The darkness waned, leaving only pain and confusion for the Tirol Kingdom.
The Dark Race could leave, but the Secondary Dark Race couldn’t, because they had another na—traitors.
They might all have had their reasons, but that didn’t matter.
As the day of return drew closer, the struggle was no longer a petty squabble between nations, but a life-and-death struggle between races.
Any cri might be pardoned, except for betrayal.
Although Sofia was sowhat extre, Roland still accepted her suggestion.
After all, this was one of the rare occasions Sofia and Christine agreed on.
Christine not only suggested executing all the traitors but also volunteered to carry out the executions herself.
Thinking about these people tied to the pyres, consud by the Holy Fla, Roland inexplicably felt a chill down his spine.
Christine, taking charge of dealing with the traitors, certainly had her own agenda.
After this upheaval, the Tirolean people’s hatred of the darkness would reach its peak.
In the concert hall incident, her steadfast suppression of the darkness would undoubtedly make her the hero in the hearts of the Tiroleans. As long as the trading of light was appropriately promoted, the Goddess’s glory would bathe this city ravaged by darkness.
She had two more things to implent imdiately.
The first was the purification of the Secondary Dark Race. The pyres were already being made overnight. No one ant for the pyres would escape.
The second was to visit the injured masses and artists from the concert hall incident; winning people’s hearts was a basic skill of the clergy, and Christine naturally wouldn’t neglect it.
In short, she was very pleased with the outco of this action, with only one small regret.
Roland seed not too concerned about dealing with the Secondary Dark Race, even having thoughts of recruiting so of them, which puzzled her.
Could these scum, tainted by darkness, really have any use?
This was her and Roland’s biggest disagreent.
Roland prioritized benefits over stances and could even accept people changing sides.
Christine could never accept these human traitors defiled by darkness.
With so resentnt, Christine personally presided over this purification barbecue ceremony.
In front of the concert hall ruins, the solemn, commanding voice of the judge representing light echoed over the square, unable to settle for a long ti.
The judge had no hesitation in condemning these people to an everlasting unredeemable fate and sending them to the pyres.
As Christine threw down the first torch, the pyres flared up one by one.
Amidst the burning of the holy flas, the Secondary Dark Races let out tornted wails.
Their agony would inevitably be much heavier than that of ordinary sufferers.
Christine prepared the Holy Water, constantly sustaining their lives, then continued the burning.
The first to be judged on the pyres was Marshal of the Army Mattson, with an outstanding physique, weighing over two hundred pounds. His thick fat gave him imnse strength on the battlefield, making him both an excellent Commander in Chief and a warrior capable of facing a hundred n alone.
These thick fats usually provided ample energy and cushioning, a hallmark of might in the era of cold weapons.
However, in this barbecue feast, this fat beca the source of his misery.
He scread miserably for three full hours without dying.
Christine continually healed him, keeping his last breath.
The Holy Water was abundant, so was the pain.
This was Christine’s attitude towards the Dark Creatures.
She wanted to intimidate those who opposed her in this manner, to show them whom they were dealing with.
The wails from the other pyres lasted no more than about an hour; only Mattson suffered continuously.
When the Holy Fla first ignited, the onlooking crowd cheered loudly, excited that the murder of their loved ones had been avenged.
The traitors’ screams beca their greatest comfort.
To their ears, these screams were more pleasing than the concert performances.
But after half an hour, the mindset of those watching began to shift.
Was the execution not over yet?
They might have been deeply sinful, but the death penalty should suffice to offset their cris, that should be enough.
Killing criminals is just, but is prolonged torture?
So fell into contemplation, so couldn’t bear to continue watching, but no one dared to step forward to intervene.
Christine exuded a holy light, dignified like the descent of a Goddess.
As long as the Goddess hadn’t descended to the mortal world, her behavior as the Goddess’s envoy represented the light.
Who would dare oppose divine punishnt?
Just as Christine kept dousing Mattson with Holy Water, finally, soone couldn’t stand it anymore.
Roland appeared from nowhere, pressing Christine’s hand.
"That’s enough, let him be freed," he said softly.
"Is that an order, my Liege?" Christine asked, lowering her voice.
In theory, she was indeed Roland’s vassal, but Roland was also her vassal.
They were conjoined sovereign and subordinate.
If Roland ordered her as her liege, she would naturally obey, albeit...
"Can I make a suggestion as a friend?" Roland looked at Christine’s fervent gaze, feeling slightly troubled.
He was never good at dealing with won, especially fanatical female clergy.
If Christine insisted, he probably wouldn’t persist.
Looking at Roland’s complex gaze, Christine was only silent for a mont before picking up the Long Spear beside her and throwing it out.
The spearhead pierced Mattson’s heart accurately, ending his suffering.
"Okay."
Her voice was exceptionally gentle, the fervor in her gaze gradually dissipating.
Roland had an illusion that at that mont, Christine seed to return to the naive candidate Saintess when they first t.
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