Scattered light seeped out from the void, congealing into a not-quite-real phantom, its face adorned with a bizarre mask whose mouth was stretched to its ears and eyes tightly shut.
It was Lady "Greed," a member of the Psychology Alchemists' Council of Review responsible for Saint Millon, the capital of Feynapotter!
Even though what remained on the airship was merely a virtual persona, being gazed upon by an Angel still made "Greed" feel a bone-chilling coldness. She carefully weighed her words before speaking slowly:
"Hvin Rambis, who was originally responsible for the Backlund region, suddenly died violently some time ago. I haven't yet contacted his successor, the new Council of Review member. It is indeed our problem that there was an oversight in intelligence."
Snorting, Awatoma Einhorn disdained to argue with this Manipulator who didn't even dare to reveal her true body. He warned with a majestic voice:
"Tell Pauli Derlau that we have a common goal."
"Hedging your bets in this situation would be a foolish choice. I do not wish for any more underhanded tricks to occur!"
"Greed's" figure rippled like a wave, and she bowed slightly:
"I will convey your words to the President...."
The slightly ethereal, gentle voice gradually dissipated, and this virtual persona once again disintegrated into specks of light, merging into the surrounding collective unconscious sea.
Awatoma Einhorn turned slightly, looking at Pritz Harbor, which was engulfed in flames with only sporadic artillery fire in return, his eyes cold.
There was only one chance for a surprise victory. The reason for choosing Pritz Harbor was to completely destroy Loen's largest port and shipyard on the eastern coast, as well as the Loen ironclad fleet docked within it.
If successful, even with the help of the Church of the Lord of Storms, Feysac would be able to completely suppress Loen in the Sonia Sea and the Berserk Sea in the early stages of the war, and even cut off the shipping routes to the Southern Continent colonies.
Such a quick reaction, what a pity.... Awatoma Einhorn reined in his thoughts, his eyes, flickering with silver-white electric arcs, looked towards the Berserk Sea.
Using the hidden connection between the Weather Warlock and the entire fleet, he directly transmitted his will to Egor Einhorn, who was below the airship and on the flagship of the Sonia Sea fleet:
"Change the original plan. Stop bombarding Backlund and continue south to attack coastal ports."
"This war will be your best opportunity to become a War Bishop!"
Even as a seasoned Iron-Blooded Knight, Egor's breathing hitched for a moment. Without the slightest hesitation, and without even asking for the reason, he immediately stopped the bombardment and retreated south.
Awatoma Einhorn, on the airship, manipulated a mist to envelop the Sonia Fleet as it detached from the Pritz Harbor coast. His figure flickered, appearing above Pritz Harbor.
As a Sequence 2 Weather Warlock, with a worldwide response, as long as a special hidden connection was established with Him, even if there was some attenuation after leaving this battlefield, the power of the entire fleet could still be mobilized.
A dense aura of iron and blood emanated, and the smoke and flames that covered most of the harbor instantly gathered, congealing into crimson long spears, emitting a terrifying aura.
Looking at Backlund, whose outlines could be vaguely seen not far away, Awatoma Einhorn's lips curled into a cold arc, and he manipulated those flaming long spears to rush towards that "Capital of Capitals"!
"Bastard!"
An angry roar came from behind. The originally azure sea had long turned deep, with dark black waves nearly ten meters high surging.
Silver-white electric snakes shot out of thin air, carrying a strong, almost tangible, tyrannical and destructive aura, densely striking Pritz Harbor, engulfing the sky above the port area in a forest of thunder.
Most of the flaming long spears shattered and evaporated, dissipating in the storm, but there were still some stragglers.
Watching the dazzling firelight bloom in Backlund, the tornado giant, which shot up into the sky and stirred up a tsunami, quickly dispersed the mist and dark clouds covering Pritz Harbor. Aside from a crashed airship, the culprit was nowhere to be seen.
The lightning storm gradually subsided. Pope Gaard II, the current Pope of the Church of the Lord of Storms, wearing a triple crown inlaid with sapphires, emeralds, and other gems, and dressed in a dark blue, almost black, robe, rode the strong winds, his expression terribly gloomy.
As a high-ranking individual who had presided over the Privy Council for nearly a century, and who had always adhered to the principle of treating enemies with storm-like cruelty and immediately venting any anger, He felt an extreme rage at this feeling of punching cotton.
Several Cardinal Bishops of the Church of the Lord of Storms who had remained at the headquarters had already gone to the Loen Strait coast to guard key cities along the long coastline, to prevent the Feysac Strait Fleet from the opposite shore. Coupled with Pritz Harbor being deep within Loen territory, He had agreed to hand over the defense to the Loen military.
"It's just a tragic act to gain sympathy...."
An undisguised sneer sounded. Aaron's figure emerged from the mists of history, glanced at the ruined Pritz Harbor and the smoking Backlund in the distance, and added with a sneer:
"However, this does give the Royal Family an opportunity to unite all strata of Loen in a common hatred."
A port so close to Backlund didn't even have a demigod from MI9. The organized ironclad fleet was completely unharmed, yet the residents living in Pritz Harbor became the bargaining chip to incite public outrage.
His gloomy expression gradually receded. Gaard II nodded slightly towards Aaron, who was clearly just a historical projection:
"I will demand an explanation from the Augustus family!"
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South of the Bridge, Backlund, Rose Street, Harvest Church.
Several consecutive explosions broke the quiet of the prayer hall. Emlyn White, who was only a Beyonder characteristic away from becoming a noble Sanguine Viscount, paused, stopping his action of wiping the candlestick, and looked at the agitated crowd on the street with a bewildered expression.
Wounded people were constantly being sent into Harvest Church. Emlyn White, who had experienced the Great Smog, didn't bother to delve into the reason and cooperated with Father Utravsky to treat these believers.
It wasn't until the afternoon that Emlyn White, who had gone out to purchase medicine, bought a copy of the "Backlund Daily" from a newsboy, the paper still warm.
"Extra! Extra! The Kingdom declares war on Feysac!"
Looking at the bolded, top-placed headline, his expression instantly froze. After several seconds, he suddenly quickened his pace, suppressing the urge to summon bat wings, and rushed back to Harvest Church.
Father Utravsky was not in the prayer hall. After comforting the injured believers, Emlyn White went to the secret room deep within the church and finally found the Giant Bishop kneeling before the Holy Emblem of Life.
"Father, the Kingdom has declared war on Feysac!" Handing over the newspaper, Emlyn White quickly summarized its contents:
"The Strait and the Amantha Mountains are already at war. Pritz Harbor has even been destroyed, and the colonies in the Southern Continent don't know the news yet!"