Princess's Struggle for Survival-Chapter 522: We will talk tonight (It’s a big - )

On the border between the Kingdom of Velys and the Valeria Empire, an eternal cold wind blew across the frozen tundra, a desolate land rarely trodden by living beings, now the main battlefield between the two opposing forces.

"Knight-Captain Kales, how is the frontline situation?"

At the temporary base of the Kingdom of Velys, inside the Grand Cathedral camp fortified around the clock by countless light-elemental circles, a tall brunette woman in a pure black nun’s robe and a thin, fringed white veil spoke softly.

Monica Angelis stood elegantly beneath the light, her beautiful eyes slightly narrowed. Her thick legs were wrapped in pure white stockings, and on her feet were black high heels with silver laces crisscrossing over her delicate soles, accentuating the soft, smooth arch of her white-stockinged feet.

Before her, a red-haired knight clad in holy white armor knelt on one knee, one hand near the hilt of his sword, the other pressed firmly over his left chest. His gaze was solemn and devout, utterly unaffected by the woman’s beauty.

"Reporting to the Saintess, Your Grace. The Valeria Empire’s fortress walls have suffered severe damage. Multiple defensive circles have been destabilized by the [Blessing], and are nearing collapse."

"However, our own losses are equally heavy. The Northern Knight Brigade has suffered a ten percent casualty rate. Most remaining knights are injured and undergoing treatment."

Compared to the devastating magical bombardment from the mana cannons, the Kingdom of Velys’s casualties during the siege phase were still impressive.

"Under the psychological pressure of the mana cannons, we consolidated our offensive strategically and proactively our battle formations tactically, ensuring our main forces wouldn’t be wiped out in a single blast."

Knight-Captain Kales’ Eastern Knight Brigade had been among those caught in the mana cannon’s blast. Although the remnants had regrouped and been reinforced with new recruits, they were far from their prime strength, unable to muster even half their former power.

Yet, their sacrifice hadn’t been in vain. According to battlefield clerics’ observations, the mana cannon inside Liya Tower Fortress emitted massive magical fluctuations upon activation. Previously, during attacks on the secondary fortress, the distance to Liya Tower had been too great, by the time anyone reacted, the cannon had already fired, leaving no time to evade. All they could do was expose their bodies to the destructive energy wave.

Now, however, having identified this telltale sign before the cannon’s launch, the threat posed by the mana cannon to the Holy Cathedral had significantly diminished. Furthermore, considering the Valeria Empire’s likely shortage of crystal supplies, maintaining another barrage would be difficult. Thus, the cannon’s deterrent effect was steadily weakening.

After hearing Kales’ report, Monica gave a slight nod. Her exquisite face remained emotionless as she calmly replied.

"Thank you for your efforts, Knight-Captain Kales."

The handsome red-haired knight remained kneeling, replying in a low voice.

"All for the Church. All for the Glorious Lord of Light."

It had been the second day since Monica arrived at the frontlines, the fifth day since the last major offensive organized by the cathedral’s knight orders.

After bidding farewell to Kales, Monica walked through the knight encampment, sheltered from the biting wind. Her white-stockinged legs swayed gently as the crisp clicks of her high heels blended with the surrounding clanking of metal, standing out distinctly.

Unlike Kales, who sought to breach the border through sheer numbers, Karunte, the Northern Knight Brigade’s overall commander, was more cautious. Having learned of the mana cannon’s existence, and realizing the Valeria Empire’s severe manpower shortage, he had adjusted the battle plan, making the elimination of enemy combatants their primary objective.

Backed by the Kingdom of Velys, the Church of Light was the sole faith of all its citizens. In such an environment where light magic was universally accessible, their accompanying healers were generally proficient in healing and purification magic. Many were exceptionally talented in medical magic, providing superior care.

In other words, as long as injuries weren’t immediately life-threatening or involved irreversible limb loss, the combined magic ritual led by bishops, [Holy Light, Glory Eternal], along with the healers’ best treatments, could fully restore them.

Knights were already famous for their exceptional physical conditioning, and with such skilled healers, their recovery was swift.

The Valeria Empire lacks this advantage. They were heathens who believed in gods and received no divine blessings. Lands untouched by light suffer endlessly from pain and disease.

Backward medical practices, magic hoarded by a few nobles, these factors meant that even as defenders, the Empire’s casualties weren’t significantly lower than the attackers’. Their recovery rate was far slower than that of the Cathedral’s knight orders.

