As the screen appeared in the middle of the square, every available camera immediately turned toward it. The display showed fifty different scenes at once, each one representing a separate battlefield across the United States. Every state had received a team of two paladins and five thousand ordinary soldiers, whose task was to defend the new city that would eventually be established there. Whether by coincidence or deliberate planning, every single group had landed near a stronghold involved in kidnapping people.
Most of the captives were Christians, though several ordinary civilians had also been taken. The scale of the operation made it clear that the corrupted humans had not limited themselves to targeting a single religion. They were gathering people wherever they could find them, treating human beings as little more than resources for their plans. Now, however, fifty different military forces had arrived almost simultaneously, and the kidnappers were about to discover that their operations were no longer safe.
As for how Gaia had been able to locate the corrupted strongholds despite being unable to directly identify which humans were corrupted, the answer was rather embarrassing for the corrupted humans. They were simply far too inexperienced when it came to hiding their activities from a planetary consciousness. Gaia could follow the threads of faith belonging to the people who had been captured and observe where those threads were being taken. Whenever she noticed something strange or unnatural about the movement of those connections, she could investigate the surrounding area.
By checking everyone near the location where a Christian had disappeared, Gaia could gradually narrow down the possible culprits. She could not directly see a label above someone's head declaring them to be corrupted, but she could identify suspicious patterns and monitor the people involved. Gaia fully expected the corrupted humans to eventually discover a way to interfere with this method. For now, however, she possessed a fairly long list of confirmed corrupted humans and was constantly monitoring them to see how they would react to the trouble the Christians were about to bring down upon them.
"These inhumane bastards should be executed," Meinrad said coldly.
"Tristan, you will deal with the strategy. I am going on a warpath."
With those words, Meinrad picked up his Zweihänder and charged toward the kidnappers' camp. The men inside the camp were not corrupted humans themselves, but ordinary criminals who had been ordered to capture as many Christians as possible. As far as they knew, they were simply being paid to perform a job, and they had never bothered to ask why their employers wanted so many people. Unfortunately for them, an extremely angry knight was now charging directly toward their camp, and he did not look particularly interested in negotiations.
The reason for Meinrad's anger was obvious to anyone who had seen what lay below the ridge. He and Tristan had been standing at the top of a ridgeline overlooking a bowl-shaped valley. Inside that valley, roughly one thousand people were chained together, their bodies thin and malnourished from prolonged mistreatment. Around them stood approximately three hundred heavily armed men, forming a perimeter around the captives.
At the center of the camp, a disgusting, fat-looking man was harassing a woman who was struggling desperately against him. She had tried to bite her own tongue, but the gag in her mouth had prevented her from doing so. Her clothes were torn, and her expression was filled with terror and despair. Seeing the scene from above was enough to make Meinrad's blood boil.
"Unhand her, you spawn of Satan!" Meinrad shouted.
He stormed down the ridgeline, his heavy armor making each step sound like a declaration of war. Tristan, meanwhile, turned away from the scene and began directing the soldiers positioned in the neighboring valley. The troops were waiting for orders and did not appear particularly worried, because they trusted that their commander knew what he was doing. What they did not know was that Meinrad would have to fight alone for at least five minutes before they could reach him and provide assistance.
"Tsk. Which great saint is getting in the way of my fun?" demanded the fat-looking commander as he noticed Meinrad approaching. From a distance, the heavily armored knight looked like nothing more than a large, fat sheep descending the slope toward them. The commander clearly did not understand the danger standing before him. Instead, he looked pleased at the unexpected arrival of a heavily armored target.
"Look alive, boys. We have fresh meat coming our way," the fat man announced. "We can sell that armor for a lot of money." His expression brightened at the thought of the profit they might gain from stripping the knight's equipment. To him, the approaching paladin was not a threat, but an opportunity to increase the gang's wealth.
"But boss, he looks rich. Can we afford to offend him?" asked the cowardly man standing to the commander's left. His voice carried a note of concern as he studied Meinrad's armor and the confidence with which he approached. Unlike his leader, he recognized that someone willing to charge directly into a camp of three hundred armed men might not be an ordinary fool.
"Good point," the fat commander replied, nodding thoughtfully. "Speak, you idiots with more morals than brains. Which force do you belong to, daring to interfere with the Black Wolf Gang?" His tone was confident, as though simply naming the organization would be enough to frighten Meinrad into stopping. The man had a state senator behind him, and that connection had convinced him that he could practically do whatever he wanted as long as he remained within his supposed boundaries.
