The Path to Lordship Begins in the North

Not far from the gray-collar workers, a whole squad of demon soldiers were feasting and drinking.

There was nothing they could do; the human lords were even more enthusiastic than they had imagined, sending not only exquisite food but also an abundance that they couldn't possibly finish.

Bulken, as the leader of this group, was directing several human slaves to build a camp while eating roasted meat sprinkled with spices.

Bulken felt immense satisfaction recalling the obsequious manner of those human nobles.

Although it has been repeatedly emphasized that the so-called theory of human inferiority is a tactical necessity, in reality, many demons genuinely believe in this argument.

Burken was initially only half-believing, but now he has become a staunch believer in the inferiority of humankind.

It's a pity that such a rich land is ruled by humans. It would be much better if the more powerful demon race ruled over humanity.

"Boss, should we just leave that scout team from before behind?"

A soldier, whose belly was bloated from eating, asked Burken lazily.

Bulken scoffed and said disdainfully, "What's wrong with letting those humans look around? Our small team of twenty is equivalent to twenty professionals among the humans. Those scouts are probably just here to see what we like to eat so that the lord can prepare accordingly."

"Hahaha, the boss is right. I like foie gras. I'll have those scout teams come over again later and tell them to tell their lord to prepare properly."

"Champagne is also good, it would be even better with beef."

As the soldiers continued to cheer, the demon soldiers, as if on a picnic, slumped on the ground discussing what to eat later.

In contrast, there was a deathly silence within the ranks of those infected.

Flora tore off a corner of her clothes and used it to wrap the festering wound of a refugee who was burning up.

To prevent the spread of the plague and curse, Flora dared not even let anyone fetch water to wash her wounds, because everyone present was infected with a severe plague and curse. If these plagues and curses were spread, everything Flora had insisted on would be in vain.

The only saving grace is that, thanks to the hospitality they received along the way, the demon soldiers did not force the refugees to spread the plague. In addition, Flora led the way, allowing her to continue westward into sparsely populated areas. So far, there has been no large-scale outbreak of plague.

However, Flora felt she was nearing her limit. The demon soldiers had already noticed something was wrong, but they were too lazy to say anything. Next, these demon soldiers would probably carry out the order immediately, spreading plague and curses to the surrounding territories.

After all, if these plagues and curses are not spread, the refugees who are the carriers of them will probably not be able to hold on.

Flora, who was about to wipe the sweat from her forehead, noticed that the pustules on her forehead had burst as soon as she raised her hand, so she had to wipe them again and again with her already filthy nun's habit.

"Your Holiness, please take a rest."

A nun standing nearby couldn't bear to watch any longer and tried to persuade Flora to take a break.

But Flora didn't stop. Instead, she gathered a barely perceptible holy light in her hand, trying to dispel a bit of the curse.

"I am no longer a saint..."

Flora wanted to give up. After all, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't cure these refugees and nuns. Helping the refugees prolong their lives would only be aiding and abetting evil. For these people infected with the plague, death might be the best outcome. Living would only make them carriers of the plague and the curse.

Flora had been thinking a lot these days, but what she was really thinking about boiled down to one question: Did the goddess really exist? Or was the goddess still alive? Why did those who prayed devoutly at the Basilica of Our Lady of Salvation receive no response?

As a quasi-saint, Flora knew more. The church had not announced any new oracles for a long time, and the goddess's response to believers was becoming less and less frequent, or even almost nonexistent.

Flora's ideas were more radical than Isa's: either the goddess was dead, or the goddess had abandoned the current papacy.

But none of that matters anymore; new ideas will die along with Flora's heavy body.

The nuns sat in a circle, seemingly awaiting their final judgment. Some even secretly prepared flint and steel, intending to burn them alive to end their suffering and prevent the spread of the plague.

Flora had already noticed that from the very beginning, many eyes had been peeking at the nuns and refugees, seemingly scouts from nearby lords. But Flora had already given up hope. She had once fantasized that there were still lords in the North with backbone who would send troops to wipe out these twenty demon soldiers in one fell swoop, but the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.

The lords along the way were increasingly humble towards the demons, practically wearing their loyalty to the demons on their sleeves.

Moreover, even if a lord were to eliminate these demons, there would be no way to cure so many plagues and curses. Just as Flora had previously speculated, even if all the holy water in the Church's reserves were taken out, it probably wouldn't be enough.

Unless the goddess performs another miracle.

On the other hand, among gray and white-collar workers.

The scouts, their eyes bloodshot, reported on the situation of the demon soldiers and the tragic plight of the nuns and refugees at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Salvation.

Isa was trembling all over and couldn't utter a word.

Since the situation of the demon race was not top secret, Caroline, who had risen through the ranks rapidly, also sat next to Lila and listened to the scout's report.

Caroline completely forgot the anti-war slogan she had shouted in the capital and knelt down, saying, "My lord, I am a top student at the Royal Academy and a third-tier professional. I request to lead the troops into battle! I will risk my family name to save these people."

The knights under Lena's command also volunteered for battle. As knights of the Lars family, they didn't care about the so-called Treaty of Surder at all. After all, Grand Duke Lars, the lord of the North, hadn't even signed the treaty, so it was just a piece of waste paper to them.

In fact, the moment Linde received the news, he was already prepared for battle. With Isha there, even if Linde didn't fight, Isha would probably gather a group of her followers to charge in. At worst, another meteorite would fall from the sky.

In reality, no one present had any confidence that Linde would fight if he did, and it was his right not to.

Linde gave many reasons for this battle, such as the need to keep the Chosen One Isa, to prevent the Gray Collars from suffering from the plague, to test whether the demons were really that terrible, and to flex his muscles as a warning to those who had their eyes on the Gray Collars' magic stone mine.

But in the end, Linde realized that he didn't need to think so much. Listening to the scouts' reports, he couldn't stay rational at all.

Upon hearing the scouts' account of the refugees' plight, a certain gene remnant from Linde's past life seemed to awaken—an innate, overwhelming hatred for the invaders.

Linde thought about it and realized that perhaps when he heard what Jefferson said, he already had an answer in his heart about whether or not to save those refugees.

"Attack! Laurie, you're in charge of the main attack. Bring the latest grenades. Don't worry about any losses, just aim for success."

"Yes!"

Laurie immediately gave a royal salute with fervor. Laurie wasn't originally a seasoned soldier; he was just a passionate young man whose youth had been worn down by time and crushed by accumulated disappointments. But at this moment, Laurie seemed to feel his past self slowly awakening.

"Lena, take all the Lars cavalry and hold the line. Do not allow a single demon to escape!"

"Good brother! One demon has escaped. I'll bring you my head!"

Lena and her knights were eager to try, completely ignoring Lind's quiet addition: "That's not necessary."

"Isa, you and Caroline take some soldiers to protect the nuns and refugees. Don't let them be taken away by the demons, but don't force them. Take good protective measures."

"I understand."

Isa appeared calm, but her bloodshot eyes revealed her to be the most frantic of them all.

"Lira, clear a space to prepare for our new member."

"As you wish."

Lila still wore an elegant high-necked skirt.

"Lisha, restart the production line for that potion. Judging from the current situation, our previous estimate of the required quantity was too conservative. If necessary, let me and Lila assist you."

"I understand."

Lisha also stepped forward; this was the first time she had felt her frail body stirring with passion.

As orders were issued, the gray-collar workers, like a sophisticated machine composed of thousands of people, emitted a deep yet intense roar.