​Alaric crossed his arms, a grim, dangerous smirk finally breaking through his tense features.

"You are going to take their most sacred relics and use them to paint northern iron."

​"I am the half of the soul they are keeping those relics for anyway," Julian said simply, his eyes flashing with a spark of steel. "And they don’t get a say in how I use my own resources. When we go down into that pass, your steel will be insulated."

This was all to destroy the demons and set the world free. Setting their land free. Profits will not be mentioned in this deal.

"The Holy light will dissolve the void on contact, and it will keep the demons from feeding on your anger or your fear. You will hold weapons that cannot fail you."

​The heavy door to the war chamber knocked twice before swinging open.

​Holy Commander Nadic walked in, his expression completely rigid. He was a man built for battle, but the moment his grey eyes landed on Julian’s clear blue gaze, his hand instinctively tightened over his chest as he gave a low, stiff bow.

Behind him, Pope Clement hovered near the doorway, still trembling from the display in the main hall.

​Julian didn’t give them time to offer formal greetings. He straightened up from the table, his posture perfectly elegant as he took charge of the room.

​"Commander Nadic," Julian began, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Prepare your vats and gather your high priests. We are baptizing the entire northern knight order’s arsenal before the sun goes down. Together with the Holy Knights who can still fight, we are going to the southern pass, and we are putting an end to this once and for all."

Commander Nadic stood rigid in his heavy plate armor, his grey eyes locked onto Julian.

The sheer density of the holy power vibrating in the room made the hair on the back of his neck stand up, but his military mind immediately pushed back against the order.

​Submerging foreign iron into the Sacred Vats? Coating the weapons of unbaptized heretics in the Empire’s most guarded spiritual resource? It went against every line of military law and religious doctrine he had sworn his life to protect.

Nadic’s gaze flicked briefly toward Pope Clement, who was still hovering near the doorframe like a ghost, completely silent and unable to offer any guidance.

​What is the Pope thinking? Nadic thought, his chest tightening. The Saint might carry the light, but to hand over our sacred vats to outsiders...

​"I understand you are skeptical, Commander," Julian said, his smooth, precise voice cutting directly into Nadic’s train of thought.

He didn’t look angry; he simply looked at the knight with absolute clarity.

"And I understand you have no reason to trust my strategic choices just yet. But trust in the power you feel radiating from me right now. Trust in the direct directives I received from the god you serve."

​Nadic shifted his stance slightly, his gauntlets creaking, but he remained silent, listening.

​Julian took a slow step forward, the vibrant blue of his eyes holding the soldier’s gaze.

"You are a knight and a commander of men." Julian said, "But I am certain you do not like war, especially a war where you are currently on the losing side. The southern pass is overflowing, and standard methods are failing your lines."

​Julian stopped at the edge of the table and extended his right hand toward Nadic, palm upward. It was a simple, open gesture, completely devoid of the haughty arrogance the church elders usually displayed.

​"So work with me," Julian said, his voice dropping into a deeper, resonant register that seemed to echo slightly against the stone walls. "Join me so we can swiftly put an end to this war, and so no one else under your command has to die."

​Nadic stared at the extended hand. As he looked into Julian’s unyielding blue eyes, a profound wave of reverence washed over his chest. It wasn’t the superficial fear he had felt during the lightning strike in the hall; it was a deep, instinctual devotion.

The man standing before him didn’t look like a political puppet to be placed on a display shelf, nor did he sound like a simple scholar anymore.

​Julian’s tone had changed. He no longer just spoke like a learned tutor delivering a lecture. He spoke like...

​"A savior," Lucius’s small voice whispered from the corner bench.

​The quiet words slipped out of the little boy’s mouth before anyone else could speak.

The entire room turned slightly to look at the child. Lucius blinked, his blue eyes wide as he clung to Alaric’s tunic, not entirely realizing the weight of what he had just muttered into the silence.

​But nobody disagreed. The word hung heavily in the air, and every single person in the room felt its truth. Right now, Julian felt like a savior that was entirely out of this world.

​Alaric kept his hand flat on Lucius’s back, his own blue eyes fixed entirely on Julian’s profile. He knew exactly why Julian looked like that.

This was what it meant to fully sync with a deity.

The baseline purity of Alias’s soul was flowing through Julian’s mortal frame without any restriction, elevating his simple scholar’s presence into something terrifyingly magnificent.

Alaric felt a familiar, ancient awe pulling at his chest, but his grip on his son remained firm. He would be the weapon that protected this light, no matter how bright it burned.

​Commander Nadic let out a long, heavy breath, the rigid tension finally draining out of his shoulders. He took a decisive step forward, reached out, and firmly gripped Julian’s hand, sealing the pact.

​"The Sacred Vats will be opened, Saint Julian," Nadic declared, his rough voice full of a sudden, absolute loyalty. "The High Priests will begin the preparations immediately. Every piece of northern iron will be coated before the sun hits the horizon."

​"Thank you, Commander," Julian said, offering a faint, genuine smile as he withdrew his hand. He turned his attention back to the maps laid out on the oak table, his mind moving back into a practical, tactical gear. "Now, let us map out the exact terrain of the pass. We need to know exactly where the tears in the earth are largest so we can secure the vanguard."

​Pope Clement quickly stepped into the room, his silver robes rustling as he hurried to assist Nadic with the documents, desperate to be useful now that the path was set.

The church was no longer in control; Julian was the one directing this march, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.