Cthulhu Gonfalon

pαndα`noνɐ1--сoМ

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

“This doesn’t make sense…”

Everyone saw how Kabbalah used the minimum amount of resources to summon the Oracles. The outcome was a glorious scene of golden light rays flashing past the altar in a continuous stream. Then many heavily armed elite Oracles, all exuding a murderous aura, descended successively. Dressed in a full battle kit, it was apparent from the first look that these elite Oracles were equipped with impressive combat power. Kabbalah, the senior summoner who was a Light Mask, simply felt that either his eyes were playing tricks on him or his brain was malfunctioning.

Or perhaps, there were problems with both his eyes and mind.

Kabbalah did some calculations with Sui’s Classification Method and estimated that around two out of the 14 to 15 intellective elaborations had met with problems.

Therefore, he felt relieved.

“Hallucinations, these are just hallucinations. There is no way I will be fooled by these hallucinations!”

He was muttering under his breath as he continued to summon more Oracles.

As compared to his other colleagues who simply registered dull expressions and looked as though they were in a daze, his reaction was undoubtedly the most sedate and composed out of the lot. He even earned himself approving looks from several elite Oracles.

Erm, those were just approving looks. The elite Oracles were very busy at the moment. They simply had no time for a deeper conversation with this fellow, who was clearly more of a Dark Mask but was instead termed a Light Mask.

The situation was just like how they had speculated back in their God’s Kingdom. At that point in time, there was indeed an emergency.

It was four against six, of which two out of the four had injuries. In such an unfavorable situation, even a god’s clone might not have the ability to salvage such a desperate situation.

Oh, by now, it was no longer four against six. The ratio had changed to two against five. The two injured Holy Daughters had been sacrificed, but in exchange for two of them, their opponent merely lost one berserker.

From the Church of the God of Aristocracy, out the remaining five Legendary Masters, the trio of the elderly man, the middle-aged man, and the jolly green fellow, as well as the Space Mage, were in perfect condition without even the least bit of injury. The tall, lanky and old ranger sustained some injuries that were not severe, and thus his combat power was not affected.

Even if the remaining two Holy Sons were more or less unscathed and generally maintained their combat power at full force, in a battle of two against five, they would still be placed in an adverse situation. It seemed as though they were about to collapse soon.

The two Holy Daughters had dragged the most vicious warrior from their opponent’s army, the berserker, to death. All three had perished together. Thereafter, the sacrifice that the two Holy Daughters made served as a deterrent, albeit to the slightest degree. As for the Holy Sons, the final two still standing, if they had been ambitious and sought for great accomplishments instead of trying their best to steer clear of making mistakes, they too would have been killed a long time ago.

Also, the Holy Sons had the help of other Oracles with diverting and containing their enemies. This, coupled with the help of the gunfire, allowed the two Holy Sons to pull through. If all these things were not in place… the outcome was imaginable.

There was a price they had to pay for the help they received. The Oracles at the light cruiser and destroyer level were responsible for the upfront diversion and containment of the enemies who had lost their lives. Even the Oracles at the capital warship level had been deployed by Lion to help disperse the gunfire and block the shooting guns. If not for these countermeasures, this battle would have ended long ago.

Currently, Lion was standing somewhere not too far away from the Circle of the Battle with a solemn expression. From how tightly she was grasping onto her scepter with both hands, anyone could see that she was hesitating at that moment.

There were only two fantasy-type Oracles, and she was one of them. There were no doubts about how impressive her combat power was. If she were to join in the fight, she would at least be an equivalent of a Legendary Master. If she were to be a little more forceful, perhaps her power might even be able to defeat the equivalent of one and a half Legendary Masters.

But this was her limit. Her value as a warrior obviously paled in comparison to her value as a commander.

However, as a soldier, Lion found it hard to accept a situation where her comrades were fighting with their lives at stake, while she merely stood aside when she clearly had the ability to help. If there was nothing she could do to contribute, so be it. But she clearly had the ability to do something, yet she was not doing anything. This stifling feeling suffocated her.

So when she saw the descending elite Oracles and knew help had arrived, she laughed with extreme delight.

Even back when she was in training drills, she represented the “Alliance Camp,” and they were always locked in crossfires with the Oracles from the “Axis Camp.” The fights were never-ending as blows were thrown to and fro as though they were in a table tennis match. Her ship was even bombarded and sunk by someone of the other camp on several occasions. However, this time around, the timely arrival of these reliable fellows was tantamount to a shot of adrenaline for her. She felt a boost in confidence as her tumultuous emotions started to ebb. She collected herself and once again regained her inner calm and peace.