Especially recently, rumors had spread that the Valeria Empire was gripped by a plague. The Pope declared it a divine punishment upon the faithless, proclaiming their current military campaign as walking the luminous path of righteousness, spreading the grace of the gods to a land without belief.

If light had been brought to the Valeria Empire earlier, perhaps the plague would never have occurred. Civilians could have equally enjoyed the blessings of the Light God, becoming beloved children of the divine.

Thus, everything now unfolding was the bitter fruit of heretics closing their eyes and ears to the truth, no one else was to blame.

As the clear clatter of high heels faded, red-haired Knight-Captain Kales slowly rose, following the path Monica had just taken. At a crossroad, they parted ways. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

To the right was Monica’s destination, a formation of Holy Knights and injured soldiers receiving treatment. As the divinely chosen Saintess, it was only right she went to console them.

Kales, however, turned left, down a quiet, peaceful path, equally sheltered from the wind.

Behind the knight encampment, a flat stretch of frozen ground saw little foot traffic, far quieter than the bustling front camp.

Seeing Kales approach, armored knights respectfully greeted him. The man gave a slight nod in return, murmuring, "The Light God is with us."

"The Saintess has come to inspect the frontlines. If you wish to glimpse her holy visage, now is your chance."

"Understood, Knight-Captain Kales."

After the knights withdrew, Kales exhaled softly. A wisp of white mist rose, obscuring his vision.

Entering the silent cemetery, row upon row of ice coffins glowed under soft light. Knights in armor lay within, faces pale as frost, eyes closed in eternal rest.

The tundra’s subzero temperatures preserve the coffins, slowing decomposition to a near halt, bodies could remain unchanged for weeks.

Clerics had already performed rites and eulogies for the fallen heroes. Their souls will enter the divine kingdom, forever wrapped in light and warmth.

As for their mortal remains, they will remain sealed in ice until the Holy Cathedral achieves final victory. Then, they will return with honor to the empire’s heartland, buried in a sacred cemetery near the Grand Cathedral, enjoying eternal peace.

Kales gazed at the youthful face within one coffin, his dark eyes flickering with complex emotions.

He knew this knight, a twenty-one-year-old prodigy recognized by the Church’s orders, recruited into his ranks as a vanguard for this eastern campaign.

The dried blood at the youth’s lips had frozen solid. His fingers, stiff with cold, still gripped his sword hilt, frozen in a combat stance.

He was lucky, killed instantly by a mana weapon piercing his heart, dying in an instant, painlessly, without awareness. Unlike others who perished horribly, torn apart by energy waves, half their heads vaporized by plasma bombs, or sliced in half by stray wind blades.

Moreover, his fortune lay in being recovered by fellow knights, rather than left exposed on the battlefield, where blood had dyed the earth dark red, and scattered body parts littered the snow. Many temple knights fell in unrecoverable positions. Blizzards swept over them, sealing even their remains in ice, touching them might shatter them like glass.

They had no chance to pray for these heroes, nor any means to bury them in their homeland.

Staring at the youth in the coffin, Kales recalled his parents, two farmers living in the suburbs of the capital. They survived on meager barley harvests, occasionally sewing clothes for others to supplement their income, barely scraping by.

Long before the Kingdom of Velys’s purge of heretics, they had been devout followers of the Omniscient Lord, sending their only children to the Holy Church to study scriptures and train in combat.

If they knew their son died here, how would they feel?

Would they be proud of his sacrifice for faith? Or... would they regret it?

His armored hand gently touched the ice coffin. For a moment, Kales saw the vibrant young life that once was, the memory of a radiant knight in armor, sword in hand, eyes resolute with unwavering determination.

"..."

What am I thinking?

Moments later, Kales snapped back to reality. His armor clinked as his hand slowly left the coffin.

To die for the Lord, spreading His mercy and love to the faithless.

Even in his final moments, this knight must have felt pride in his actions.

He was a true knight of the Church.

Standing up, Kales surveyed the countless ice coffins surrounding him. Composing his expression, he stepped onto a temporary pulpit, placed a hand over his chest, and softly chanted passages from the new scriptures, offering posthumous prayers for the brave knights who gave their lives.

"Your heroic deeds are testified by the Lord. Your sacrifices shall become light..."

"...The Omniscient Lord mercifully opens the gates of the divine kingdom for you, a land beyond all strife, an ocean of light and warmth, the promised resting place for souls."

..............

