Chapter 55: The State of the Redemption Army and the Church, and Light (part 1)

It had been nearly 11 days since Caparia and Isugard signed the alliance treaty, and Yang Hao and his team had been preparing tactical innovations to counter the Church.

On June 1st, all elven rangers who had ventured out returned to the vicinity of the Monster Forest to launch guerrilla attacks against the human Redemption Army.

These elves, still using longbows, were undoubtedly top-notch archers in the eyes of humans. However, compared to the vast numbers of the Redemption Army and their practice of making full use of corpses, the harassment by the rangers seemed insignificant.

During their guerrilla attacks, they could kill a hundred or two humans a day. But these hundred or so would soon become food for the Redemption Army, mixed with other supplies to feed their soldiers.

Moreover, the replenishment rate of the Redemption Army far exceeded the elves’ expectations. They couldn’t comprehend why so many people would eagerly join the army, replacing each fallen soldier with two more. They couldn’t understand why the barbarians of the Roman Empire fought with such relentless effort.

But if any Roman who had been to the demonic city were present, they might sorrowfully explain. This was hardly voluntary enlistment. Those entering the Redemption Army were often deeply in debt to the Church from fighting against the demon race, joining the army out of desperation, hoping for a place in heaven after their deaths.

Or they were bandits and death row convicts roaming the land, or famine refugees who couldn’t even afford to eat moss, joining the Redemption Army just for the chance of a better life.

This was despite the fact that the Redemption Army currently only allows men to join. If women were allowed, the number of recruits would increase even more.

“They fight for food, to pay off debts, and to plunder. But those who truly fight for their lord are only the priests who stay within the Redemption Army,” a ranger muttered to herself, her face pale. 

She had already emptied the quiver of arrows. With the Redemption Army equipping more and more shields, longbows were becoming less effective at causing significant damage from a distance.

She no longer dared to ponder why the Redemption Army had so much leather and wood supplies. From her recent observations, it seemed these beasts had developed numerous ailments from cannibalism.

Many appeared vacant and slow to respond to orders during marches.

But this was both good and bad news. At least to the elves, the rate at which their morale was declining was slowing down.

As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. In the midst of their indulgent cannibalism, perhaps these people had lost the intelligence and character of humans, yet also lost the fear that living beings are supposed to feel.

Ranger clicked her tongue and casually summoned wood magic to create a glowing green magic arrow for herself. She aimed it at the head of the last soldier of the Redemption Army standing in the field.

Swoosh!

The magic arrow pierced through the small soldier’s forehead. It exploded the back of his head and sent his cheap helmet flying.

With the keen eyesight of an elf, the ranger could tell that her last target was a child of no more than twelve years old.

“What am I even fighting against?”

She watched the emaciated face fall backward, unable to contain her inner indignation toward the Roman Church.

The rangers couldn’t pose much of a threat to the Redemption Army with their longbows.

But fortunately, something had changed in Caparia. Although their longbows were no longer as sharp as before, Caparia had at least kept up with the supply of consumable arrows without any slack.

Then again, who on earth was making these plain arrowheads?

The ranger slipped into the shadows. She needed to get to the nearest supply point to replenish her stock.

And just as the ranger left, the supply team following the destroyed patrol moved in after half an hour of ensuring safety.

They collected the corpses from the ground, stripping the bodies of their gear to clean and repair it for the next wave of recruits. 

They treated the human bodies like poultry in a slaughterhouse, almost to the point of setting up beams on the carts to hang them by hooks. Evaluating the bodies as if they were chickens and ducks, one supply soldier pinched a corpse’s ribs and shook his head.

“The meat’s getting scrawnier lately. Look at this one, barely any flesh on it. Won’t get much broth out of it. Are we eating them thin, or are these newcomers?”

Another soldier came over to inspect, then, with the help of a companion, struggled to lift a relatively sturdy body onto the cart:

“You’re looking at ones from the central region, right?”

“Central?”

