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Chapter 614: Agatha’s Prediction

“Have you recalled anything?” Roland asked when they returned to the castle.

Agatha shook her head. “Most likely the God’s Punishment Army wasn’t successfully developed until after Taquila fell completely. I don’t fully understand the process.” She paused. “But what the priest described can’t be the whole story. It doesn’t explain the most fundamental question: how does a newly-crowned pope assume control of the God’s Punishment Army from his predecessor?”

Roland said nothing, turning that over.

“And there’s something else that troubles me,” she continued. “A God’s Punishment Warrior who loses all his commanders and then walks voluntarily toward Barbarian Land—that’s not explained by instinct or programming. The Barbarian Land you people know is the Fertile Plains of four hundred years ago. Nothing is there but ruins of the old holy city. And the idea that demons could have drawn them across that distance is too convenient to take seriously.”

“Who knows,” Roland said, though without dismissal. The blue blood alone marked these warriors as something no longer entirely human in the conventional sense. He was more interested, at present, in how to use their structural weaknesses against them. The spear throw that had almost killed Danny had exposed the gap between a sniper and the fortifications required to protect one. “If they’re genuinely vulnerable to disrupted command—to noise at the wrong moment—then perhaps Echo’s ability could—”

“I don’t approve of that direction,” Agatha said.

“I was thinking about disrupting the ceremony itself, not necessarily—”

“I’m not talking about Echo.” She looked at him directly. “I’m talking about you.”

“Me?”

“If Echo approaches a commander, she needs Nightingale’s Mist for cover. Which leaves you exposed. The church only needs to deploy a single pure witch with the right ability to end this.” She said it plainly, without drama. “You are an ordinary person with no power of your own. But right now, you are necessary. We cannot defeat the demons without you—not at this stage, not with what we know. That means protecting you overrides any tactical gain we might achieve through that approach.”

“The God’s Stone of Retaliation—”

“Is insurance against magic. It is not a complete barrier.” She didn’t soften it. “Even Nightingale is not infallible. But we have no better solution, and we make do with imperfect ones.”

Nightingale’s outline flickered briefly into visibility. “As long as I’m alive, His Majesty won’t come to any harm.”

Her tone said she hadn’t enjoyed being discussed as an insufficient safeguard.

“I hope so,” Agatha said, not unkindly, and let the matter rest.

She started toward the door, then stopped at the threshold.

“What is it?” Roland asked.

The pause stretched for several seconds before she answered.

“Lady Alice became Queen of Starfall City and Head of the Three Chairs not by power alone. Her thinking was exceptional—sharper and faster than almost anyone in the Union. Several times, her decisions kept us from collapse. Without her, Taquila wouldn’t have endured as long as it did.” She was quiet again. “Many believed that if she had been born before the first Battle of Divine Will, she would have ended the war early.”

“What are you trying to say?”

Agatha turned her head, a slight furrow in her brow. “The warriors in whom she placed her hope of saving the witches shouldn’t have become this.”

“You think the God’s Punishment Army today isn’t what she intended?”

“They don’t fear magic. They don’t panic. Their strength is real.” She shook her head. “But they require a commander at all times. They have no capacity for ranged attack. In practice, they’re an extraordinarily expensive close-quarters infantry. That doesn’t match what Alice paid for them—each conversion requires witch blood, which is irreplaceable—and it doesn’t match her standard of thinking. She wouldn’t have spent that much to produce something this limited.” She exhaled. “Of course, these are only my guesses. Only the church knows what happened after Taquila fell.”

Roland watched her leave.

Long after the door had closed, he was still sitting with it.

What Agatha had said carried a weight that went beyond military analysis. If the God’s Punishment Army was a corrupted or incomplete version of what Alice had designed—if something fundamental had been altered or lost across four centuries of church stewardship—then what exactly had Alice intended? What had those warriors been supposed to be?

He was still working through the question when the Sigil of Listening on Nightingale’s wrist rang.

“This is Lightning. I’m in the northwest, above Coldwind Ridge. The enemy is retreating. I repeat—the enemy is retreating!”

Roland came to his feet. “All of them?”

“All heading for Holy City, coo!” Maggie added.

“I see.” He turned to the door and called for the guard. “Summon Iron Axe, Edith, Duke Calvin, and all members of the Adviser Department to the reception room. Now.”

As the guard moved, he stood a moment at the window.

This changes the plan.

He had designed the entire campaign on the assumption he would eventually cede Coldwind Ridge. But the church retreating unprompted—pulling its entire force back to the plateau without being chased—meant the advance contingent had been exactly what it appeared: a last-minute force, cobbled together, now broken and retreating. Which meant the church could not reinforce on short notice.

Which meant he had time.

Time to evacuate every resident of Coldwind Ridge before the church could regroup and come back.

The relevant people gathered in the reception room quickly. Roland summarized Lightning’s report and scanned the faces.

Duke Calvin leaned forward. “Your Majesty, why not hold Coldwind Ridge ourselves? It controls the only road to the plateau. Wouldn’t the high ground serve us better?”

“It looks that way.” Roland shrugged. “But it’s surrounded by mountains on three sides and the slopes run directly over the defensive line. Anyone with a rope and patience can bypass any fortification we build there. We covered this in Neverwinter—ask Edith for the full analysis.” He looked around. “Any other questions?”

Silence.

“Then here are the orders. The First Army carries out the evacuation. Leave the grain and gold. The residents are what matter—every one of them, by persuasion first and compulsion if necessary. I want no one left behind.” He met Edith’s gaze. “The local nobility has more persuasive reach than soldiers do. I’m looking at you in particular, Pearl of the Northern Region.” He nodded toward Iron Axe. “The two of you are in charge.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“As you wish.”

“Adviser Department—” He turned to Earl Eltek and the others. “You assist Duke Calvin. Count the evacuees, register their identities, arrange food and lodging. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the room answered in unison.

Roland brought his palm flat on the table. “Then start immediately.”

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