When he met her, he felt like he was but an actor on her stage. A puppet with her pulling his strings.
“What about the Silver Hills?”
“The dwarves?” Helbrand asked aghast. Yes, dwarves were technically recognised as human, but they were still less than any true human. Letting such a subspecies take part in a crusade had never happened before.
“My Lady, I must advise against inviting them. They are not best suited to their mines, not for our holy war.”
“No, no… I’ve heard they are skilled warriors and have many skilled war engineers. We will have them among our numbers. I can’t wait to see what kind of siege engines they build.”
“As you command,” Helbrand replied, bowing low only to see her suddenly light up as she held a finger up.
“Oh, the sorcery kingdom owes us a lot, don’t they?”
Helbrand nodded. As a kingdom filled to the brim with magic users, the Klinto Kingdom of Sorcerers was one of the most powerful, yet smallest, nations of the Holy Continent. What they lacked in numbers, they made up in power. It was said that one archmage from that land could equal several thousand peasant levies.
The Theocracy also had a big bargaining chip to play against them, as a decade ago, the kingdom had become infested with demons and all manner of unholy creatures released by a misguided mage’s experiment. A mess that the Angel Vespasia herself had been all too happy to clean up.
Even now, Helbrand remembered seeing her return coated from head to toe in blood with the biggest, most childlike grin plastered across her face. The woman had singlehandedly ended a chaos that had been raging for a year in a single week.
Even now, Helbrand shuddered at the sheer strength needed to achieve such a feat. Legends often spoke of how strong the demons were in their true forms. What scared him the most, though, was that by the end of the campaign, she had complained about how easy it had become.
“Last, I think we will send Purity and Piety to bolster the numbers a little. Oh, also, that nice little boy, what was his name again? You there, he spoke with me this morning. Remind me what his name is?” She pointed to a servant standing near one of the free walls, the poor man nearly jumping out of his skin at being addressed by what, to him, was the holiest of holies.
“That was Bishop Angdlang, your most graciousness,” the servant stammered before collapsing flat on the floor prostrating himself before her.
“See, this is what it’s like. It is so uncomfortable. I say, ‘Talk to me like I’m a normal mortal,’ and you lot do stuff like this. It’s freaky sometimes. Anyways, that boy will be the commander of the Theocracy forces.”
“My Lady, I must protest this decision!” Helbrand knew of the bishop. He was a young man who had been born the year Vespasia had arrived. In that short life, he had bonded to multiple gods and thus ascended the ranks. But he was too unproven. To put two people who outranked him by several levels under his direct command would be too much for many in the Theocracy to accept. “I see… should I make him the eighth Cardinal then?”
“Please, no!” Helbrand hastily shouted, waving his hands in panic.
“We need only send a portion of the forces under the two Cardinals. They don’t need to leave themselves.”
“Awh, and I was hoping to see how those two actually fight.”
“My Lady…” Helbrand began before letting out a long sigh as he began feeling exasperated with his liege. She wasn’t even concealing her motives anymore.
“Don’t worry, I know what you’re thinking. Vespa, you are such a dummy. But I came here to get my fill of combat,” Helbrand retreated half a step, feeling a wave of intense pressure begin to roll off her as she let her aura begin to seep out.
“And I will have my fun.” A few of the servants began fainting, unable to endure the pressure any longer. Even Helbrand, a warrior that still garnered deep respect despite being beyond his prime was struggling to maintain consciousness.
“And no one… no mortal nor god will come between me and my fun.” Vespasia was now directly in front of him as he felt the last vestiges of his consciousness fade.