This result did not surprise him. Although Claude, the commander of the 10th Regiment, did not appear directly on the list in Ellen's chain of evidence.
However, the financial transactions and unusual transfers of several key figures under his command have already pointed to some ominous possibility.
His absence at this moment is almost tantamount to admitting guilt without being asked.
Of course, it's actually better if Claude isn't there!
Because this arrangement was never intended for Claude, he knew that Claude harbored resentment towards him and would never accept his order to mobilize the legions.
It is simply impossible to keep the war on the border of the Lor Swamp going year after year with just Claude's Tenth Holy Knights!
His purpose this time was to determine just how many people in the army in the Lor Swamp were acting out of self-interest!
"knew."
Alfonso's voice remained steady, without the slightest fluctuation, but the surrounding air seemed to grow even colder.
The adjutant gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his eyes flashing with cold light.
“Messenger!” Alfonso said in a deep voice.
A knight clad in light armor with special runes, whose aura blended almost seamlessly with the environment, silently stepped forward.
"Activate 'Holy Light Message' and notify Recorder Elliott." Alfonso's voice carried an undeniable penetrating force. "The instructions are as follows: 'The main orc force has moved; the encirclement has begun. The 10th Regiment is absent; there is a gap in the southeast. Lure the enemy towards the area between the 9th and 11th Knights, prioritizing a move towards the 9th Regiment!'"
"Yes! In the name of the Holy Light!"
The messenger pounded his chest with his right fist and closed his eyes to concentrate.
A barely perceptible holy light runestone on his chest shone, and an invisible message woven from pure holy light instantly traversed the distance of space, shooting towards the depths of the Blackwater Shore, where the recorder was leading the Gray Falcon Squad in a desperate escape through the swamp.
...
The icy black water and putrid sludge nearly exhausted every member of the Grey Falcon Squad.
After a full day of desperate fleeing, guided by Elliott's almost ruthless tactics, they dared to narrowly avoid the orcs' roaring encirclement, like fish swimming in a swamp.
The sound of war drums and the roars of orcs behind them grew clearer and clearer, like maggots clinging to their bones. Each heavy drumbeat struck like a blow to the taut strings of their hearts, and the shadow of death relentlessly pursued them.
Just as despair was about to crush the youngest members of the Holy City, at the edge of the gray-green mist ahead, on a slightly higher slope, the outline of a flag suddenly pierced through the gloom!
The design of the flag was extremely familiar.
The emblem of the Holy Knights stubbornly radiated a holy light in the dim daylight, like a lighthouse piercing the darkness!
"It's...it's the flag of the Knights!"
Ron, with his round face, was the first to cry out. His voice was hoarse and trembling with sobs, a result of extreme exhaustion and sudden elation.
The fear and oppression brought about by the relentless pursuit of the orc army instantly found an outlet.
"The Ninth Holy Knights! It's the banner of Grand Master Harrington!"
Darren was so excited that he trembled all over, and the paleness of his escape instantly faded from his face, replaced by a blush of ecstasy.
He seemed to see a glimmer of hope for life, and a solid support for himself.
"We're saved! Captain Kyle! We're saved!"
Almost without thinking, he charged towards the flag that symbolized protection and power with his last ounce of strength, as if he would be swallowed up by the horde of beasts behind him if he hesitated even a step too long.
Emilia and several other young people from the Holy City were also greatly encouraged, their eyes blazing with a strong will to survive, and they instinctively wanted to follow Darren's footsteps and rush over to seek shelter.
The banner of the Knights of Holy Light is a symbol of absolute power and safety, as taught to them from a young age.
However, a sudden change occurred!
Just as Darren had rushed out a dozen or so steps, and had just entered the edge of that relatively dry highland—
A blinding arrow, imbued with pure holy light energy, shot out without warning from the direction of the Ninth Knights' formation, like a scythe of death tearing through the mist!
The target was precise and ruthless, aimed directly at Darren's unprotected brow!
The light arrow was incredibly fast, carrying a chilling killing intent. It was not a warning or a misfire, but a blatant attempt to silence the witness!
"Darren!!"
The ecstasy on Ron and Emilia's faces froze instantly, turning into extreme terror, and they screamed incoherently.
At the critical moment!
"Shield of the Gods!" Kyle's calm, rock-solid voice boomed behind Darren, accompanied by his lightning-fast raising of his right hand.
A thick, solid, and tangible golden light shield instantly opened half a foot above Darren's head, with holy light runes flowing endlessly!
"Swoosh—Bang!"
The light arrow slammed into the shield of holy light, unleashing a blinding white light and a powerful energy shock!
The Holy Shield trembled violently, its aura dimmed by more than half in an instant, and even spiderweb-like cracks appeared on its surface!
The immense impact slammed Darren, who was charging forward, to the ground. He rolled haphazardly in the mud, his face drained of color, filled only with the bewilderment of surviving a near-death experience and a deep-seated fear.
The lingering heat of the holy light between his brows reminded him that he had just been one step away from death.
The entire Grey Falcon squad froze.
Rick, Jim, and old Carl, these seasoned veterans who had spent years navigating the lower rungs of society, showed no surprise on their faces, only cold understanding and deep mockery.
Scarface Rick even grinned and silently spat.
Internal strife within the church? Backstabbing?
For them, this is just the norm in this shitty world.
Under the banner of the Holy Light, it is not just the blood of heretics that flows.
The apprentice knights, including Oak, gripped their weapons tightly, their faces ashen, their eyes filled with anger and coldness at being betrayed.
They finally realized that in the eyes of those big shots, these "little people" were probably not even pawns and could be sacrificed at any time.
Ruby's eyes blazed with fury; as a fiery nun, she felt she wanted to transform into a seraph of judgment and smash the person opposite her to pieces with her flails.
Emilia covered her mouth in horror, tears welling in her eyes, completely unable to understand why "their own people" would kill them so cruelly.
"Why?!" Ron looked at Darren, who had fallen to the ground, still shaken, then at the Knights' banner that still fluttered but now seemed incredibly ironic. His voice was filled with grievance, anger, and incomprehensible pain. "Aren't we...aren't we on our own? Commander Harrington, he..."
"Shut up! You idiot!"
Elliott's cold, flat voice, like a blade chilled to ice, instantly severed Ron's questioning and all his chaotic emotions.
He offered no explanation, not even glancing at the flag, as if the fatal blow had been nothing more than a speck of dust.
His sharp gaze swept across the surrounding terrain, quickly locking onto a new path, and he commanded in an unquestionable tone:
"Turn! Northeast, 11 o'clock! Enter that twisted, deadwood forest ahead! Move quickly! Drop all unnecessary weights and keep up!"
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