Apocalypse Gachapon

With a heart full of frustration, the Saintess returned to her residence.

Just as she had shown at the banquet, the current Saintess of Saint Light Hall was losing control over them.

This all began with the departure of certain individuals.

Perhaps it was due to the collapse of faith, perhaps because the past glory could no longer be reclaimed, or perhaps because they had lost their roots forever.

Many of the devout believers who had dedicated most of their lives to the Saint Light Hall grew disheartened. After arriving in West Asia, helping their people settle down and establish stable camps, they gradually left, citing reasons like “exploring this unknown world” or “seeing how different it is from the Blue Secret Realm.”

The reasons seemed valid enough, and none claimed they would never return—but everyone knew that meeting again would be uncertain, if it ever happened at all.

The Saintess understood that beneath these surface-level reasons lay deeper causes.

For one, the harsh environment of West Asia had dashed the hopes of many who had once dreamed of a brighter future. Even if it was better than the Blue Secret Realm, compared to other places on this planet, it was nearly the worst possible choice.

Did they resent Cloud Peak? Yes, there was some resentment—but not hatred. After all, it was out of mercy that Cloud Peak had allowed them passage through the space-time gate. They could have just left with the Posthumous People and washed their hands off the Saint Light Hall.

Having a place to settle was already a blessing.

Moreover, in the early days of their establishment, Cloud Peak had provided significant assistance, even if it came at a cost. The Saint Light Hall was outsiders; who else would have helped them if not Cloud Peak?

Then there was the matter of their attitude toward the locals.

Even after their defeat in the secret realm, the most loyal believers saw it as fate, not a reflection of their weakness, but simply that they hadn’t been prepared.

In West Asia, they wanted to fight again—to carve out a true territory for the Saint Light Hall, even if it meant heavy sacrifices.

The environment in West Asia was indeed harsh, but there were habitable areas. If they could conquer one, after a decade of recovery, the Saint Light Hall could regain its strength. Another decade, and they might even surpass their peak in the Blue Secret Realm.

Unfortunately, this idea didn’t gain widespread support. Many were weary of war, and the sharp decline in population made them believe that launching another war now would be unwise.

After all, a war for survival wouldn’t be resolved quickly—it would be brutal, a fight to the death.

And then there was the lingering distrust toward the Saintess among these powerful and loyal followers.

Before, they had suppressed their dissatisfaction for the sake of the Saint Light Hall’s future. But without external pressure, that dissatisfaction grew increasingly apparent.

This resentment stemmed from the Saintess’s act of “patricide.”

Yes, even if her true intention had been to save the Saint Light Hall—to prevent the Holy Father from destroying everything—time had passed, and the weight of that “patricide” bore down on her more heavily.

For every person who thanked her, there was another who blamed her.

This might be an exaggeration, but it vividly captured the Saintess’s current predicament.

Those people acknowledged her contributions, yet could not forgive her past.

The contradiction left them unsure how to resolve it, so they chose to wander far away.

Among those who left were surviving leaders and many of the finest warriors.

The Saint Light Hall’s strength had plummeted by over a quarter as a result.

“Your Grace, you may bathe now.”

A maidservant approached softly, reminding the Saintess, who had been sitting in a daze since returning from the banquet. Seeing the exhaustion she couldn’t hide, the maidservant—who had grown up with the Saintess—felt a pang of heartache.

“Has Chi Lian arrived?”

The Saintess asked, showing no intention of moving.

“She has…” The maidservant hesitated before continuing, “Your Grace, please let us attend to your bath. You can rest first, handle matters later. Commander Chi Lian will understand.”

The Saintess smiled faintly and waved her hand. “Bring her in.”

The maidservant bowed and withdrew. Soon, a fully armored female warrior entered—Chi Lian, one of the new triumvirate alongside Zheng Xi and Duo Yan, and the only one who had openly sworn loyalty to the Saintess.

“Your Grace.” Chi Lian saluted before sitting at the Saintess’s gesture.

“How are things?”

Chi Lian’s voice was steady but grim. “Not well.”

