Chapter 1233: One Script, One Chariot, the Ten Thousand Races of the Continent Cry Out for the First Emperor (5/5, Requesting Subscrip

"Kill!"

Across the endless plains, tens of thousands of troops charged, their shouts shaking the heavens.

More than ten thousand men, boundless and endless.

Tens of thousands of troops surged forward like a sea of flesh.

Louise's expression was calm, or more accurately, numb.

This was her thirtieth day in battle, and she had already fought dozens of engagements.

Flesh flew, blood ran in rivers—these were ordinary occurrences.

Though she was still young, she had grown accustomed to it.

Nobility: supreme honor.

But nobility also carried supreme responsibility; as a noble, she bore the duty to expand the kingdom's borders.

"Kill!"

The next moment, Louise's gaze sharpened; she raised her hand, and a beam of light struck the densest cluster of enemies.

Behind her, Tifania frowned, but ultimately could only sigh.

War is cruel.

Even though the Kingdom of Tristain had done its utmost to minimize casualties, the number of deaths remained substantial.

And she, aside from healing the wounded after battle, had no other choice.

Once war had begun, there was no turning back.

One hour later.

The Divine Guard easily defeated the tens of thousands of enemy troops; even when the enemy's mages entered the fray, they could not alter the outcome of defeat.

On the battlefield, wails echoed everywhere.

By the Queen's order, excessive casualties were avoided; most enemy soldiers were only gravely wounded, stripped of combat capability.

"Will you surrender?"

"Our Queen is the reincarnation of the Goddess of Life. This war is the Goddess's will to end the continent's centuries of chaos. Surrender, and I shall heal your wounds."

Tifania stepped forward in time, emitting a faint green glow; wherever she passed, the bloodstains vanished.

The once blood-red battlefield turned emerald green.

It was her casting of the Rain of Mercy spell, causing plants to grow rapidly and absorb the blood.

"We surrender!"

The defeated soldiers, expecting annihilation by the Divine Guard, were stunned by this turn of events; they rose at once, gritting their teeth against their pain to bow.

Tifania nodded in satisfaction, her glow intensifying.

The Rain of Mercy descended, and the gravely wounded soldiers healed instantly.

Had it not been for the searing pain still fresh in their minds, they would have doubted it was an illusion.

"Praise the Goddess's mercy!"

"We are willing to fight for the Goddess!"

As the wounded recovered and reflected on Tifania's words, they began to believe.

Who but a Goddess could cast such a vast spell?

Who but a Goddess could wield such power?

Who but a Goddess could be so merciful?

Through the Goddess's actions, they truly felt her mercy.

She did not wage war for power, but to end centuries of continental conflict and reduce the slaughter.

At that moment, everyone spontaneously imagined Queen Anrietta as a merciful Goddess, and countless waves of steadfast faith surged across the distance toward the imperial capital.