The debris and wooden frame of the carriage scattered across the ground were chopped open by a long axe, and the torn cloth pieces lay strewn all over.

A few agile youths sat in baskets lowered down the wall, pulling out the arrows stuck on the arch dome one by one.

Under the baskets, Foot Knights who drank the drowsiness-inducing potion and wore iron shackles revealed their Xiumi lace long-sleeved shirts and walked barefoot on the muddy ground towards Xiaochi City.

Even at this time, the militias and citizens of Xiaochi City had not yet recovered from their confusion.

Among the hundreds of Extraordinary Knights in the vanguard, a third were Square Banner Knights, most of whom were still clad in heavy armor.

With such a team of Extraordinary Knights, not to mention besieging the city, capturing the wide-open city gates was not a problem at all.

Yet this strong army that Xiaochi City's militias fought fiercely against for so long was so easily defeated by just over thirty Attendant Knights?

Keep in mind, although Xiaochi City's militia were civilians, many were hired mercenaries, with several being veterans who had fought on battlefields for over a dozen years.

In total, three cavalry charges were forcefully crushed by the Salvation Army cavalry, whose numbers were far fewer.

Does this make sense?

Citizens and merchants who hadn't had time to leave gathered on both sides of the street, showing fear as they watched the Cuirassier Cavalry riding tall horses.

"Was that a Witch just now? I saw it with my own eyes—must be a Witch controlling lightning or light."

"Not a spell, it's said to be Divine Art granted by the Holy Father to alleviate human suffering."

"What does it matter if she's a Witch? As long as it can defeat the Church, there's nothing wrong with cooperating with demons."

"Exactly, it's salvation!"

Hearing the chattering of citizens at her ears, Jeanne, seated on horseback, felt quite helpless.

Because of the existence of "The Promised Celestial Island," people didn't hold too much resentment toward Jeanne, who was essentially a Witch.

In their hearts, Jeanne was considered the Angel reincarnated, sent by the Holy Father to punish sinners, which explained her possession of such powerful Divine Art.

The people of Xiaochi City had never received any favors from Jeanne, at most only heard of her fame as a Saintess in "The Saint's Grandson's Expedition".

This, at most, neutralized their resentment, but was far from enough to have them acknowledge Jeanne.

The only thing that allowed them to breathe a sigh of relief was that at least for now, Xiaochi City had temporarily escaped being captured by the Allied Forces.

Some radical citizens even proposed to take the initiative to attack the Noble Alliance Army, though they were fiercely rebuffed by other citizens.

Despite the Salvation Army reinforcements arriving and feeling reassured, there were still murmurs of doubt.

So far, the Salvation Army had dispatched only over two hundred Holy Gun Cavalry and four hundred Cuirassiers.

To the citizens of Xiaochi City, Cuirassiers are not much different from horse-riding farmers; they all knew that the Beastmen's innate breathing technique wasn't particularly strong.

After all, among the six hundred who came, it's estimated only about two hundred are truly capable fighters.

But Kasha's Allied Forces boast over three thousand troops, nearly a thousand knights; how could this be resisted?

They hoped the Salvation Army's infantry could arrive within five days, so their siege could be broken.

......

From the narrow cobbled path, they walked all the way into a wooden hall painted white, where Armand made a gesture of invitation.

"Her Highness Jeanne, this way."

"Since when do you call me 'Your Highness'? You should call me 'sister.'" Jeanne pinched Armand's cheek, causing the eyes of the low-ranking monks to widen.

This was Bishop Richelieu, who stirred up the storms of Xiaochi City; how could he be so casually pinched and still have to smile in return?

After leaving the baggage and armor behind, following Armand, Jeanne descended the stairs from the first floor of the church to the underground dungeon.

At this time, in the dungeon, the leader of the Foot Knights, Crixus, had his shirt torn open and was chained to an iron chair.

Gnats buzzed, flies hovered over his head, and in the scorching weather, the branding iron in the furnace emitted a terrifying sound of melting iron.

Jeanne, upon entering, did not disturb the scene but instead took up a Killing Rabbit's fur thread like an ordinary farmwoman, slowly mending the battle flags.

After such prolonged wear, the rabbit fur they'd managed to collect and purchase was starting to run short.

The lackey intended to notify the inquisitor of her presence but was waved off by Armand.

"How many in total?" The inquisitor's pupils split in the middle, glaring fiercely at Crixus.

The hair on his cheeks curled from the heat of the branding iron, and the leader of the Attendant Knights, Crixus, wept bitterly, "I demand the treatment befitting a Knight; I have ransom money."

