By this point, even the most stubborn fools in the Light Council finally realized what Eagle and the others had been doing while hiding in the forest.
“They must’ve set up a teleportation array in that forest. These damn foreigners will keep pouring in from there!” a red-robed high priest said with a dark expression.
Standing next to him was another high priest, Annan—the same one Pei Sen and Eagle had met before. He shook his head and said, “We still haven’t heard from Atwell for so long. He’s probably already gone to the realm of the gods.”
Though he hadn’t liked Atwell much, Annan couldn’t deny the man’s talent. Atwell had been one of the most gifted among the Light Council’s new generation—well on his way to becoming a distinguished priest.
But now… he was likely dead.
The high priests present felt a brief moment of regret. Only for a moment, though. They quickly returned to the more pressing issue—how to respond to the terrifying number of Bixians outside.
The Pope of the Light Council hadn’t been seen in years. Except for the saint candidates chosen every five years to study under him, even the senior clergy rarely got to meet him.
These saint candidates weren’t just symbolic figures like the sons of nobles who often held honorary titles—they were acknowledged as high-ranking figures within the church, though few outside knew of them. They lived in the innermost sanctum of the Holy City cathedral, never stepping outside.
Most church affairs were decided by the twelve high priests in this room. Their authority was second only to the Pope himself.
Below them were priests, then clerics, while the well-trained but expendable Light Knights actually ranked quite low in the church’s hierarchy.
“Right now, the foreigners have essentially encircled the Holy City,” said the eldest of the twelve, seated in the center—a man clearly commanding the highest authority. “These foreigners aren’t like the weak stragglers who used to linger nearby. They’re not only immortal—they’re all transcendents…”
Everyone listened silently, each of them troubled.
Most troubling of all—was their immortality.
The Light Council had long fought the Abyss and knew its horrors well. Their biggest issue with abyssal beings had always been that immortality.
However, the Church’s purification rites had always been effective counters—even against immortality. That made the unkillable manageable.
But these Bixians had shattered that understanding. Purification had zero effect on them.
The only female high priest, Luria, spoke up: “I think these Bixians might not be abyssal beings at all. This sudden mass attack may not be solely because of the count who awakened the Seed of Light, but because they found out we reported their identities to the world—labeling them as abyssal and turning all nations against them.”
The Light Council’s rise over the years was due in large part to its diplomatic success—largely thanks to the efforts of the twelve priests.
Though some like Annan weren’t the brightest, both the elder priest and Luria were known for their sharp minds.
Annan opened his mouth to object but saw the elder priest nod slightly. He immediately fell silent, swallowing his words.
Not everyone in the room agreed with Luria. A grim-faced red-robed priest said calmly, “Only we discussed that matter. It’s still classified. Are you suggesting, Luria, that someone among us betrayed the Light God and informed the Bixians?”
Luria scoffed. “Do you really think that in a place like this, dedicated to the Light God, all secrets can stay hidden forever?”
Silence fell again.
They believed in the Light God—and in divine omniscience. Were there truly any secrets that could remain completely sealed in this world?
Probably not.
Still, for the Bixians to have learned of this in such a short time was hard to believe.
Previously, a few Bixians had lingered around the Holy City. All of them had been treated brutally. They were dirt poor. If a high priest had been colluding with them—it would’ve made no sense. There was nothing to gain.
“There’s no point debating that now,” the elder priest said. “What we need to focus on is how to win this war.”
They exchanged glances. Luria hesitated before asking, “Our Light Knights should be able to handle this attack, yes?”
“They’ve been trained for years. If they can’t even manage this…”
The elder priest sighed. “We trained them, yes. But if losses become too great, then we won’t have to worry about diplomacy anymore.”
“…In that case—”
“Whatever happens, the Holy City must not fall!”
All the high priests straightened up, immediately understanding what he meant.
No matter what happened, the Holy City—the symbol of the Light Council—could not be allowed to fall.
Just then, a pair of young men and women entered the room. They looked to be in their early twenties, both tall and attractive, dressed in plain white robes that radiated a holy aura.
The elder priest narrowed his eyes. “Did His Holiness send you?”
The young man bowed. “Saint Radiance and Saint Spirit greet the high priests. Yes—His Holiness sent us to see if there’s anything we can assist with.”
Despite their age, the Light energy they radiated surpassed that of any priest present.
They were the current Saint Son and Saint Daughter—direct disciples of the Pope.
The selection process, held every five years, had a terrifyingly high death rate.
The Holy City was now on full alert. Nervous commoners had been stirred up. The elder priest himself gave a fiery, brainwashing speech.
One of the undercover players in the crowd sighed, “Say what you will about these zealots, that was a damn impressive sermon. I used to think the Church was just a cult, but now I kinda respect it.”
“Impressive or not, it’s making our job harder,” another player said. “If they actually get the civilians to fight, taking the city will be a lot more trouble.”
The Holy City was the largest city in the Duchy of Tulips, and one of the biggest in the northern continent—home to hundreds of thousands of civilians.
“We can’t let them mobilize the populace. We don’t have the time,” said Sharpblade Drawn, standing outside the city.
Tianhe frowned. “This entire city is filled with Light believers. It’s only a matter of time before they’re all mobilized.” He looked into the distance. “And our fortifications aren’t quite ready yet.”
Sharpblade Drawn shook his head. “We can’t keep waiting. The longer we delay, the worse it gets. I suggest a surprise attack tonight.”
Tianhe gave him a teasing smile. “You really love night raids.”