The order to defend the cargo had come from the senator, after all. If the knight was killed while interfering with the gang's business, the commander believed the senator would deal with the consequences. In his mind, political protection made him untouchable. He had no idea that the man walking toward him was not someone who could be intimidated by the name of a criminal organization or the influence of a corrupt politician.
"Ha!" Meinrad laughed as he continued down the slope. "The Black Wolf Gang? You shall be the first spawn of Satan that I slay during my holy quest. Everyone standing behind you will follow you to hell soon afterward."
His voice echoed across the valley, drawing the attention of both the criminals and the captives. Meinrad finally reached the bottom of the slope and stood on stable ground before the camp. He straightened his posture, then looked directly toward the fat commander.
"Remember this name," he declared. "I am Meinrad Dünner, commander of the Paladin Order, which answers only to God and His mortal incarnation, the Pope, successor to Saint Peter."
He lowered his visor with a sharp metallic sound.
"Prepare to die!"
The fat commander stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. To him, Meinrad was nothing more than a delusional old fool wearing expensive armor. He waved one hand dismissively toward his men.
"Kill the old idiot."
The criminals began moving forward, confident that their numbers would overwhelm a single knight. None of them understood what they were about to face. The captives, however, had already begun to react differently. The moment Meinrad announced his name, several of the oldest Christians recognized it. They remembered stories of the legendary commander of the Swiss Guards, a man whose reputation had survived for decades.
The screen in Rome suddenly changed, focusing entirely on Meinrad's battlefield. The other fifty battles were not nearly as exciting, because the deployed soldiers and paladins greatly outnumbered and outmatched their opponents. Those engagements were practically guaranteed victories. Here, however, the situation was completely different.
It was three hundred criminals against one paladin.
"This is going to be great," Meinrad thought as he charged forward. "I probably won't get another chance for a battle like this anytime soon."
He threw himself into the battle without hesitation. His Zweihänder swept through the first group of enemies, cleaving three men straight in half with a single powerful motion. Before the remaining criminals could react, Meinrad grabbed another man and threw him directly into the path of several incoming magic missiles. The projectiles struck the unfortunate man and shredded him alive, causing chunks of flesh to explode across the battlefield.
For a moment, everyone froze.
Meinrad did not.
He continued moving without giving his opponents even a second to recover. His massive sword swung again and again, cutting through five more men before the rest of the criminals could properly understand what was happening. Their confidence vanished almost instantly. The man they had believed to be an old fool was moving through them like a natural disaster.
The criminals began slowly backing away in horror. Their fear increased when they heard a song coming from the armored knight. The sound was completely out of place amid the screams, the clashing of weapons, and the destruction spreading through their camp. It was not merely the sight of Meinrad cutting through their friends and family that frightened them. The calm song made him seem even more terrifying, as though he were not fighting for his life but simply performing a duty he had practiced countless times.
"Everything is going to be all right now, child," said an elderly grandmother as she pulled the traumatized woman into her arms. The woman's clothes were torn, and she was still shaking from what had happened. Nearby, the fat commander had wet himself and was unable to move, paralyzed by the fear Meinrad had instilled in him. The man who had been so confident only moments earlier could no longer even command his own body.
The elderly woman rocked the younger woman gently in her arms. Then she began to sing along with the armored knight. She did not know Meinrad personally, but she knew the song, and recognizing it filled her with a sense of safety she had not felt in a long time. Her voice was weak at first, but it slowly grew stronger as she continued.
"In red, gold, and blue, we march proud and strong.
With halberds in hand, we shall march along.
The Pope and Rome we will guard night and day.
With faith in our hearts, we shall not betray."
As she sang, the other captives began joining her. One by one, the voices spread through the valley, rising above the sounds of battle. The frightened and malnourished Christians found courage in the familiar song, and their fear slowly began to transform into hope. They cheered for the armored figure fighting in their name, even though most of them had never seen him before.
They would never forget him.
To them, Meinrad Dünner was no longer simply an old knight who had arrived at the last possible moment. He had become the knight in shining armor who had descended into their prison, challenged an entire army of criminals, and begun cutting his way toward their freedom while singing an old song of faith.