"Knight, knights are only fit to lick the hair inside my swallow skin, speak or not?" the interrogator sneered, and the burly man beside him, wearing a black hood, began to remove his pants.

Crixus immediately shouted, "There are three thousand five hundred to three thousand eight hundred people, more than eight hundred and fifty knights."

"How many square banners? How many attendants?"

"I don't know."

"Don't know? I'm telling you, this can be known." The interrogator snapped his fingers, and the hooded man behind him began to remove his pants again.

Crixus cried out like a cuckoo weeping blood, "I really don't know, I'm just an unknown little knight, who could tell me?"

Armand pressed down on the branding iron in the interrogator's hand, "These three thousand people, which path did they come from?"

"Uh, one on Nantes Path, two on King's Path, one on Mason's Horse Path..."

"Wait, you mean even though there are more than three thousand people, they divided into multiple routes to advance?" Jeanne paused her hand repairing the battle flag with the hair of a bone needle monster.

"By the Saint Master above, I have not a bit of falsehood, a total of seven routes."

"Seven routes? They divided into seven routes to march?" Armand even doubted whether he heard correctly.

Jeanne put down the battle flag in her hand, lowering her head to gaze at this knight named Crixus, "You've only dispatched three thousand people, why split into seven routes?"

Crixus licked his dry lips, "Count Mate and Baron Xiesidun are mortal enemies, unwilling to travel together.

Knight Hanzek fell ill and lagged behind, Count of Tyrol has always looked down on other nobles... The other nobles have various reasons..."

Through Crixus's explanation, Jeanne gradually understood.

The Kasha Noble Alliance Army, which set out, inherently had various internal contradictions and conflicts.

Out of noble dignity and demeanor, they were unwilling to submit to each other.

In the past, the knights and nobles of Jinhe Town also refused to cooperate with each other; it was only because of the presence of Grandma, Nidesar, and the Archbishop of Jinhe Town that they were willing to unite.

Yet Kasha County is the stronghold of the Juanist Faction, the church's power has long been overshadowed.

Nor did it produce talents like Grandma or Nidesar, so it took more than a month just to gather.

During this period, the army recruited in Xiaochi City went north to fight a battle and lost.

With the forces divided into seven routes, there were only three to five hundred people on each route, and one route had already been defeated by Jeanne.

Originally, Xiaochi City's army was split into two routes to aid Rapids City, which was already chaotic enough, yet they still had experts?

Compared to these nobles, the army sent from Xiaochi City surprisingly counted as unified.

"When you came to attack the city, did they set up camp?" Jeanne reached out and grabbed Crixus's collar, staring into his eyes.

"I, I..." In the air, there was a faint crackling sound of lightning, and Crixus's hair stood on end, stammering at a loss for words.

"Speak, I only give you three seconds, three..."

Remembering those bodies on the battlefield that were electrocuted to charcoal, Crixus's heart beat wildly, and he couldn't afford to hide anything, so he spilled out everything he knew, "Camped, the vanguard has set up camp, the rear army is still marching, not camped yet."

"At which locations? Point them out on the map." Jeanne casually tossed him away, and Crixus's nearly one hundred eighty pounds of body was thrown more than half a meter away.

With a scratched-up face, he scrambled to his feet from the ground as a bolt of lightning struck between his legs, charring the ground.

Without daring to delay, Crixus quickly rushed to the table, pointing out four locations on the map, "I only know these four."

"Weren't there supposed to be seven routes? One is gone, there should be six left, why only four camps?"

"Two of the nobles don't get along with Lord Maure, we don't know where their camps are."

"Draw the approximate direction and possible activity range."

Tiny lightning brushed across Crixus's neck, causing him to shudder, he bowed his head and dutifully drew two areas on the map.

Jeanne didn't speak, only stared at the map for a full five minutes, but what she asked after that was about something else entirely.

"Is it raining outside?"

Martin was momentarily stunned by Jeanne's question, then he looked at the two monks beside him, one of whom quickly walked to the window, pushed it open, and stuck his head out to look at the overcast sky.

"It's not raining..." As the words left his mouth, he felt a cool spot on his forehead; he reached up to touch it, realizing it was a raindrop's trace, "Hey, it's raining, it's raining."

"Gather all the Holy Gun Cavalry and Cuirassiers, abandon all unnecessary baggage, switch to fast horses, and follow me out of the city in thirty minutes!" Jeanne's eyes were shining as if they were glowing.

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