The fierce wind blew, and the flag of the Holy Alliance fluttered once more.
So dazzling, so bright.
"Look, look—" Kaler's unpleasant voice, resembling a drake, resounded across the battlefield with the help of an amplification monk, "Our flag is raised!"
Kaler's throat-tearing cries momentarily suppressed the chaos of the battlefield.
The previously terrified soldiers raised their heads in surprise, looking towards the distant battle flag.
Under the flag, it wasn't the Saint's Grandson, but countless unfamiliar yet familiar faces wearing the Holy Alliance's uniforms.
"His Eminence is not here, it's up to us to protect our Holy Alliance, to protect our home!"
"His Eminence said, the Holy Alliance is yours, ours, everyone's!"
"This is our home, can't we protect our Holy Alliance?"
As the blood continued to flow from his severed arm, Volovitz also roared, "Advance, advance, pikes forward, move forward!"
"Advance, advance, raise our flag!"
