Along the banks of the Moskva River stood Saint Basil's Cathedral. Sixty-five meters tall and composed of eight beautiful towers, the cathedral was located near Red Square and had been commissioned by Tsar Ivan in the mid-sixteenth century.
Ever since its completion, this place had been the heart of the city, and even the center of the Grand Duchy of Moscow and Tsarist Russia.
But today, at the hour of dawn, not a single pedestrian could be seen on roads that should have been bustling with activity.
Rumble!
Boom! Crack!
As if foreshadowing the miserable fate awaiting the Russian Orthodox Church after joining forces with the Roman Catholic Church, lightning poured down here like rain without end.
All was deathly silent.
Such an extraordinary event occurring at such an unusual hour was already enough to unsettle people, and not long ago, the government had issued a combat readiness alert and evacuation order, further stoking public panic.
Not long before, news that Rome had been engulfed in flames and Vatican City had been razed to the ground had already spread across the entire world.
In the modern society of the twenty-first century, information traveled with incomparable speed.
The Italian government was simply incapable of concealing it, nor could it have hidden the truth even if it tried.
Within Vatican City, from the Pope, cardinals, and cardinal-bishops at the top to the Templar Knights, priests, and monks guarding the holy land below, not a single person had been spared.
From that moment onward, the Roman Catholic Church plunged into the darkest period of its entire history. Its cohesion suffered a devastating blow, and countless believers began questioning, or even abandoning, the Orthodox faith.
Some people even blamed this "divine punishment" on the alliance with the Slavs, claiming that the cardinal-bishops at the top had betrayed God's teachings, with the accusations pointed directly at the Russian Orthodox Church.
In short, the situation was extraordinarily chaotic.
Upon hearing the news and repeatedly confirming its authenticity, the federal government and the pro-war faction of the Russian Orthodox Church immediately exploded into uproar.
Originally, they had planned to let their ally charge in first while they coasted along and reaped more benefits. Instead, the Roman Catholic Church they had treated like a sucker had dropped to its knees outright!
Damn it! Now I'm the sucker.
Before the esteemed members of parliament could even respond, intelligence agencies scattered across Southern, Central, and Eastern Europe began sending reports that the "Angel of Destruction" appeared to be heading toward Eastern Europe...
She's coming for us!
The miserable state of Rome was still fresh in everyone's mind. Without needing to think twice, nobles and wealthy elites fled Moscow and other major cities one after another, hauling bags and supplies with them as they hid away in the countryside.
At that point, they could not even gather enough members for parliament to convene.
Rumors and panic spread at a terrifying rate. After the federal government issued its combat readiness alert and evacuation order, residents of many large cities began fleeing en masse, returning to their hometowns.
Meanwhile, even more people who could not evacuate in such a short time could only hide inside their homes, suspicious of everything and too afraid to go outside.
Various rumors began circulating...
Exarch Nikolai Tolstoy—guilty!
Tap, tap, tap!
As dense curtains of rain poured down and rolling thunder reverberated overhead, hurried footsteps echoed through the brightly colored tower corridors, accompanied by faint sounds of people shouting.
"Damn it! Damn it!! Damn it all—!!"
Someone roared at the top of his lungs, venting his fury. His voice pierced through the rain, hysterical enough to sound almost insane.
"It's coming toward Saint Petersburg. Is it heading for us?"
"That bastard Fiamma of the Right, and the Roman Catholic Church... They're all useless trash who can't accomplish anything and only ruin everything!!"
"Trash!! They talked about how powerful they were and how victory was assured, only for the enemy to come knocking at their door while that bastard ran away first! Shameless! Bastard! Damn red-haired monkey!"
Holding the rank of Exarch, Nikolai wore expensive bishop-class vestments trimmed with gold. Rainwater splashed up from the ground and stained the garments, and he had long since lost his usual composure and self-satisfaction.
He was certain that the opposition faction within the Russian Orthodox Church was already preparing to overthrow his rule.
"Where is the Patriarch?"
He shouted the question. The title belonged to his superior, yet there was not the slightest respect in his words, only thick disdain and contempt.
"The Patriarch is in the monastic palace inside the central tower. Rest assured, Exarch. Everyone guarding the Patriarch is one of ours and can be trusted."
"Mm." His voice calmed after he regained control of himself.
As long as the Patriarch remained in his hands, he, Nikolai, would still be the Exarch who stood beneath only one man and above all others. As for replacing the Patriarch himself, there would be plenty of opportunities in the future.
"We cannot allow the calamity summoned by those heretics to harm our beloved Patriarch. Prepare to relocate him. Bring the Patriarch here."
Compared with the hardened guards surrounding him, the middle-aged man could only be described as fat. Standing beneath a pavilion along the corridor, he issued his orders arrogantly.