Meanwhile, inside Liya Tower Fortress, Astrid sat at her desk, carefully reading a secret letter from the Empress.

She had been busy optimizing mana devices during the day and discussing magical theories with Charlotte at night, neglecting capital affairs for some time. She hadn’t expected Amalia to send such momentous news.

First, negotiations with the Velmont family, Amalia secured cheaper construction materials in exchange for luxury exports from imperial territories, injecting funds into the empty treasury and turning massive deficits into small surpluses.

Second, establishing trade routes with the Pan-Human Alliance, leveraging their strategic island locations to acquire vast quantities of cheap water and wind attribute crystals, supplementing the frontline mana weapons.

But what surprised Astrid most was Amalia’ handling of the nation’s Arcanist mages.

Considering the white-stockinged little girl had ruled for less than half a year, with neither the experience nor the authority of the former emperor, Hibbort Valeria, Astrid had only expected Amalia to stabilize the rear and ensure basic frontline supplies, the rest she and Lyra would handle.

To her surprise, Amalia had not only exceeded expectations but achieved remarkable results. Through diplomacy and domestic policy, she forged external ties with the Pan-Human Alliance, internal connections with the Velmont family, and even provided substantial military support.

Some domestic Arcanist mages would be dispatched to Duke Charles’ territory under the Empress’s wartime decree, serving as insurance against Kingdom of Velys’s aggression.

This fills the last missing piece of Astrid’s strategy.

Her biggest concern had been the Kingdom of Velys deploying elite forces for surprise attacks, offensive maneuvers that, when initiated first, held high success rates. Worse, she was stationed at the border. If an Arcanist mage captured or killed her, the Empire would suffer catastrophic consequences.

As for why the Valeria Empire didn’t send their own Arcanist mages first, considering how difficult it was for Amalia to command even the nobility’s top-tier forces, initiating open conflict among nobles would provoke unprecedented resentment toward the new Empress.

The Kingdom of Velys faced similar dilemmas. But if pushed to the brink, the king and pope might choose mutual annihilation over waiting for internal collapse and having a vengeful enemy right on their doorstep.

"My sister once said human nature tends toward compromise. So I chose to retreat first, then advance, remove the roof before opening the window."

"Negotiations went well. At least during the Three Nobles Conference, the dukes remained restrained, showing no discontent."

"I’ll give them some sweets afterwards, but not yet."

Reading the delicate handwriting, Astrid could almost see Amalia leaning into her embrace, using her sweetest voice to seek praise, her white-stockinged feet resting on her lap, leaning against her with innocent dependence.

Dipping her pen in ink, Astrid generously wrote words of praise for Amalia’ administrative abilities, then detailed other matters, current frontline emergencies, the Kingdom of Velys’s rapidly offensive pace, and the possibility that Liya Tower Fortress might not hold until winter.

"Also, as the weather cools, Amalia must take care to stay warm. Drink more hot tea."

"Don’t assume it’s warm just because the sun is bright during the day. By night, the cold strikes suddenly, so adding clothes then may be too late."

After a few more personal notes, ensuring she’d covered everything, Astrid reread the letter, folded it, placed it in an envelope, and handed it to a servant with orders to deliver it to the capital immediately.

"Same rules as always, make it as fast as possible."

"Yes, Your Highness the Regent."

Watching the servant leave, Astrid turned her head, gazing at the fortress now fully darkened. Snowflakes settled in her long hair, making her already silvery strands shimmer even brighter.

A little over a week ago, the Kingdom of Velys launched another fierce assault. Unlike previous attempts to breach the walls, this time the Church Knights specifically targeted soldiers on the battlements, using high-intensity light magic for precise elimination.

One side fielded heavily armored knights with superior equipment, the other defenders protected by city defense circles. Overall strength was roughly equal, but the attackers’ ability to inflict effective casualties far surpasses the defenders’.

Scorching light arrows, relentless heat waves, radiant holy light blanketing the battlefield, casualties among the Valeria Empire forces reached new highs, and panic continued spreading through the ranks.

Only because both Charles and Astrid were on the frontlines, holding the line with the authority of a duke and a princess, did the defense avoid total collapse.

But this also meant Lyra had been exceptionally busy lately, rushing between Astrid, handling potential plague outbreaks, and when free, volunteering at the infirmary, using her exceptional light affinity to heal the wounded.

Ironically, the Kingdom of Velys’s most lethal offensive spells were all light-based, yet Lyra possessed extraordinary resistance to light elements. specific, destructive light particles directed at her would transform into gentler forms upon contact, sharp light blades or arrows becoming soothing waves of light surrounding her.