Even before she reached the battlefield, a fair maiden with golden hair, whose style of dressing was more westernized and very different from her companions, shouted, “How do we fight this battle? Fantasy-level, give us the tactical commands, hurry!”

During the usual battle training drills, the main mission of this fair maiden with golden hair was to search for Lion at breakneck speed. Then she would have to hinder Lion’s commands, and if she had the opportunity to, she would bombard and sink Lion’s ship. But practice was, after all, just practice. Everyone knew that when there was a true battle to fight, Lion, being a fantasy-type Oracle, would still be an extremely reliable commander.

This was why the moment she opened her mouth to speak, she asked for battle tactics.

“Is there a need for any tactics…” Lion asked back with a smile; then Lion said, “Charge towards them, hit them to the ground. That’s all you need to do.”

“This tactic suits me fine. I like it. We just have to make use of all our weapons.”

“I like it too. Straightforward and as plain as can be!”

The maidens laughed and cried out their agreements. Then one by one, they accelerated to top speed. All weapons were in full swing as the maidens charged towards their enemies in a raving manner, pouring out heavy gunfire into the distance while brandishing their personal close-combat weapons that they were accustomed to using.

It only took a brief moment for the tables to be turned. The battle outcome had been reversed.

No doubt, these elite Oracles were somewhat weakened after being summoned. However, these elite Oracles were true Legendary Masters. Furthermore, every single one of them already had prior experiences participating in such large-scale battles between Oracle troops. On normal days when they were idle, these elite Oracles would be practicing drills and exercises. All year round, at least six months would be spent on combat, so they really did not lack the experience in this aspect.

In just a brief moment, they had grasped the extent of how much they had been weakened, and then, in accordance with their own combat habits, grouped themselves into several combat teams sporting different characteristics. Last but not least, they went seeking respective opponents based on the characteristic of their teams.

This was the time the difference between “professional” and “amateur” would be made apparent. Taking in the change of the situation, the trio of the elderly man, the middle-aged man, and the jolly green fellow formed a triangle camp right away and made a speedy retreat. However, the Space Mage, as well as the tall and lanky ranger, were a little slower. They were thrown forward and left with no choice but to take up the responsibility of being the first ones to receive any attacks coming their way.

The remaining two Holy Sons had no intention of giving chase. Immediately, they moved over to entrap the Space Mage and the ranger. The elite Oracles who arrived thereafter also joined in the situation and speedily formed a firm Ring of Encirclement.

With frowns all over their faces, the trio of the elderly man, the middle-aged man, and the jolly green fellow asked one another, “What should we do?”

“Retreat! We’ll go over to where our Holy Sons are!” said the middle-aged man without hesitation.

So they retreated without regard to loyalty, leaving behind the furious tall and lanky ranger and Space Mage who were struggling to pull through the ordeal.

After a while, the ranger finally gave up. He was attacked by several Oracles all at once. Without even the time to let out some final screams of agony, he was reduced to a pathetic state that resembled the mosaic patterns used to censor inappropriate parts in films.

Witnessing this scene, the Space Mage, who had been making several attempts to escape, finally gave up and shouted, “I surrender!”

How fortunate. She shouted in the nick of time as a shiny blade was already pointing out at her nape. Just a split second more and she might have been beheaded.

Feeling the aura of the cold, sharp blade on her beck, the Space Mage went pale in the face. Her body was shivering like the tree leaves rustling in the wind.

But there was a trace of a smile on her face.

Since this blade had not served its original purpose of beheading her, then her life was saved.

Whether her act of surrender would incur the wrath of Her Majesty of the Holy Kingdom of Noble Maids… Ultimately, she was only a mercenary paid to fight a battle. Although she had been under the employment of Her Majesty’s church over the past hundred years, she was not a member of the church after all. At most, she was considered a visiting god.

Visiting gods and the likes of them… should always keep a distance from their employers so that they could always turn around and change sides when the situation called for the need to do so.

She repeated herself, earnestly, “Really, I surrender!” To prevent accidents from happening, she emphasized again, “If you need me, I can transfer my allegiance over to you right away… So, please, can you just please get that blade away from my neck now?”

A maiden with two ponytails who was holding onto that super-long blade hesitated for a while. Then after heaving a sigh, she turned the blade away and put it back into its sheath.

“We accept your surrender,” said Olian with a smile. She walked over then continued to say, “But, please show us your sincerity.”

Because of her serious injuries, the Space Mage was as pale as paper. Yet, even so, she was smiling very happily.