"Yes!" ×N
"Quickly! Quickly! Get inside the cathedral!" A group of knights and professional magicians immediately split off, rushing through layer after layer of corridors and doors toward the palace where the Patriarch was being held under confinement.
Suddenly, Nikolai, who had been walking quickly, abruptly raised his head. "Who's there?! Come out!!"
"The man-eating granny of the hut on one leg~"
The next instant, accompanied by a girl's sing-song voice, an old woman wrapped in countless fragmented shadows appeared from thin air in the corridor and demonstrated her power.
Boom!
A massive block of flame exploded. The professional magicians charging forward immediately rolled across the ground, screaming and roaring in agony.
"Magical combat troops, knights, protect the Exarch!"
"Fairy-Tale Magic" · Vasilisa's Fairy Tale. Nikolai recognized whose spell formula this belonged to. The owner of that voice had repeatedly disobeyed his ecclesiastical orders within the Russian Orthodox Church.
An irritating noise.
"So it's you, you damned witch who fell in love at first sight with a man-eating monster... Hmph, Sister Vasilisa of Annihilatus. I don't know why you're here, but none of your actions were reported. Are you planning to renounce the faith?"
He straightened his episcopal robes and turned around. Regardless of anything else, the first thing he did was brand her an apostate.
"Spare me, Nikolai Tolstoy."
The woman's voice was completely impolite and even filled with hatred, immediately causing Nikolai's expression to stiffen. Vasilisa, the female leader of the Russian Orthodox Church's special unit Annihilatus, suddenly emerged from the cathedral's shadows.
"Nikolai, you are a sinner. You imprisoned the Patriarch and stole authority that never belonged to you. Whether declaring war on Academy City or drawing closer to the Roman Catholic Church, every one of those decisions was made on your own."
Outside the eaves, rain raged violently. Beneath them, weak lamplight trembled in the storm. The woman's originally red monastic robes seemed to have been dyed an even deeper crimson, with several places stained by blood.
"And Nikolai! You actually dared to capture Sasha while I was away!"
Vasilisa's attitude, as if she were judging a condemned sinner whose death was already certain, infuriated Nikolai immensely.
I handled Sasha Kreutzev's capture flawlessly, without leaving a single opening. Aside from Fiamma of the Right and my own people, no one knew. Where did she get the information?
"Utter nonsense. I, Nikolai Tolstoy, hereby issue an order in the name of the Exarch of the entire Russian Orthodox Church. Vasilisa has renounced the faith and attempted to assassinate the Patriarch. Her crimes are unforgivable. Execute her immediately."
With a cold laugh, Nikolai rejected the accusation with a gloomy expression. At the same time, strange vortices appeared around him. They consisted of transparent water, yet they did not truly exist.
"Water of Death!"
The instant the vortex appeared, the Russian Orthodox Church's triple-cross banners decorating the corridor burst into flames from nowhere.
Nikolai snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the bizarre water transformed into a tsunami and surged toward Vasilisa. In an instant, the afterimage of the man-eating old woman was swallowed by the transparent liquid and vanished.
Vasilisa made no attempt to respond. Instead, she slowly released a deep breath, turned around, bent one knee, and knelt.
"Your Highness, everything is yours to decide. The Russian Orthodox Church must withdraw from this meaningless war!"
"Easy enough." The voice was teasing.
Someone was this close?! And I didn't sense a thing? In an instant, every hair on Nikolai's body stood on end, and his flesh, long softened by years of comfort and idleness, abruptly tensed.
The next moment—hiss!
"Aaah!"
Sensing danger, Nikolai hurriedly rolled away. Accompanied by the horrifying sounds of sharp weapons slicing through flesh, several knights who had only just received orders to head toward the central tower collapsed into pools of blood.
Chunks of severed flesh scattered across the ground, dripping with blood and presenting an utterly horrific sight.
"Nikolai... What a fitting name for one who symbolizes destruction."
Tap, tap!
The first thing that entered his vision was a pair of crystalline scarlet eyes.
The silver-haired beauty wore a platinum-white ceremonial battle dress embroidered with exquisitely detailed golden holy lilies. Sacred light, six wings, and a halo emphasized Selene's inhuman and otherworldly charm.
"An angel... No, that's wrong. White hair, red eyes, diamond-shaped pupils... It's you, Academy City's Rank 1!"
Climbing to his feet, Nikolai stared fixedly into Selene's eyes. Recalling the main characteristics of Selene's appearance, realization dawned on him as he gritted his teeth. "Vasilisa, you traitor! You betrayed the Russian Orthodox Church and the Christian faith!"
"Academy City's strongest, our conflict with your academy was purely a misunderstanding. We were also victims deceived by the Roman Catholic Church. If you choose not to interfere, you will gain the friendship of the Russian Orthodox Church. We will also do everything in our power to end this unnecessary war and provide a reasonable explanation and compensation."
