As the song bellowed above the ridgeline, Tristan knew that it was time to move. "Well, you heard the good people. They are asking for our help," he said as he joined the singing. He drew his sword, equipped his enormous shield, and began marching over the hill. Behind him, all the soldiers followed in perfect step, their halberds held upright as they advanced in disciplined marching formations.
The soldiers crossed the ridgeline in a formation ten men wide. Their movements were orderly and precise, showing the level of training that the Church had invested in them. While the people trapped inside the crater were malnourished, exhausted, and barely able to stand, these soldiers represented the best the Church had to offer. They were physically fit, well-equipped, and prepared for battle, and their voices rang loudly through the open air as they continued singing.
The sight of them was enough to break whatever courage the bandits had left. Their armor was far beyond anything the criminals could ever afford, while the halberds they carried looked like genuine instruments of war rather than improvised weapons. The criminals had already watched one knight cut down approximately one hundred of their comrades in what seemed like only two minutes. Now another heavily armored warrior had appeared, followed by an untold number of professional soldiers marching in perfect formation.
Some of the bandits immediately turned and fled. Others began crying where they stood, unable to process the sheer difference in power between themselves and the approaching army. A few dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender, realizing that continuing to fight would be nothing more than suicide. The Black Wolf Gang's confidence had vanished completely, replaced by panic and desperate attempts to survive.
"Good. Let them flee. They shall spread our tales," thought Meinrad as he walked past the fat commander. The man who had been so arrogant only moments earlier had already fainted from fright, leaving a suspiciously wet spot near his crotch. Meinrad did not spare him more than a brief glance. The commander's fate was no longer important compared with the people who had been held captive in the valley.
Meinrad then approached the young woman who was being calmed by the older-looking woman. He knelt down before them, making certain that his enormous armored body would not frighten them any further. Then he planted his massive sword into the dirt beside him and removed his cape. With a careful motion, he draped it over the young woman's body so that no one could see her naked form anymore.
He was glad to do it, even if only because the cape itself annoyed him. Meinrad hated wearing it because it constantly got in the way during combat, especially when he was moving quickly or swinging his sword. Unfortunately, the Pope had insisted that he wear it because he needed to look the part of the commander of the paladin order. Apparently, being the strongest fighter in the Church was not enough. He also had to look like the image people expected when they imagined a holy knight.
Despite his irritation with the cape, Meinrad made sure it covered the young woman properly. The woman was still trembling, and the older Christian continued holding her close while whispering comforting words. Around them, the other captives were beginning to realize that the battle was over. The criminals were fleeing, surrendering, or lying motionless on the ground, and for the first time in a long while, the prisoners could believe that they were actually going to be safe.
Meanwhile, Pope Urban IX watched the scene on the screen with a suppressed smile. He could not openly smile during such a serious and dangerous military operation, especially while addressing the world as the leader of the Church. Still, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to hide his satisfaction. The entire world had witnessed what had just happened, and the event had unfolded in a way that was almost too perfect for the Church.
The scene had begun with the clergy joining in the song Meinrad was singing. At first, the song had only been heard around the battlefield and within the Vatican's broadcast. However, reports were already reaching Urban that people all over the world had begun singing along. Many had found the sight so shocking and barbaric that they had reacted emotionally, while others had been moved by the image of a heavily armored knight charging into a criminal camp while singing a holy marching song.
The contrast had made the scene unforgettable. Meinrad had appeared like the perfect image of a legendary paladin, descending upon criminals who had abused helpless people. He had not only defeated them, but had done so while surrounded by a song associated with the Church's defenders. Urban knew that the image would spread rapidly, regardless of whether people supported the Church or opposed it.
The best part, from Urban's perspective, was that he was unlikely to receive much criticism for violating American law. If the first person who attempted to prosecute Meinrad was brought before the public, that individual would likely be drowned in public outrage. The image of a corrupt American official attempting to punish a holy knight for rescuing kidnapped people was simply too politically damaging. Meinrad looked exactly like what people expected a legendary paladin to look like, and that appearance alone would make him difficult to attack.
However, if anyone asked Gaia who was laughing the hardest at the entire situation, the answer would have been Gaia herself. She had a global overview of the cultural energy being generated by the event, and she had been watching the numbers rise ever since the bells began ringing. The bells had already caused a dramatic increase in cultural energy, but when the people began singing together, the amount multiplied by ten.