“Though we arrived here battered and bruised, our numbers are still substantial. The area around the Saint Light Hall remains the most suitable for our survival. Other oases and fertile lands are either too small to accommodate us all, too well-defended to conquer without heavy losses, or under the Saint Light Hall’s control, making them off-limits.”

The Saintess nodded in agreement. The Saint Light Hall might seem stable now, but dangers lurked everywhere. Internal conflicts were nearly irreconcilable. Choosing smaller oases could lead to fragmentation—or even total collapse.

“What of the breeding program? Any progress?”

Chi Lian was responsible for the Holy Temple’s aerial forces, which had been nearly wiped out in the secret realm. Rebuilding this branch was urgent.

With a sigh, Chi Lian shook her head. “Not smoothly. Our breeding methods are mature, but they require certain materials, ones that are almost nonexistent on Earth. Despite our efforts to find substitutes, a few remain elusive. Particularly, a type of fodder grass for the young rocs. Without it, their growth is too slow, and their bones won’t harden enough to bear riders.”

The Saintess fell silent. This was a problem even she couldn’t solve.

“Your Grace…”

Chi Lian hesitated before speaking. “There might be one place where this grass still exists.”

The Saintess’s eyes lit up briefly before dimming again. “You mean Cloud Peak, don’t you? But… alas.”

The two shared a wordless moment of resignation. Just as Chi Lian was about to report other matters, startled cries and muffled groans came from outside.

Seconds later, Zheng Xi and Duo Yan strode in, followed by the limping, panicked maidservant.

Anger flashed in the Saintess’s eyes. Chi Lian stood, her hand resting on the dagger at her thigh.

“Your Grace, forgive our late intrusion.” The two leaders of the Guards and Knights bowed perfunctorily before ignoring Chi Lian entirely.

It was no surprise. Though nominally the commander of the Aerial Corps, Chi Lian’s forces were a shadow of their former selves, far outmatched by the Knights and Guards. Even her personal strength paled in comparison to Zheng Xi and Duo Yan.

“If you know it’s late, why come at all?”

The Saintess suppressed her fury. She knew the Saint Light Hall couldn’t afford division now.

Zheng Xi smirked. “Urgent business.”

“Speak.” The Saintess closed her eyes; it helped her stay calm.

“With the Holy City’s help, Duo Yan and I have secured the Wangtasi Oasis. It will serve as the new base for the Knights and Guards. Those who wish to join us will be welcomed—after all, the city lord has promised us the two nearby oases as well.”

The Saintess’s eyes flew open, and she stood abruptly, staring at the man in disbelief.

She understood the implications—this was a move to split Saint Light Hall.

These two controlled over 70% of the Saint Light Hall’s remaining forces. If they left, taking followers with them, what remained would be defenseless. The Saint Light Hall’s legacy would face annihilation.

This was why she had endured silently for so long—to prevent exactly this.

Without the grand Saint Light Hall, without faith, her authority—tainted by the stigma of patricide—had waned. The people now revered strength above all else.

“And if I refuse?” The Saintess took a deep breath. She could no longer remain passive. If these two insisted, blood would decide the Saint Light Hall’s future.

Zheng Xi suddenly smiled. “Well, we don’t have to go. We could even sell the Wangtasi Oasis back to the city lord for substantial benefits. It’s better if the Saint Light Hall stays united.”

The Saintess was confused. What game were they playing?

“Let’s be direct.”

Duo Yan’s voice was as cold as his gaze, even when addressing the Saintess.

“We can preserve the Saint Light Hall’s unity, but maintaining the status quo is impossible. We must change, return to our former glory, and declare war on the Posthumous People and Cloud Peak—until they are wiped out.”

“But we can’t do it alone. If you wish to prevent the Saint Light Hall’s fragmentation and downfall, an opportunity now presents itself. Accept it, and we’ll receive massive support. Within a few short years, our strength will not only recover but surpass its peak. Then, we’ll reclaim everything we’ve lost!” Zheng Xi picked up where Duo Yan left off, staring unblinkingly at the Saintess.

“For the Saint Light Hall’s future…” Zheng Xi’s voice, though quiet, resonated like a tolling bell.

“You must marry the Holy City’s lord!”