"That woman is nothing but an old witch. She's the remains of a girl who gained happiness only after burning her mother and sister to death! Compared with one fickle traitor, I believe the friendship of the entire Russian Orthodox Church carries far more weight."
He looked toward Selene, his words sincere and his expression earnest.
"Tch..."
Selene shook her head and ignored his words. She had never entertained the slightest intention of choosing him as a puppet. Wearing a faint mocking smile, she calmly extended one hand beneath Nikolai's wary gaze and clenched it.
Splurt—bang!
Crack! Crack, crack! Crack, crack, crack!
Crisp sounds of breaking bones rose one after another, like someone stepping over dry firewood. Snap, snap, and snap again, composing a horrifying symphony of shattered bones.
In an instant, blood sprayed everywhere and screams echoed continuously.
Nikolai discovered in terror that the elite magicians under his command had all vanished. What remained were chunks of flesh and fragments of bone in every conceivable size.
The interior of the sacred cathedral was now covered in gore and filth. The relief depicting the Ascension of Saint Basil and the oil paintings of the Virgin Mary were, without exception, coated in a layer of blood that was still dripping.
Thud.
Nikolai collapsed weakly to the ground. He swore he had never witnessed such a horrifying scene in his entire life. All light vanished from his eyes as he scrambled backward on hands and knees, no longer caring in the slightest about maintaining the dignity of an Exarch.
Selene silently lowered her hand. This man was far too greedy and completely lacked self-awareness.
A moment ago, he had spoken with righteous grandeur, packaging himself as a victim while condemning the Roman Catholic Church, yet Nikolai's hand hidden inside his robe had already secretly closed around a magical teleportation scroll, while the corner of his eye had drifted toward his nearby guards and the guardian knights rushing over as reinforcements.
"Why?! Why didn't the teleportation scroll activate?!"
Feeling as though he were sitting on a bed of needles, Nikolai screamed madly while retreating again and again until his palm touched something relatively large and solid.
Nikolai stiffly turned his head. It was a human head.
A twisted, bloody, mangled head with a familiar face.
The commander of his personal guard.
At this very moment, Nikolai's palm, smeared with a mixture of red and white matter, was pressing against the face of the skull whose rear half had been blown away, leaving only the facial bones intact.
Its sole remaining shriveled eyeball, coated in viscous fluid, was filled with endless pain and despair as it stared directly at him. There was something bizarre within the absurdity, and beneath its stillness brewed a profound unwillingness to die!
"Aaaaaah—!" Breathing heavily, Nikolai abruptly sprang to his feet with bloodshot eyes and smashed the facial bones apart with one blow.
"I surrender! I'm willing to surrender! I'll give up everything I possess, as long as..."
Shhk!
A blazing spear of light suddenly pierced straight through Nikolai's forehead!
The incomparably sharp, scorching spear of light punched through the brown hair at the back of his skull with wisps of white smoke, leaving behind nothing but fissured tears in flesh and the faintly tempting aroma of roasted brain.
A vast, insubstantial blaze suddenly spread outward from Selene's body. Blood, filth, and bones disintegrated without a trace almost instantly. Aside from the partially burned triple-cross banners, it was as though nothing had ever happened here.
"The surrender agreement and a declaration of war against the remnants of the Roman Catholic Church. You know what to do, don't you?" Selene asked while examining the Russian Orthodox Church's black-patterned triple-cross banner on a white field. At the same time, she casually beckoned with one hand.
Floating through the air like a captured quail, the so-called supreme Patriarch of the Russian Orthodox Church trembled violently at the shoulders in terror.
He was a slender figure with blond hair and brown eyes, possessing curves more captivating than those of Vasilisa, an actual woman. He looked so frail that if he were tossed outside for three days, he would probably fall into an eternal sleep.
He wore solemn vestments specially made for the Patriarch, yet there was not the slightest trace of authority about him. He looked more like a child who had put on his father's suit to play pretend.
"Y-Yes... I will carry out your instructions..." Perhaps he had grown accustomed to meek obedience, because he did not dare disobey a single word Selene spoke.
Clearly, witnessing Selene crush dozens of magicians to pieces had left this boy of around fifteen completely stunned and possibly even psychologically scarred.
And this was supposed to be the leader of one of Christianity's three major denominations. Still, for a vassal state of Ferdinand, it was more than sufficient.
Riiip!
"He's as fragile as a porcelain doll. He's still somewhat useful, so don't let him die."
After glancing at him a few times, Selene lost interest. He was still nestled in Vasilisa's arms as Selene waved her hand, tearing open a multicolored Garganta through the fabric of the physical universe and stepping halfway inside.
"Your Highness, won't you participate in the surrender ceremony?" Seeing that Selene was about to leave, Vasilisa hurriedly asked.
"Not interested. I trust you won't disappoint me... As for me, I still need to hurry over and enjoy the final dessert before the main feast."