Gaia was extremely pleased by the sudden surge. The energy being generated was far greater than what ordinary daily life produced, and the event had managed to draw the attention and emotions of people across the entire planet. The Church had accidentally created a cultural event of enormous scale. Even people who were not Christians were watching, reacting, discussing, or emotionally responding to what they were seeing.
At the same time, Gaia felt slightly sad because she knew that an event like this could not simply be repeated every day. Under normal circumstances, humans generated a small amount of cultural energy through their free will and participation in human civilization. Every person contributed simply by living, working, interacting, and making decisions within society. However, when people devoted additional effort, emotion, and attention to something that affected their civilization or culture, the amount of energy they generated increased.
A cultural event amplified that effect even further. People were not merely existing; they were actively participating in something together. They were singing, praying, watching, cheering, fearing, and hoping as a collective. What had happened in Rome and across the battlefield was not just a military operation anymore. It had become a moment that would almost certainly be written into history, and because of that, the amount of cultural energy being generated was enormous.
Yet the greatest benefits of the event were not actually coming from the ordinary people. They were coming from the corrupted humans Gaia had been monitoring. The moment Meinrad's attack began attracting worldwide attention, the corrupted humans started contacting one another and their superiors. Their carefully arranged operations had suddenly become exposed, and many of them were scrambling to determine what they should do next.
Among those making calls was the Texas state senator who had been supporting the criminal organization. He was contacting his superior for instructions, clearly aware that the situation had become much more dangerous than expected. Gaia was deeply disappointed when she realized that he was a high-ranking member of Congress. One of the five largest nations in the world was this corrupt, and the discovery reinforced how deeply the Void had already influenced powerful people.
It did not surprise her entirely, however. Many people were willing to join the Void because it promised rapid increases in strength and longer lifespans. Greedy humans often failed to recognize the trap because they were too focused on the immediate benefits. They saw the Void as a shortcut toward power, not realizing that the price of accepting its influence was far more terrible than they understood.
Gaia could understand why some people were tempted. Many of the powerful individuals who joined the Void were already morally corrupt before making the decision. Their lack of talent, combined with their desire for power, made the Void's promises especially attractive. They were people who wanted strength without earning it and longevity without accepting the limitations of their own bodies. Still, understanding their motivations did not make their choices acceptable.
She wished she could help the less fortunate, but that was not truly an option. Gaia could influence the world and support humanity, but she could not simply change the human race into something else. There were plenty of people who were less talented than the corrupted politicians and still remained ordinary, decent humans. The difference was that these politicians had encountered genuine monsters and had chosen to side with them rather than endure their own limitations.
Families such as the Sonnenbergs were extreme outliers on the human spectrum of talent. Many members of that family were already preparing to become adults in the eyes of the System, while countless ordinary humans were still struggling to reach a racial stage of 0.6. The difference between them was not simply effort. Talent, sensitivity, free will, and the way someone used their abilities all played enormous roles in determining progression.
Free will influenced how much mana a person could capture, but it also influenced how efficiently they captured it. Someone could use their free will like a surgical knife, carefully stripping away the attributes they needed and refining their cultivation with precision. Another person could use it like a hammer, forcing mana into themselves in a crude way that damaged their progress and created unnecessary obstacles.
Sensitivity to different mana attributes also played a major role. A person with poor sensitivity might struggle to purify their mana, while someone with exceptional sensitivity could naturally gather and refine energy far more effectively. There were countless factors that could prevent a human from reaching their full potential. Even people who worked hard and remained disciplined could find themselves limited by circumstances they could not control.
Because of that, Gaia could not completely blame the politicians for being less talented than the Sonnenbergs or other exceptional families. She understood that not everyone had been born with the same opportunities or abilities. However, they had still chosen to join the Void, and that was something she could not forgive. They had willingly accepted corruption and participated in the conversion process, despite knowing that void energy was the antithesis of life.
Quite a few humans would not survive the conversion at all. The process itself was dangerous, and those who underwent it were effectively condemning themselves to death if their bodies could not withstand the transformation. For Gaia, that made their decision even more unacceptable. They had not merely endangered themselves. They had endangered others and willingly chosen a path that could destroy countless lives.
So, although she could understand the reasons behind their decisions, she could not excuse them. They had crossed a line that could not be ignored. And when Gaia finally rang in the net, those corrupted humans would have to face the consequences of the choices they had made.