"Get out of the way! Get out of the way now!"

The captain of the guard's shrill roar changed, and he was the first to stumble to the side in a disheveled state, no longer caring about the majesty of the papal decree.

His golden-armored guards were as if they had been granted a pardon.

With a whoosh.

The once-solid defenses crumbled instantly, with people rushing towards both sides of the street.

They wished they could squeeze their bodies into the gaps in the reliefs on the wall, afraid that if they were a step too slow, they would be skewered into meat by those gleaming lances.

The city gate guards were already stunned by this sudden turn of events.

They belong to the city's defense system and usually check believers. When have they ever faced such a legion-level charge?

Seeing that even the Pope's personal guards were scared out of their wits, who would dare to stop them?

Moreover, the prestige that Commander Alfonso held in the hearts of the lower-ranking soldiers, forged by blood and merit, far surpassed that of the reclusive Pope.

The guard captain almost instinctively roared, "Open the gate! Let them through! Quickly!"

The heavy city gate winch made a screeching metallic sound as the guards frantically pushed it open, and the massive iron-clad wooden gate was quickly pulled open, wide enough for cavalry to pass through.

"Boom—!"

The thunderous roar of iron hooves pounding the stone slabs was deafening. The Thirteenth Holy Knights transformed into a silent silver lightning bolt, without the slightest pause.

Like a flood bursting its banks, it surged out of the holy city with unstoppable force from that crevice!

The billowing dust instantly engulfed the doorway.

The captain of the papal guard watched helplessly as the silver torrent disappeared outside the city gates. Only then did he scramble up from behind the pillar where he had been hiding, still shaken and trembling with rage.

His carefully prepared principles and dignity were crushed by the other party in the most brutal way, which was an utter disgrace!

"Traitor! Alfonso Lin! You traitor to the Holy Light! You betrayer of the faith!"

He rushed to the city gate, pointing at the billowing smoke and dust outside the city, jumping up and down and cursing, his voice sharp with extreme anger and humiliation, "You have betrayed the favor of the Holy Light! You have desecrated His Holiness the Pope's trust! You will be eternally engulfed in holy flames..."

However, before he could finish hurling his curse, a sudden, unified neighing of horses came from the silver torrent that had just rushed out of the city amidst the dust and smoke.

Immediately afterward, under the astonished and uncertain gazes of the Papal Guard and the city gate guards, the massive formation of the Thirteenth Holy Knights came to a steady stop like a rock, and then smoothly turned their horses around on the spot!

The heavily armored knights silently faced the city gate once more, their cold lances and greatswords pointing at the holy city again, the chilling atmosphere even stronger than before!

Alfonso Lin sat astride his tall unicorn warhorse at the very front of the formation, his holy silver eyes piercing through the lingering dust like two cold searchlights, locking onto the bishop who was jumping up and down cursing beneath the city gate.

The guard captain's face, which had just turned red from shouting, instantly turned ashen white, as if an invisible hand had gripped his throat, leaving the rest of his curses stuck in his throat.

A tremendous fear gripped him.

What is Alfonso up to?! Is he planning a surprise attack?!

"Close...close the gate! Close the city gate quickly!" he screamed in terror, his voice trembling, as he scrambled backward. "Stop them! Don't let them in again! Hurry!"

The city gate guards were also stunned by this sudden turnback.

But seeing the terrified and cowardly appearance of the Papal Guard, and facing the silent and cold oppressive aura of the knights outside the city, their actions were noticeably slower.

Even with some hesitation, Captain Alfonso...should he stop him?

Just as the guards were being driven by their officers, frantically trying to push the heavy city gates shut.

Alfonso's emotionless voice pierced through the noise, echoing clearly inside and outside the city gates like a pronouncement of judgment:

"The Holy Knights serve only the Holy Light itself, not any particular Pope!"

His gaze seemed to pierce through the city walls, striking straight at the center of the holy city.

“Go back and tell Omadi XII. I will represent the Holy Light and watch over him from outside the Holy City.”

The moment he finished speaking, Alfonso yanked the reins hard.

"Hiss!"

His warhorse reared up and let out a loud neigh.

The sword in his hand drew a simple and powerful arc in the air, pointing away from the holy city.

"Boom—!"

The iron hooves once again shattered the earth. The Thirteenth Holy Knights showed no hesitation. Like a silver, furious dragon, they swept away, kicking up clouds of dust, and sped off towards the Misty Forest.

All that remained at the city gate was a deathly silence and billowing dust.

Only when the thunderous hoofbeats completely disappeared into the distance did the captain of the papal guard recover from the immense fear and humiliation.

He pushed away the men who tried to help him and staggered to the gap in the city gate that had just been laboriously closed.

Through the heavy door, he let out an even more hysterical roar in the direction the knights had disappeared, as if trying to shout back the courage that had been shattered by fear:

"Afonso Lin! You arrogant heretic! His Holiness the Pope is the sole representative of the Holy Light on earth! He is the embodiment of the Holy Light walking among men!"

"You have defied the Pope, which is to betray the Holy Light! You have blasphemed God! You and your henchmen will be thoroughly purified by the Holy Light, and your souls will be condemned to eternal hell!"

"Holy City! We will never forget your betrayal! Holy Light! We will surely bring down the harshest judgment!"

His curses echoed in the empty city gate, futilely venting his anger, but he could no longer touch the departing iron cavalry.

The guards stood silently to the side, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

As Alfonso said before, the Pope really doesn't have the right to directly define him as a traitor.

Everything depends on the court's verdict.

But no matter what, at least one thing they can be sure of is that the competition between the big shots in the Holy City is now out in the open!

...

On the pure white streets of the holy city of Jelamia, Mark's squad blended into the flow of devout believers.

Silently watching the resolute silver torrent of the Thirteenth Holy Knights sweep past the Papal Guard's obstruction, rush out of the city gates, and finally disappear into the distance after Alfonso's cold declaration, heading straight for the Misty Forest.

"Tsk, Alfonso is really something, not much less so than me."

Enzo, carrying his rune-forged hammer, his lava-like beard trembling slightly, muttered something under his breath, scoffing at the Papal Guard's earlier disarray and subsequent incompetent barking.

Eileen withdrew her gaze from the smoke and dust outside the city gate, her starry eyes calm and undisturbed: "He has his own path to walk. Our path lies within the city."

Her voice was cold and indifferent, as if the conflict just now was nothing more than dust on the roadside, not worth stopping to think about.

Alfonso's departure did not shake their goal of preventing the Enlightenment Society from gathering the five divine hearts.