Otaku Witch

War is always cruel, no matter how it is embellished with slogans and reasons, it remains an immutable fact.

At the gates of the City of Sin, rivers of blood flowed this day.

This was not a metaphor, but a literal depiction. The ground had indeed begun to show hints of red—the color of fresh blood.

Above the blood-soiled earth, the Church's Expeditionary Force was entangled in a deadly struggle with the "Wicked people" who had sounded the horn of rebellion. As symbols of light and justice, the Clerics' Armor was mostly silvery white, whereas the Rebels clad in Mechanical Battle Armor lacked such ostentation, their gear uniformly draped in black.

If one were to look down upon this battlefield from above, the interweaving of black and white would seem like the battling dragons of a Go game board.

And at this moment, both sides' players were waiting with tension for the outcome of this battle.

After all, neither of the two strategists who had reached a standoff dared to make the first move. They were waiting for their respective reinforcements to arrive and help break the deadlock.

Sophia's heart was particularly tense, for she had originally believed that the Church's regular army would quickly suppress the motley force of Mortals—yet reality had not unfolded as smoothly as she anticipated, and the Church's forces were locked in a bitter fight.

If one were to consider individual quality or personal strength, the Church's army undeniably held an overwhelming advantage. Every Cleric was a veteran Transcendent, a professional warrior with abundant combat experience, far surpassing the battlefield novices they faced.

But war is not a series of individual duels. In full-scale conflict, it's about coordination, attrition, logistics, and more. In a full-blown war, unless one is a monster capable of facing entire armies alone, personal combat prowess isn't that important.

Nevertheless, as a regular army, the Church's Expeditionary Force made no mistakes in terms of team coordination or supplies. Despite this, they struggled, for their opponents' strength was beyond their expectations.

These opponents were far from a ragtag army. Their coordination seemed excessively perfect, with clear roles in defense, attack, and support. True, the Rebels were a bit flustered at the war's outset, but soon their synergy flowed as if an invisible hand had suddenly taken control, uniting their efforts.

And as if impeccable coordination weren't enough, their adversaries were also astonishingly wealthy.

Indeed, as representatives of the world's top military power, the Church's well-funded troops were envied by their foes for their high pay, quality provisions, and state-of-the-art gear. In the past, the roles had always been reversed, but now, suddenly, the Church's soldiers felt impoverished.

Setting aside the scarcity of steel, how had these Rebels managed to equip every soldier with Iron Battle Armor, and not just any armor, but advanced Mechanical Battle Armor with strange Strength—far superior to the Knight's Armor the Clerics wore?

And it wasn't just the high-quality Armor—the Rebels each carried a full supply of Magic Potions. When the Paladins finally breached the intimidating enemy armor, hoping to inflict serious damage, they suddenly heard a mechanical noise emanate from inside the Rebels' peculiar Armor.

["Host life signs declining, emergency aid mode activated."]

Following this announcement, a syringe emerged from the neck of the armor and a Healing Potion was injected into its wearer. Instantly, what should have been a grievous injury became a minor one, and the worker seemed even more fierce, fueled by the potion's effects.

This left the Church's Clerics rather dumbfounded.

After all, Magic Potions were even more precious than metal armor. Difficult to concoct and expensive, these potions required special channels to purchase and even had shelf-lives, unlike durable gear.

As professional soldiers who lived on the knife's edge, the Clerics would grudgingly buy a Magic Potion or two as lifelines. And because of the rarity and cost, they were reluctant to use them unless absolutely necessary.

But on the other side, not only did they consume potions for serious injuries, but they were also using them for minor ones. And what Level were their Magic Potions, to act faster than the ones the Clerics purchased?

Similarly injured, the Clerics who forcibly consumed their lesser potions grumbled in frustration. They were beginning to suspect they had been sold fakes, seeing their enemies' potions not only heal but also enhance strength immediately, while their own provided no combat power boost and took longer to heal—which was never going to outlast their adversaries.