Chapter 468: Moral crisis

Solenne’s words cast a shadow of dismay across the bishop’s face, but he brushed it away in the blink of an eye. In its place returned that gentle, saintly expression, as if he had no idea she was speaking of him.

The two had already reached the cathedral’s exit, where a long marble path stretched out toward a beautiful garden.

The scent of roses and damp earth drifted up to meet them, carried on the cool morning breeze.

The bishop’s eyes settled on the flowers, and he let out a heavy, weary sigh.

"Indeed... the Church has been suffering a grievous moral crisis these past years. Once I set foot in the Holy City again, I shall lay these matters before His Holiness the Pope myself. But for now..."

He turned to Solenne, his wrinkled hands tightening around his staff.

"A letter from the Holy City arrived ahead of you. It spoke of a vision granted to you. A great evil and a vile heresy spreading through the Eternal Forest, already pressing against the borders of the Kingdom of the Burning Ice."

"It is true." Solenne nodded. Her hand rested on the hilt of the sword at her waist, and her gaze, like his, fell upon the garden, though it carried no warmth at all.

"I saw a rose and a veil of gold. I saw blue eyes and an arrogant blade. And beside them, the fangs of a blood-drinking creature with eyes of red."

The old bishop remained silent until the final words.

Then his eyes went wide, and a tremor rippled through his entire body, from his shoulders down to the fingers clutching the staff.

"The fangs of a blood-drinker... and red eyes..." His left hand crept up to his neck, almost without his realizing it. "Tell me, child. Was she a woman with golden hair? The Vampire Empress?"

The scar was still there, and he still remembered the pain—the sensation of that woman tearing his throat open with her bare hands, the warm blood trickling down his collar as the world went dark.

For a moment, his murderous intent seeped out of him, heavy and cold, and the air in the garden grew chillier still.

Solenne kept her gaze frigid, studying every wrinkle on that old face.

"I believe so," she replied.

"Ah... by the Nine, and by Justiciar, the God-King..." The old man gasped, clutching his neck a moment longer before his hand finally fell away.

"I know who the rose and the veil of gold are," he said, resuming his walk through the garden, his slow steps echoing on the marble.

Solenne followed close behind, the metal of her sword clinking softly with each stride.

"Ethan Goldenveil... I already have spies within his capital. They deny the worship of the Nine and bow to only three: Life, Death, and Beauty.

The sanctity of the God-King is not recognized by those heretics, and to worship any god beyond their three, or beyond the Goldenveil family itself, is treated as a crime."

The old man waved a hand, and the staff vanished into thin air, leaving not even a glimmer behind.

He clasped his hands behind his back and walked in silence for a few moments, his gaze lost among the flowers.

"Loathsome heretics, dwelling among elves and dwarves. Filth, all of them. I had already been pondering how best to rid the world of them, but now that you are here, such concerns are no longer necessary." He turned to Solenne, and a greedy gleam slipped out from behind his mask of holiness.

"I shall call for a crusade. By the end of this winter, I will have more than a hundred thousand faithful ready to march against the heresy of Goldenveil, with cannons enough to bring that wall to its knees."

His voice rose, laden with barely concealed hatred.

"They have the audacity to name themselves holy! To call Goldenveil a sacred city! You, little saint, must burn them to the ground. Show them the fire of Justiciar, the God-King, Sovereign of the Sun and Light, King of the Nine!"

"It is my duty, Your Holiness." Solenne inclined her head, not a single muscle shifting in her face.

She took no pleasure in the thought of spending months in that sinful city, crawling with slaves to coin and flesh. But what mattered was the punishment of the heretics. Nothing else.

"I trust you are to meet with the king now, yes? Tell him I wish an audience as well. He will not hesitate to lend his strength to our cause."

***

Meanwhile, in Goldenveil.

Ethan was already buried deep inside Carmilla, who was riding him with her knees sunk into the mattress, his cock sliding in and out of that tight vampire pussy.

His eyes were locked on her tits, full and perfect, bouncing with every movement of that pale body.

Each time her ass came crashing down onto his lap, those two enormous mountains lurched upward, hung for a heartbeat at the top, then plunged back down, smacking into each other with a moist clap.

Her hard, pink nipples swung along with them, tracing small arcs in the air.

The wet sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, her bubble butt slapping against his pelvis and quivering on every landing.

Taking her purity had earned him a second Transcendent Gacha Ticket, something that naturally left Ethan in very high spirits.

Transcendent-grade items were incredible in power and capability, far surpassing even SSS-Rank items.

Unfortunately, his good mood was soon interrupted by a system notification, flashing before his eyes between the swaying of those breasts.

[A crusade has been declared against Goldenveil]

[Warning: You are currently the target of a crusade!

The Immortal Crystal Bishop, Archbishop of the Diamond Cathedral, has declared Goldenveil, you, and your people to be heretics.

By the end of this winter, the crusade will march toward Goldenveil.

Crusades are catastrophic events, but they are also full of opportunity.

Defend yourself successfully and earn incredible rewards. Fail, and you will sink into misery.

Rewards will be distributed to all battle participants based on their contribution.

Take note: a unique heroine accompanies this crusade! Taking her as your wife will grant unique rewards!

Estimated number of enemies: between 100,000 and 150,000.]

Ethan sighed, his fingers clenching tighter around Carmilla’s hips. They sank into the cool, soft flesh of her waist, leaving faint dimples in her pale skin, but his thrusts never lost their rhythm.

"What’s wrong, my husband?" she asked, leaning down over him, her golden hair spilling around them like a curtain. Her breasts swung forward with the motion, heavy and warm, grazing his chest.

"Apparently that pig at the cathedral in the capital of the Kingdom of the Burning Ice has actually declared a crusade against me," he said, drawing a low giggle out of her.

"Fufufu~ Well... that was to be expected." She shook her head, red eyes glinting in the dark. "Beheading him wasn’t enough, apparently... This time, I’ll turn that son of a bitch into dust."

Ethan smiled and brought his palm down on one of her buttocks with a sharp slap.

His eyes drifted back to the second-to-last line of that system notification.

A unique heroine accompanying a crusade.

He wondered who she could be...