Sharpblade Drawn rolled his eyes. “We’re players, not trained soldiers. Let’s be real—there are only two war strategies that work for us:
- Blitzkrieg—use numbers and respawns to overwhelm the enemy.
- War of attrition—outlast the NPCs, and victory is guaranteed.
Regular tactics requiring discipline and formation? Players just can’t do that. So for players to win, it has to be either really fast—or really slow.”
Tianhe thought about it. Sharpblade Drawn was absolutely right.
Real-time discipline was hard for players, and they had to log off eventually.
So night raids made perfect sense.
“The key is—we don’t die. Even if we lose a raid, we don’t lose much.”
Tianhe nodded. “Let’s go talk to Pei Sen.”
Thousands of Light Knights now flooded out of the cathedral.
The civilians, though thoroughly brainwashed, were still afraid.
The priests planned several more sermons. Once the city truly looked like it was falling, they’d turn to the people.
For now, the main defense was still the Church’s elite Light Knights.
Sharpblade Drawn and Tianhe spoke with Pei Sen, who wisely followed their advice. He didn’t know much about warfare and was humble enough not to pretend he did.
He calmly opened his “golden finger,” edited a quest, and submitted it to Bix Magic Cube.
Ding!
Decisive Raid: Holy City
The Light Council is about to enlist its citizens in battle. To stop this, the war must end quickly.
Quest 1: Assemble. (Time: 18:00–18:30)
Quest 2: Raid. (Commanders: Player “Sharpblade Drawn” and Player “Tianhe”)
All players received the message. Reactions erupted instantly.
“Damn! These two legends made it to commander status now?”
“RIP to poor NPC Ichabod. No command role again.”
“Well… skill gap’s real. These two are just too strong.”
“I need to call my brother—his class ends at six. Can he log in by 6:30!?”
“These large-scale quests don’t wait. Miss it, and it’s gone.”
“Ughhh I’m still on the road to Frost Maple. I won’t make it in time! Why today of all days?!”
“Do you think one surprise raid might actually take down the Holy City?”
“Could happen.”
“Didn’t we wipe out the Duchy of Balst in one go too? And there are way more players now.”
“Main quest, baby. Gotta do it!”
Players may ignore side content—but main quests?
Almost nobody skips those.
A game without a main storyline was no game at all.
That’s why this quest had better turnout than even Pei Sen’s previous camp-building missions that had major rewards.
Pei Sen stood in the camp, feeling Eagle’s buff on him.
He asked Bix Magic Cube, “So… this ‘camp aura’ you promised?”
Bix Magic Cube: “You have it now, don’t you?”
Pei Sen: “…”
So it was true—Eagle himself was the aura. A walking, human-shaped buff machine. How convenient.
The camp was so packed that people couldn’t even get in to benefit.
Some were shouting, “If you’ve got the buff, get out so others can get it!”
Others refused to leave, hoping to keep the buff until raid time.
“This little earl has too many hidden talents…”
“Hey, this is our Earl from the Thorned Rose faction. Other players shouldn’t get the buff for free!”
“Even our own faction can’t get in anymore.”
“Some of these moochers have no shame. They don’t contribute to the Earl, just leech his buffs.”
“Lmao I’m not leaving. Come bite me if you want!”
The forums were exploding again.
Pei Sen closed them with a sigh and glanced at Eagle, who was still peacefully asleep.
If they did win tonight… and he still couldn’t find a way to fix Eagle’s condition, what then?
The players loved Eagle’s passive benefits—but they wouldn’t worry about his wellbeing.
Night fell.
There was no electricity, even in the so-called City of Light.
At night, the cathedral glowed faintly like a lighthouse in the darkness.
Most commoners in Arly suffered from night blindness—lack of vitamin A.
With poor diets, they could hardly see after dusk.
But players had no such issue. Plus, tonight’s moon was bright. Visibility was decent.
And thanks to the raid leaders’ system commands, orders were clearly relayed to all players—turning the chaos into something resembling a disciplined army.
Pei Sen stood in the camp, nervous. This was his first real war—and it involved Eagle. Of course he hoped everything would go smoothly.
“Attack!”
Sharpblade Drawn’s voice rang out.
The players surged forward like a wave under moonlight.
The Light Knights stationed on the city walls had already had a rough day—harassed repeatedly by Bixians.
Though they’d “killed” plenty, they all knew it was meaningless.
These foreigners didn’t die. That alone was demoralizing.
Some knights grumbled at first, seeing a few Bixians approaching again.
“What now? Nighttime harassment too?”
But then… the shadows multiplied. Countless figures appeared.
“This isn’t harassment! It’s a full-scale assault—at night!”
That wasn’t normal!
Night raids were unheard of on Arly!
Everyone had night blindness—no one could see. Fighting in the dark was stupid.
So everyone just… agreed to stop at night.
Otherwise, blind soldiers might just stab each other.
A Light Knight’s voice trembled: “These foreigners… they can see at night!”
“They’re immortal, and now they can see in the dark!? This is terrifying!”
Ironically, neither Pei Sen nor the players knew about the continent-wide night blindness.
Ichabod might’ve known, but he’d been sidelined.
Besides, even he assumed Bixians could see at night.
So the truth?
A beautiful misunderstanding.
Players didn’t have night vision—but with the bright moon, it just seemed like they did.
They had no idea what night blindness felt like.
“Damn, they seem weaker at night?”
“…Actually yeah, they kinda do.”
Was night some kind of debuff for the Light Knights?
Players were baffled—but undeterred.
Little Pink Starfish 
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