“Yeah, the latest classification. The ones from the Church and the western regions had meat to eat before, so they’re stronger and have more flesh and fat on them—like these I just lifted. The southerners are under General Dreycar’s control, and they have fish to eat by the coast, so they don’t join us. The miners from the east are still digging for silver, and their food rations have been relatively plentiful lately. So that leaves only the people from the central region, right?”

“But I remember the central region is where the capital and several major cities are located.”

“Yes, but it’s also where the most farmers are. This year, they harvested nothing, and the nobles can’t even afford cakes, so there’s no way they’d give out food to the peasants. However, I heard that some food was distributed, but a few serfs who escaped from the central region told me that the bread they received was half mixed with dirt. Many people died from indigestion, so they fled here.”

The knowledgeable soldier looked up at the blue sky and remarked that these refugees ate grass and drank any water they found along the way. By the time they arrived, the survivors were all emaciated, barely able to walk, let alone gain any weight.

Moreover, even if they joined the Redemption Army and managed to eat some meat for a few days, it would take time for them to digest and gain weight. Unfortunately, these unlucky ones were assigned as livestock—no, patrol sentries—on their first day.

It was pitiful. After enduring so much hardship to get here, they ate meat for only a day and died without even seeing the Demon City. It was truly tragic.

As they were loading the filthy bodies onto the cart, someone noticed there was a child among the patrol corpses.

The leader paused for a moment, then lifted the body and placed it on the cart:

“Tender meat. It will probably be given to those with military merit.”

“Who has earned military merit recently?”

“I heard that a vanguard unit smoked out a lot of demons from the tunnels in the Monster Forest area. I don’t know how those demons managed to live underground, but they are valuable. So, those who have earned military merit will probably get to eat this kid today.”

“But most of the Redemption Army soldiers don’t even know they’re eating human flesh, right?”

“So what if they did? At least here, they have something to eat. In the central region, they’ve eaten most of the clay. Besides, once it’s in the stomach, it’s all the same.”

“Yeah, all the same… But the elves aren’t as formidable as we thought. These days, I’m even worried they can’t supply enough rations.”

“Hmph, they say elven rangers never miss an arrow within a hundred paces. But with our numbers, can their arrows really keep up?”

“If that’s the case, on the 15th, we could catch the elves off guard. By the way, isn’t that plan proposed by that bankrupt old man from Skool village?”

The Redemption Army no longer believed that the elves and the monsters in the forest posed any threat to them.

In the face of overwhelming numbers, even if the elves never missed a shot, the Redemption Army advanced using their fallen comrades’ corpses as shields. The dead would reach heaven sooner, and the living would have meat to eat. Under such fearless leadership, what did the elves have to fight with?

Their arrows? What a joke! 

Everyone knew the elves were a perfectionist race, taking days just to make a single arrow. Taking that long for one arrow? Hmph!

Once the elves ran out of arrows, their end would come.

Thinking of this always boosted the Redemption Army’s morale.

Especially now, with the Redemption Army’s strength having grown to over 50,000 effective combatants, not counting reserve rations, everyone was confident about the general attack planned for June 15th.

The Redemption Army’s commanders believed it was better to strike the Monster Forest and reap great rewards than to wait for the main forces to depart in August, September, or even October.

Even if they lost, it didn’t matter. But if they won, every member of the Redemption Army would get money, meat, and maybe even a few elven women.

Considering the elves were good for nothing but archery, this belief further bolstered the Redemption Army’s morale.

After all, in their view, these elves were nowhere near as terrifying as the barbarians of old.

“For the God of Light.”

The Redemption Army prayed.

They mouthed words for the God of Light.

But in reality, it was all for the gold, jewels, and lavish indulgences they craved.

With high morale, they returned with their cartloads, knowing the hungry soldiers awaited their fresh meat rations.

***

Meanwhile, in St. Petersburg, Bishop Stephen calculated the gains and losses of May.

Since the Demon fights began, the Church’s wealth accumulation far exceeded expectations.

Fanatical gamblers staked everything they owned on the demon fights in the Demon City arena, cheering for their chosen fighters’ victories and lamenting their losses.