This effect became even more pronounced after Lyra obtained the Immaculate Holy Sword and Holy Light Armor. Despite facing Arcanist-level light magic, the chance of light particles harming her was virtually nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this affinity only protects her, offering no benefit to others. The very light that caressed her tenderly became a soul-reaping scythe and spear to the soldiers.

After dinner, Astrid and her head maid visited the infirmary, finding Lyra using Holy Healing Magic on the wounded.

"How is it now?"

Seeing Astrid, Lyra hesitated, then followed her outside before speaking softly.

"In terms of magical potency, Holy Healing performs quite well, comparable only to water-element healing magic of the same tier, Aqua Therapy."

"But..." Thinking of the soldiers’ tense reactions to light, Lyra sobbed softly. "Perhaps because Church Knights mainly use light magic in combat, these injured soldiers seem to resist healing light."

Just as different elements have varying affinities for different people, humans can also have elemental resistances, though rarely so pronounced as to interfere with treatment.

Recalling the trembling bodies of the wounded, Lyra lowered her gaze, her breathing slowed down.

They were believers who embraced the holy light, yet now that same power was used to slaughter others. Outwardly preaching faith, inwardly committing the basest acts of aggression.

She understood the Church’s doctrine less and less.

It was no different from brainwashing, shifting blame just like the Kingdom of Velys’s elite.

"Veterans of prolonged battle naturally tense up, even instinctively resist, when exposed to magic similar to what attacked them."

Like soldiers off the battlefield, sometimes a sharp metallic sound would make them flinch, thinking bullets whizzed by, triggering severe aversion.

"This is normal. It requires gradual recovery, and can’t be changed overnight."

Seeing Lyra’s dejection, Astrid paused briefly, then gently took the girl’s hand, speaking soothingly.

"You’re doing wonderfully, Lyra."

Feeling the warmth of Astrid’s palm, the biting wind against her cheek seemed to weaken. Lyra lifted her eyes, her soft pink hair swaying in the breeze.

"It’s... not that great..."

"My water affinity is a bit low, only ’Good’, so I didn’t learn many related spells. Otherwise, I could help more now."

They had little resistance to water magic. At the same tier, hydrotherapy would undoubtedly be more effective than light healing.

Seeing Lyra spiraling into self-doubt, Astrid glanced around, no one was watching, then raised her other hand and gently pinched the girl’s cheek.

"Good thinking, but efficiency matters too."

Her voice was cool and melodious, blending with the evening breeze.

"Lyra isn’t a specialist healer. Your duty is to protect them on the battlefield, using your strongest magic and combat skills, not healing afterward."

"Don’t forget what Elizabeth Academy of Magic taught you, higher-tier mages have absolute dominance over lower-tier ones when casting the same elemental magic."

Because the total number of elemental particles in the air is constant, stronger magic can attract more particles. The weaker-willed mage can’t even gather enough elements for their spell, rendering it ineffective.

In truth, during every defense, Lyra had followed this principle. So upon hearing Astrid’s explanation, she quickly grasped the logic and escaped her feelings of helplessness.

"Yes, Astrid is right."

It wasn’t that Lyra fully accepted it, just that she realized these negative emotions brought no positive outcome. Dwelling on them only drains her.

She simply wasn’t strong enough yet.

Seeing Lyra quickly regain composure, Astrid blinked her crimson eyes, then spoke.

"Do you need to stay here longer to help?"

Given the Kingdom of Velys’s recent movements, Monica was likely already at the border.

Lyra looked at the silver-haired beauty before her, her fingers gently tightening over Astrid’s hand.

"Astrid... did you come looking for me?"

"Can’t I just come see our little knight?"

"N-no, of course not."

No matter how many times, hearing Astrid say such things made Lyra instinctively nervous.

Perhaps only after a very long time would she get used to such affection from her beloved, though to Astrid, this wasn’t affection at all.

"So... did Astrid come specifically to see me?"

"..."

Monica’s matter could wait until tonight. Astrid appearing outside the infirmary now was indeed to check on Lyra.

"Yes," Astrid answered.

Receiving confirmation, Lyra’s lips curved into a smile, her azure eyes shimmering like rippling water.

"Just wait a little longer, okay?"

"I want to cast a few more light spells to supplement Holy Healing."

Facing Lyra’s request, Astrid didn’t refuse.

