In July of Star Calendar 1352, the Tower of Sages suddenly announced that one of the seventy-two Demon Kings might be reviving, calling the empire to enter a state of war readiness.
In August of the same year, war broke out.
The border city of Sallas was struck by a super-tier magic attack and was wiped off the map.
The entire nation was shocked.
The empire declared a state of war and began reinforcing the borders.
October of Star Calendar 1353.
Even though autumn had not yet fully passed, tiny snowflakes were already falling from the sky.
This unusual weather made Selina frown.
Over a year had passed since the war began, and a mix of conflicting news came from the border—or rather, the front lines.
The town’s population fluctuated, sometimes swelled by refugees fleeing the front, other times by local men being forcibly conscripted.
Grandpa Laite said that in history, conscription of ordinary civilians was rare unless the regular army had been completely wiped out.
Strangely, the town’s garrison had received no deployment orders and remained stationed where they were.
Marching troops passing through town had become routine.
Most were regular imperial soldiers, occasionally wounded soldiers from the front were sent to the town’s church.
Grandpa Laite was at Tier 3, limited by his talent, so his healing spells weren’t very high-level.
By then, Selina had self-taught herself Tier 3 healing magic, so she took priority in using healing spells on the seriously injured, while those with lighter wounds received Grandpa Laite’s herbal treatment.
But faced with so many injuries, the medicines normally used for diagnosing townspeople were quickly exhausted.
No help for it, even at his age he had to go up the mountain to gather herbs.
Milia’s Tier 1 healing magic was too ordinary, so she chose to follow Laite to find medicinal herbs in the mountains, leaving Selina alone to stanch bleeding for the wounded while waiting for her mana to recover.
Once she had recovered a bit, she would find the patients she had marked as critically injured and cast healing spells on them.
The town’s location was neither close to the front nor far from it—not very far either.
This period was extremely tough.
Laite even wrote to the church headquarters requesting reinforcements of priests or nuns who could use healing magic, but unfortunately there was no response.
Fortunately, the front-line setbacks were only temporary.
Rumor had it that the empire finally decided to deploy the Order Knights to stabilize the battle situation.
From that moment on, the number of wounded at the church dwindled; they were gradually sent to the rear for treatment.
The front-line situation stabilized, and for now, no more wounded were brought in.
The few members of this small church breathed a sigh of relief.
Facing the unusual snow falling from the sky, Selina spread her hands and let the “snowflakes” fall into her palms.
“Selina~”
Laite called her name gently.
He hobbled out of the church leaning on a cane, having broken his leg while gathering herbs on the mountain a few days earlier.
After Selina’s treatment, he had mostly recovered, but he still needed some time to recuperate, hence the cane.
That cane was whittled by her own hands, knife-cut by knife-cut.
“Grandpa Laite, why aren’t you inside? Your leg…”
“It’s fine, nothing serious.”
Laite waved his hand, refusing Selina’s help, and looked up at the sky.
“I don’t know how long it’s been since I last saw this sight.”
“Grandpa Laite, this isn’t snow.”
“Yes, this isn’t snow,” Laite sighed.
“It’s the ash from the soldiers’ cremated bodies.”
Selina’s pupils contracted slightly.
Her expression twitched, but overall remained unchanged.
The ash falling from the sky came from the bodies of front-line soldiers.
The north wind blew them into the empire’s territory instead of the uninhabited northern wastes.
Was this some kind of mercy from heaven?
The conflict between humans and demons was irreconcilable.
This war was inevitable, happening every few decades.
Grandpa Laite seemed to have experienced one when he was young.
Most people were still troubled by this strange snow.
But life had to go on.
Although Laite’s previous letter to the central church had not brought any reinforcements, it did get them some subsidies.
Combined with the church’s dwindling numbers, their living conditions improved somewhat.
Laite bought an old goat from a townsperson, thinking that Selina was at a growing age, so he stewed some goat soup to nourish her.
Selina was lost in thought, staring at the sky.
When she heard Laite call her to dinner, she withdrew her thoughts and went inside.
She wasn’t surprised to see the goat soup, but since they were used to plain meals, such a lavish dish was relatively rare.
Two roasted goat legs were specially prepared by Laite, one for her and one for Milia.
As for himself, he explained that his old teeth couldn’t chew them anymore.
The meat wasn’t that tough, and the gamey smell was covered by the spices.
Perhaps because they hadn’t seen meat in a long time, Milia also ate more, saving the tenderest parts for Little Paul.
‘She’s become a mature wife and mother now,’ Selina thought as she watched.
After the war broke out, prices had risen significantly, so that old goat had nearly used up all their allowance.
An entire goat couldn’t be finished in one meal, so Laite made jerky from the rest, taking a little each day to satisfy their cravings.
This peaceful life continued for a long time.
After the initial chaos of the war ended, everything returned to normal, including the church’s congregants.
Most who came were women whose husbands had been forcibly conscripted.
However, conscription wasn’t too harsh; at least they could send letters home.
Joining the army came with pay, food, and lodging.
If it weren’t for the danger, many would have wanted to enlist.
But not everyone wrote to their families.
After the first few months, when pay and letters still arrived, there was no news afterward.
Eight times out of ten, they had died in battle.
Selina didn’t say it outright; she just comforted them.
Little Paul also took part, and some congregants joked that this tea-haired child might be her future husband.
Selina just smiled.
‘Absolutely not,’ she thought. ‘
I still have to get my mom back.’
But time had flown by—five years had passed, and she was now fourteen.
Grandpa Laite said that when she turned fifteen, he would have an old friend recommend her to the Central Church as a candidate for priest.
She wondered what kind of city the rumored Holy Capital would be.
Maybe it would be similar to the main city of the Soul Battle Continent.
After lunch, another group of believers came in the afternoon to pray.
They were the same women who had no news of their husbands.
Besides doing her best to comfort them, there was nothing else Selina could do.
Just as she was trying her best to soothe the believers, a familiar tremor came from outside.
Selina knew—it was the Order Knights.
Five tall iron cans stood at the church entrance.
In all her years at the church, she had seen Order Knights visit from time to time, but never more than three.
Seeing five at once was very rare.
They strode in.
At over two meters tall, Selina had to look up at them.
The surrounding believers instinctively felt fear and retreated to the corners of the church.
Then she noticed the equipment of these five Order Knights: two shield-bearers, two wielding battle-axes, and one holding a war lance that could also serve as a staff, with a banner hanging from it.
The knight holding the banner had medals adorning his silver breastplate, along with signs of battle damage, marking him as the squad’s captain.
The silver helmet turned, scanning the surroundings.
A low voice came from within: “Who is the priest?”
“I am.”
Laite walked slowly to the knight with Selina’s support.
The Order Knight took heavy steps toward Laite.
His tall stature made him look down at the elderly man.
“According to the Imperial Conscription Act, Emergency Clause 9, your church personnel are hereby taken over.”