Pirate Kingship

In life, polished by devout faith and Holy Light, and after death adorned with gemstones by the clergy of the same sect, ancient cathedrals often enshrine such existence.

The team emerging from this new sect was in possession of Clemence, one of the twelve Saints from a millennium ago.

If Saint Mr. Byron had not embarked on the forbidden path, he would likely have received the same treatment upon dying of old age or dying in battle.

Of course, Byron did not feel any regret.

The Night Watch walked to the edge of the city, where the leading Fourth Order Bishop stopped.

Because ahead lay the territory of the Orthodox Church.

Although both sides had an agreement to not harm medical personnel and Night Watch, they themselves would not start trouble by venturing into the enemy territory.

"Turn back."

The Bishop had just ordered this, when suddenly from the mist ahead came a piercing scream:

"Ah—! Heretics are seizing the sacred artifacts, quickly send a signal for reinforcements!"

They immediately understood that the Orthodox Night Watch must have been attacked by an unknown force.

They all looked toward the leading Bishop.

Logically, in such external circumstances, they should help, but currently, they were in a hostile state.

If the Orthodox Church’s main force arrived and asked: "If you’re not the ones causing trouble, why help?"

One divine logic, and they would be in trouble.

Before the new church’s Night Watch could decide whether to go over, the screams across had already become a chorus, interspersed with a maniacal laugh.

Apparently, the attacker seemed to be only one, but the strength far surpassed the Night Watch team, clearly an overwhelming massacre.

Then, a female voice with clanging intensity shouted in the night:

"You attack with swords, guns, and copper halberds; I attack in the name of the Lord of Thousands Armies.

Joshua did not retract the short gun he extended until he had exterminated all the residents of Ai City!"

A fervent Holy Light erupted violently, piercing the dim mist in the night sky.

In mid-air, forming into a rusty giant cross, the sweeping wind scattered the distant mist.

Revealing a heroic Nun, with her gun sword, suddenly transforming into a crimson meteor charging towards their formidable ambusher.

The turbulent airflow behind her extended two long Storm Wings, propelling her nearly to break the sound barrier.

Someone in the team recognized her identity:

"That’s the Gun Sister from the Holy Armed Forces Cathedral, Fourth Order Hero Bishop Andrea!

She even learned the Gospel of Heaven, not sure which angel she pledged allegiance to?

Now using Saint Descent to launch a strike comparable to awakening the Self God, that should solve the enemy, right?"

But the next moment, the crimson meteor’s charge came to an abrupt halt, after a loud crash, the Gun Sister was shockingly repelled, hurtling back like a cannonball, crashing into an already ruined building.

The faint mist, blown apart by the fierce wind, closed together again, yet they still did not see clearly who the enemy was.

"That’s... a Legendary!"

Someone suddenly whispered in a low voice.

Everyone involuntarily trembled, some drew a cross in front of their chest, others a triangle.

Then, slowly backed away.

One step, two steps, turned around and ran without needing a command.

Even in the coffin, the Saint Clemence was jostled so much that a gem-encrusted tooth was chipped, unnoticed.

Nearly a year of successive religious wars had severely depleted the real Night Watch.

The later drafted personnel were severely under-qualified, not everyone met the Night Watch standard.

Organization creed:

"We swear to guard this world, against the Deep Sea!"

"We hide in the dark, far removed from power!"

"We are the sword-bearers, and one day, we will die by the sword!"

The organization itself bore a powerful curse from the Sea of Origin Matter: "No one dies well." Meaning no one lives to die of old age.

With even the core department deteriorated to this extent, it’s no wonder that the Old God Church and various conspirators lurking in the shadows rose up in rounds to challenge their authority.

This time was certainly no exception either.

Thud!

The Gun Sister Andrea, blown away to the building’s outer wall, rebounded and fell to the ground, trying to get up, only to find she had lost all sensation from the chest down.

This meant her spine was most likely broken.

The Nun’s heart sank instantly, looking beside her at her clergy, all lying on the ground, with no one alive.

Decapitated, dismembered, torn apart... all died horrifying deaths.

Tap, tap, tap...

Footsteps sounded from the depths of the mist, Andrea struggled to raise her head to glare at the arrival, or rather the thing that looked human.

She saw a dwarf clown clad in flamboyant colors, bouncing as if on springs, a rigid, laughing face more wooden than a mask.

Just one look at it sent a chill down Andrea’s heart.

Though it was roughly the height of an eight or nine-year-old child, like an undeveloped dwarf, the punch that sent her flying felt like colliding with a Giant Dragon.

But all the irrationality vanished when she saw embedded on the clown’s forehead was that... Golden Great Devil Card.