Carolina glanced up at Mt. Uranus and shuddered.

Something about this place was creepy. Her instinct was yelling at her to run, but a nagging part of her mind asked her to stay. Something felt too wrong about this place, but as quickly as that thought rose, the warm comfort snuffed it out. It was like the very particle of air around the holy mountain was whispering into her mind, singing the song of peace and happiness.

Would everything truly be fixed by staying in this place?

Carolina slapped her cheek. No, she needed to fulfill her goal. Retreating now would result in failure.

The inner conflict had been building ever since she stepped within the Papal White State’s territory. Carolina couldn’t pinpoint where this urge to run came from. The people were kind. The smell of the food they sold was delectable. Her guide was friendly. The receptionist by the mountain’s foot processed her request immediately, responding with superb customer service.

It was like heaven itself wanted her to be here.

Why would she want to bolt when she was a step away from the job’s interview?

Carolina’s brain fought her instinct as she took the elevator, powered by runes, up to the residential area crafted in the mountain. Beneath her calm exterior, she was internally screaming.

The former Deputy Commissioner stepped out of the elevator. A jogging man in white overall greeted her with a wave and Carolina returned his favor with a smile. Another woman complimented her look as her leg carried the rest of Carolina’s body to the destination.

The people here were friendly. It was clear there was nothing to fear.

Those were the things Carolina’s brain told the demon in her head. The screaming of raw suspicion was growing fainter and fainter with every step she took on this road carved out of the holy mountain.

“Hello, are you Miss Carolina?” an armored knight in white spoke next to her.

Carolina nearly jumped out of shoes. She was so preoccupied with her inner-battle she failed to realize she had reached her destination.

“Yes,” Carolina expertly said, feeling genuinely happy. “I came here to take the interview. I believe the receptionist had already contacted you.”

“It is good to meet you, Miss Carolina,” the knight replied cheerfully. His face was a mystery beneath that helmet. “I have excellent news. Your application is being fast-tracked. The pope himself wants to speak to you about your impressive resume.”

Carolina lit up with joy, “That is great. When would this be?”

“Right now, miss,” the knight bowed. “I will happily lead the way.”

The usual Caroline would have sensed the lack of obstacle and knew something was amiss. The general lack of conflict in this too pristine holy city would strike her as odd. She would immediately suspect it was too easy to meet the highest authority of Montgomery. In her right mind, she would have refused and arranged for another date when she was fully prepared. 

However, Carolina did none of those things.

She was so happy and grateful to be noticed.

…

It wasn’t until Carolina was led through the cathedral and came face-to-face with the elderly but energetically fanatic face of Maximus that her wit returned.

The old pope in front of her was radiating kindly benevolence, but something deep in Carolina’s blood screamed at her to run.

Before she could respond to the instinctual urge of flight, Maximus spoke.

“As expected of the heretical blood,” he mused. “Even while basked under my Authority, you can still mount a resistance.” The crazed old man made a nasty smile. “But it is too late, you can’t escape anymore. Daughter of Miharl.”

Carolina knew instantly she just walked into the trap. Her mind wasn’t so deluded that she missed an obvious threat. She gathered the Black Mana, but nothing responded to her call. Her slender arms felt like an anvil. Her feet glued themselves to the ground.

Worst was her heart and mind. Why did the thought of kowtowing in worship of Maximus the Grand was so appealing to her?

Carolina fought tooth-and-nail against the desire to kneel and lick his holiness' shoes. It was sickening.

“Why not just surrender, little girl?” Maximus said. “It will be easier for everyone. It would have saved your clan many hardships when Lord Yume destroyed your troublesome nation.” Maximus frowned. “Well, what happened next was unfortunate, and your forefather was mostly to blame for that.”

Something in Carolina’s stomach churned. She heard about Maximus the Grand’s immortality. Legend said the miracle of Yume allowed the pope to live forever. Carolina originally believed it was a trick—a propaganda to amplify the divine camouflage of Eleanor.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

More important was the content of the bullshit from the senile old man. Carolina wasn’t some heiress of lost ancient bloodlines. She was a street kid in Curtis who climbed her way up from nothing. There was nothing sacred or special about her. She wasn’t like Betty and Xiahana who could trace their blood back by hundreds of years.

Maximus saw the confusion on her struggling face, “You must be confused.” The pope then enlightened her. “Let me explain how important you are, heir of Miharl.”

The pope began the story.

“A hundred and fifty years ago, Lord Yume attacked the Western Continent that had erupted in a war between the Elven Kingdom led by that bitch, Sofia, and the Council of Necromancers led by the egotistical bastard, Alucard. I believe even more neutral Lords like Romulus and Green joined the fray. I’m only there for the initial phase of the wars, but those ungrateful morons of both the Elf and necromancer dared resist our enlightened crusade.”

Carolina snorted even in her precarious position. The pope must be missing some marble. Anyone would resist such a blatant invasion.

“In the end, things became a complete bedlam,” Maximus grimaced. “Even today, Montgomery hasn’t recovered the power we spent fighting those heretics. It was a troubling time when alliances were forged and broken. The true crisis arrived when Romulus and Sofia killed Alucard and shattered the Council of Necromancer. A certain idiotic clan from the Council seized that opportunity to devour their heretical god’s body. Yes, it is your stupid clan, the Miharl. Lord Yume decided something was wrong and went to finish his battle alone.”