"Okay, I’ll wait."

After speaking, Astrid continued gazing at Lyra’s face, her voice soft.

"Also, Lyra, save some energy. We have things to discuss tonight."

Huh? Tonight?

"What things?"

Lyra asked instinctively. Astrid replied:

"Not convenient to say now. We’ll talk in bed later."

There was too much intelligence to cover at once, and Astrid couldn’t guarantee Lyra would succeed immediately. It also depends on whether Monica cooperated.

S-still have to talk in bed...?

Unbidden thoughts flashed through Lyra’s mind. Feeling her ears grow warm, the pink-haired girl released Astrid’s hand, turned, and walked back into the infirmary, her knight boots clicking crisply on the tiles.

"Then... we’ll talk tonight..."

Watching Lyra hurry away flustered, Astrid covered her lips with a light laugh, crimson eyes glinting with amusement.

Lyra was as easy to tease as ever.

An hour later, back in their room, the two sat on the bed’s edge.

Feeling the soft mattress beneath her, the smooth silk of Astrid’s skirt brushing her palm, Lyra hesitated for seconds, then gathered courage and kissed Astrid’s cheek.

On one hand, a maiden should be reserved. On the other, a kiss initiated by her might not end quickly.

Astrid had serious matters to discuss, best not to leave herself in an awkward state.

Yet such a simple, fleeting kiss made Lyra overthink, Astrid gently crossed her black-stockinged legs, resting her hand at the junction of thigh and skirt, speaking softly.

"Now that we’re back, let’s get to the point."

Her crimson eyes glimmered, a faint cold fragrance spreading into the air as she crossed her legs.

"Lyra, do you remember what I told you half a month ago, about establishing contact with Saintess Monica Angelis?"

At that time, Astrid had just arrived in the north, guessing her inspection news would reach the Kingdom of Velys through intelligence networks.

And Monica, upon receiving the information, would likely, just as Astrid had predicted at that ball, attempt to contact her to end this war devastating both nations’ civilians.

Lyra nodded, her voice gentle.

"Of course I remember."

Astrid had also detailed exactly what she should do, channel her willpower through the Holy Sword, allowing it to naturally sense its other half, its original source.

"We can try now," Astrid said.

Even if unsuccessful, it would at least confirm whether Monica had brought the sacred relic out of Seville City.

Hearing Astrid, Lyra didn’t hesitate or doubt. She nodded slightly, then channeled mental energy into the Holy Sword.

As the invisible force poured in, the sword, already an extension of Lyra’s body, emitted brilliant light particles.

Had Lyra not deliberately suppressed the sword’s range, in that instant, a blinding pillar of light would have illuminated the entire Liya Tower Fortress, akin to launching hundreds of illumination spells into the sky.

At that exact moment, in the Kingdom of Velys’s knight encampment, a beam of light pierced the heavens, then disappeared just as quickly.

Inside her room, Monica, who had just been bathed in holy light, narrowed her golden eyes slightly, her plump legs under sheer white stockings trembling faintly with surprise.

"Saintess, is everything alright?"

Hearing her attendant knock, Monica quickly regained composure, replying calmly.

"I was praying to the sacred relic. No need to worry."

Ensuring the attendant wouldn’t intrude further, Monica casually cast a soundproof and sightproof arcane barrier, securing her privacy. Then she gazed at the warm, luminous orb before her, gently reaching out.

As one of the closest to the relic, Monica knew how to touch it without being burned by its radiant light.

First, the light affinity had to be at least ’Excellent’...

Meanwhile, Lyra, having released the Holy Sword, shivered slightly, her eyelashes fluttering as she looked at Astrid beside her, speaking softly.

"Astrid, I felt it."

"The other half of the light you mentioned... is in the northwest. Not far away."

Compared to the distant capital Seville, the Cathedral’s sacred relic had now entered a range clearly detectable by the Holy Sword.

"As expected..."

Astrid gave a thoughtful nod, then spoke.

"Lyra, try using your mental energy to communicate with it."

This was how, in the dream after the war, Lyra had used the relic to contact Monica.

Although in the original timeline, Lyra had already been an Arcanist mage then, her range naturally far greater than now.

Mental energy deepened, surrounding light particles converging into shape, gradually forming a luminous mirror.

Through the mirror, Astrid saw a white ribbon tied around a fair neck, and beneath it, delicate collarbones and the majestic curves hidden beneath the nun’s robe.

"Is this... Her Highness, Princess Astrid?"