They pawned even their underwear to gain more Atonement Words for betting. As a result, in some of Demon City’s smaller arenas, it was common to see barely-clothed poor people anxiously awaiting the competition results.

They gambled everything for a chance to rise above their station. Just a month ago, they were on their knees eating moss, and now, with their winnings, they could indulge in luxuries beyond their wildest dreams, sleeping with nuns, socialites, and demon girls, and feasting on fresh meats that even the capital’s nobles might not taste.

The Demon Fights had an immense allure for the lower class, so immense that it threatened to surpass the Church’s control.

However, as Bishop Stephen looked at the gleaming gold coins in his account, his rising concerns were soothed by the promise of profit, transforming ultimately into—

“Joy…”

Bishop Stephen was genuinely ecstatic because he had established the Church’s strongest economic revenue in history. Moreover, it wasn’t just about the money. Those lowly folks, once consumed by gambling, would inevitably turn to the Church’s banks for loans.

Once they borrowed and lost again, their fate was sealed. They would become serfs.

Even the underground saintess and ascetic nuns could not argue against this, as it was legal and reasonable. Thus, the Church not only earned money but also people, leading to an overwhelming victory!

But on the flip side…

“Recently, with the increasing influx of people, food has become increasingly scarce,” Bishop Stephen muttered, as his attendant promptly handed him a new ledger.

It was the account book of the Redemption Army.

Originally, the Redemption Army was created to deplete manpower while capturing demons for the Church’s Demon Fights events.

From the outset, Bishop Stephen believed the Redemption Army could ensure its own food supply while also providing enough food for the newly established Demon City.

But now, with more people joining the Redemption Army and the elves less frequently targeting their patrols, the army’s own food supply had become a problem.

“Hmm…”

Bishop Stephen furrowed his brows, pondering ways to quickly obtain more food.

His attendant, ever timely, stepped forward with a devilish suggestion that no one else would dare to think of.

“My Lord, since the Redemption Army is not part of the Northern Expeditionary Force—if the demons and elves are not actively killing their patrols, why not let the Church guard do it and disguise it as the work of the demons?”

“Oh?”

“This could not only spark a desire for revenge among the Redemption Army but also ensure their own food supply. More importantly, the surplus food could then be redirected to Demon City, attracting even more refugees. These refugees, once desperate, would join the Redemption Army. In this way, we establish a stable internal supply line that should sustain us until the 300,000-strong Northern Expeditionary Force completes its training and heads north.”

“This… isn’t it too bad?”

Initially, Bishop Stephen was somewhat concerned.

After all, the Church guard’s equipment was distinct from that of the demons and elves. The damage caused by war hammers and flails was unique to the Church guard.

But on second thought—couldn’t they just eliminate the informed ones?

Using reasons like questioning superiors and undermining morale—this could not only preemptively clear out unstable elements within the Redemption Army but also further increase food reserves.

Not to mention, the Redemption Army was the final refuge for those with no other place to go. If even the Redemption Army didn’t accept them, those scum would have no place to stay in the Roman Empire.

In such a situation, would anyone truly oppose the Church’s policies? Even if they learned the truth, they would keep silent, choosing to numb themselves. For those who couldn’t numb themselves, just add more addictive herbs to the food.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant!

Bishop Stephen praised his own wisdom. Satisfied, he sipped a mouthful of expensive imported coastal wine and took a bite of lamb from the western pastures. Then, a thought struck him.

“By the way, during the last bishop’s council, it was mentioned that we need more deaths. After all, the more people that die, the more their bank assets become ours.”

“Just send them to the Redemption Army or use them as reserves for the Northern Expeditionary Force. The more that die, the better for us. If we manage to take down the Elven Forest, it would be a resounding victory. My Lord, please remember, our Northern Expedition’s primary goal is not victory, but money and the elimination of excess population.”

“Of course, I remember. Haha, having money is wonderful. At least while the nobles outside are eating regular pork, we can enjoy the finest lamb.”

“You’re right, but I prefer salmon.”

“Hey! Fish is good too, though it doesn’t pair well with wine.”

The bishop and his servant shared a knowing smile.