Chapter 962: Chapter 543: Mendicant Monk—Martin the Martyr (Part 2)
The gentle glow descended like a curtain upon the militia, rejuvenating their weary bodies, and their wounds began to heal...
The same divine arts, one as a point of light, another as an entire expanse, even with the aid of a holy relic, Junia couldn’t achieve such a formidable power.
Yet, with a casual gesture, the trembling, elderly frame of the mendicant monk could cover such a range; his strength had transcended the ordinary and had likely reached the legendary realm!
The appearance of the Holy Light not only healed most of the injured militia but also terrified the fishmen, the deterrence even stronger than the gunshots earlier.
Suddenly, their organized attack was disrupted, and at that moment, the veterans took the opportunity to command the militia to advance, not to counterattack but to drag back those who could still be saved.
Blood and broken limbs were strewn across the shore, while the remaining militia retreated with the wounded in such an environment.
Even though the town’s trained medical personnel were mostly taken away by the Lord, Hamlet did not abandon this option.
"Advance, advance!"
"Save them! Quickly, save them!"
"Where’s the doctor?"
"Drag them to the back first..."
At this moment, the mendicant monk cast a second divine arts, the light shining on the wounded once more exerting formidable power.
With two treatments, the lightly injured were directly healed, and even the severely injured were out of life-threatening danger, with some even able to stand by themselves.
In an instant, morale surged, and it was no wonder the church could become one of the top extraordinary forces on the continent; the effects of this move were simply absurd.
Even the two observing from the ship couldn’t help but exclaim.
"Yes! Why didn’t I think of that~" Sela no longer wore that uneasy look, instead somewhat excited, seemingly understanding why Amanda was so calm.
"The ones the church sent here despise these aberrant demons the most; they’ll certainly take action. With them here, these monsters are doomed, and we won’t die."
While other extraordinary forces of the empire could only survive under the suppression of the church, the Romani had also been oppressed quite a bit.
But at this moment, it’s still the church’s people who are reliable!
Amanda also mumbled to herself upon hearing, she didn’t mean these, but she couldn’t help but recall how Sela’s data to her covered most situations, except it only listed the names of these two church members, clearly dreading something.
Even with her reaction, out of curiosity, she pursued and asked.
"What’s the story behind this mendicant monk?"
"He’s the church’s legendary—Martyr Martin." Sela didn’t pay much attention at the time, eyes on the battle ahead, briefly introducing the origins of the mendicant monk.
Aside from the lower-level believers, everyone knew about the church’s luxurious corruption, and Martin was one of the most devout believers who saw this as a state of corruption and decadence.
As a young man, Martin joined the Begging Friars’ Order, practicing the vow of poverty and becoming a mendicant monk, a type of ascetic.
The mendicant monk advocated going to impoverished places to preach, so he was more aware of the church’s situation’s danger than those clergy who spent a lifetime barely leaving the monastery.
But he did not possess enough influence, and the church’s decay worsened with time.
To change this situation, Martin did something terrifying, he actually self-immolated in the church, throwing himself into the flames, wanting to martyr to awaken the clergy.
But bizarrely, he was not burned to death; instead, he erupted with immense power within the flames, claiming to have received divine revelation, then began propagating his beliefs.
Because of the miracle, Martin’s martyrdom story spread widely, having a significant impact within the church. Indeed, relying on his own power, though claiming reversal might be an overstatement, he did moderate the church’s lavish corruption; those people were wary of the martyr’s reputation and began to show restraint.
"There are many legendary stories of the martyr, and for that Candlelight Priest to be by his side, he must also be a champion," Sela seemed very confident in both, after all, they were legendary figures.
Amanda was quite impressed listening to this rather legendary story but couldn’t understand the act of self-immolation.
In her view, it seemed more like Martin was using this act to make a name, otherwise, if he was really that powerful, why had his skin been burned?
But none of that mattered now, on the battlefield, the fishmen seemed to receive some guidance, their earlier panic quickly calming down.
The mendicant monk’s power also attracted the fishmen’s attention, seemingly holding immense hatred towards the Holy Light, launching a frenzied attack on the two.
Ordinary people would have panicked, but the church’s priests were not those who merely donned revealing outfits and recited prayers.
In contrast, looking at his robust physique, clad in heavy armor full of battle scars, with a warhammer engraved with holy patterns in his left hand, and fierce eyes underneath a hooded face filled with scars, it was evident he was quite a ruthless character.
As Sela said, being able to stay by Martin’s legendary side, how could his strength be lacking?
"Holy Light!"
The Candlelight Priest roared, lifting the great shield with his right hand, and the flickering candle flame instantly burst into a brilliant glow.
Blinding flash!
The monk’s earlier glow shone on the militia, being gentler, not directly harming the fishmen.
In contrast, the Candlelight Priest’s light seemed like a flashbang, and the brilliance from the candlelight was aimed right at them; Fishmen had no eyelids, unable even to blink instinctually.
Moreover, having lived in lightless depths, this light blinded and drove the charging fishmen into madness.
But that wasn’t enough...
"The Holy Light tolerates no such vile creatures!"
Fanatical faith made the priest utterly loathe these inhuman aberrant demons, and the power condensed by this strong will made the hammer in his hand emit a white glow at night.
Without any pause, he swung the warhammer down upon the approaching fishmen.
Hammer of Faith!
Pious faith transformed into power, with faith-imbued warhammers striking the fishmen, scales shattering, entire bodies even flying back.
The wounds ignited with flames, leaving marks like those from branding irons after.
Each strike meant one less fishman, and despite crashing like waves upon rocks, they couldn’t move the Candlelight Priest, instead being scattered instantly.
But one person’s defense was limited, the fishmen weren’t mindless beasts, understanding to entangle one part, while others circled to target the monk with knife-edged spear fish guns.
But when it came to faith, the mendicant monk was even more fanatical than the Candlelight Priest, lifting his drooped head, frenzied eyes barely concealed under his grim visage.
"Monsters! Burn in the Holy Light!"
With a shout, the monk slightly raised his magic wand, a bright beam shot like lightning, and in a moment, the fishman struck was instantly laid flat.
As if struck by lightning, its body like charred coal, smoke still curling from it.
Yet more terrifying was this move feeding back power to the monk, enabling him to unleash the next strike, each flash representing another fishman being roasted.
The fishmen probably couldn’t conceive that this old man, who trembled even in a sea breeze, could be so ferocious.
But the fishmen knew no fear and were numerous, high single-target damage couldn’t stop them, especially as elite fishmen rapidly closed in, exploiting chances to swing sword and blade.
As long as one strike landed, they were confident of killing this enemy.
Faced with blades bearing down, the mendicant monk showed no intention to resist, continuously triggering the flashes.
But at this moment, the Candlelight Priest, tangled with the fishmen, came rushing back, lifting the great shield in his right hand, revealing a pattern crafted by a bluish spiritual essence, clearly indicating the shield possessed supernatural power.
Knight’s Oath!
The protection ritual linked the two, the mysterious power protecting the mendicant monk; nothing is more crucial to a spellcaster than this.