Maximus shed tiny tears, “It was a tragic affair. Montgomery looted some artifacts from both the Elves and the necromancers, but everyone in that battle suffered a grievous blow. Lord Yume, in his wisdom, sent a portion of Montgomery force back, but he never returned from the cataclysm. The aftermath of that grand battle destroyed the thriving civilization of the Elves in the Western Continent, turning the land into hostile uncivilized jungles. That was the sin of the Miharl.”

Carolina wanted to argue that she had nothing to do with that story.

Maximus noticed what she was thinking, “Oh, you have everything to do with it dear. The Miharl’s bloodlines absorbed the Authority of Alucard. Most of your kind might be lost in that disaster, but I heard a few members made their way to the Eastern Continent in shambles. Most of them had died out, but be reassured, I can sense the slumbering power in your blood. It is a ghost of what it was, but it is still useful.”

Carolina listened and thought back to her past.

Her childhood memories of staying with the old gravekeeper surfaced. Could it be that they were family? Was that old man a family’s servant? She always found it was strange about how he possessed the journal about necromancy, Black Magic, and Aura Art. If that book was her heritage, it would explain why it was so well-annotated.

“Weakened as it is, your blood still has a use,” Maximus smiled at the powerless Black mage. “Congratulations, you passed the interview, Daughter of Betrayers. I believe you will be quite a powerful weapon for us to use.”

Carolina’s vision faded to black.

…

Few days after Carolina’s induction, Montgomery's Pure Army led by the Green, Red, and Black Archangel confronted the flying city of Hecate outside the Forest of Separation.

…

From her throne, Etaceh watched in amusement at the force Montgomery had assembled against her. Her scanner picked up the Pegasus cavalry, some wagons, and several thousands men in infantry. She felt insulted. Maximus might be a fanatic, but it was disappointing how much he underestimated her.

“Deploy the automatons and begin the attack,” she ordered through. “Start shelling their position with artillery fire.”

…

Thus, began the first battle between Intelligentsia and Montgomery — the Skirmish at Separation  

…

The flying city of Hecate turned their artillery toward the army to begin their salvo.

As practice, the cavalry riding upon the Pegasi rise to the sky. Each of the riders was trained for this day, dodging and sweeping past the bolt and the shelling automatons to close in on the flying city.

The flying cavalry of the Pure Army was the elite unit. Each man was a highly trained White mage who mastered White Magic up to the fourth rank. These Pegasi were selectively bred for stamina and speed, trained with their respective owner for years to achieve harmony. The flying cavalry might number less than a hundred, but they easily evaded the fires from Hecate’s anti-aircraft weapons.

However, Montgomery's forces were still under the threat of aerial bombardment.

That was where the Green Archangel made her presence known.

Green Mana surged and White flowed through Archangel Geneva’s form. The earth and life responded to her call.

Green Magic Rank 6: Nature Wonder.

The wall of wood rose from the earth. Green Magic centered on the control of life. The general practitioner could control and empower beasts and animals, but the high echelon of Green magic could wield nature and life itself. The impromptu forest rose among the troops, providing the canopy of roof against the bombardment. White Mana coursed around the branches, blocking the fire as extra wrapping of Strengthen and Heal went to work fortifying the defense.

Not content with letting her counterpart hogged all the duty, Archangel Apolline strode out of the forest, leaving the commanding duty to Bruno. Red Mana surged around her, and into the earth.

Red Magic Rank 4: Earth Strike

Projectiles of rock launched into the sky, intercepting more ammunition from Hecate.

In the sky, the flying cavalry began launching their attack of Aura-enhanced arrow and Smite.

…

Etaceh frowned as she scrolled through the reading from the rippling shield.

She must admit she might have underestimated Montgomery a little. 

The barrier over Hecate shook from the power of a Thunderstorm cast by Apolline. Below, the automatons had landed, but the impromptu forest provided the decent barricade for the infantry to fend off their assault.

Etaceh knew the Archangels weren’t playing around. However, that also hinted at opportunity. Three out of the five Archangels were here, which meant only two remained to guard Montgomery. Etaceh deployed a batch of automatons specialized in dealing with Green Magic. These pretty babies were high-temperature inferno golem equipped with high-frequency sound emitters. Etaceh believed the squad of the would be enough to get rid of those troublesome barricades.

She considered abandoning the battlefield to her automaton and making a beeline to Montgomery itself. It was a tactic which gambled how much defense Maximus had prepared. Etaceh heard that the White Archangel was the strongest, but Blue was a wimp. Maximus was never a fighter. Direct attack on Montgomery itself might prove decisive to the enemy’s morale.

If she captured Maximus, and cracked his annoying Authority, victory would be instantaneous.

Etaceh sank into contemplation. Yeah, losing this intervention and batting right at the owner was a much cooler option. 

…

Unfortunately, Etaceh wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Bruno commanded the troop the moment he saw the coming flaming mechanical beast, “Deploy Oleg-Regina. Geneva, they are sending in golems to burn your defense down! Do something!”

“Very well,” Geneva plucked her harp and got active.

Meanwhile, Bruno personal troops wheel an ancient anchor they had stored inside the wagon to their commander.

It was the anchor to shift the weight of the battle.