The instant the holy light array was disrupted, Ambrose teleported into the city and unleashed a massive area-of-effect Darkness spell.

Thick black fog swallowed the entirety of Sandshadow. It was more than pitch-black: people couldn't even see their hands even when placed directly before their eyes.

But the magical interference Catherine had left behind could only disrupt the formation for a few seconds. The holy light array quickly resumed operation and immediately locked onto Ambrose, an undead radiating darkness from head to toe.

Ambrose had long wished to witness the Lyon Empire's faith-conversion formation. Now that he experienced it firsthand, he had to admit that it was formidable.

The holy power already converted and stored within the array surged to life the moment he appeared. Dozens of radiant blades condensed from pure light and shot toward him. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

The former Ambrose would never have dared endure such an assault.

Fortunately, he was no longer the same. The Golden Throne flared at full output, reinforcing his arcane shield. It withstood the relentless bombardment of holy light.

But with every blade deflected, a sliver of gold was shaved from the throne, hundreds, even thousands of gold coins vanishing with each impact.

As the holy swords kept coming, Ambrose's gold disappeared with a cheerful clink.

The loss of gold didn't concern him. He was wealthy now. He even had the leisure to carefully analyze the structure of the holy blades mid-assault.

What genius had conceived this method of transforming intangible faith into tangible holy light?

Such power should belong to the gods alone. For the Lord of Dawn, this ought to border on blasphemy.

Yet the deity permitted it. Lyon was truly favored.

After enduring the barrage for a short while, Ambrose slashed downward with a gesture. A wall of earth erupted from the ground. Instantly, the force of the holy assault weakened by more than half.

"Oh, I see."

More spells flew from his fingertips. Soon, crisscrossing earthen walls spread across Sandshadow. Viewed from above, they formed an entirely new magical structure, sealing the city within a secondary array.

The faith permeating the streets was pinned in place like butterflies nailed to a board. No longer could it circulate freely.

Ambrose even took out a notebook and jotted down the resulting structural patterns. He suspected Lyon's other cities operated on similar principles. Sell this to Black Rose, and today's expenses would be fully reimbursed.

He was cheerfully calculating his future profits when a different kind of holy light ignited in a distant corner of the city.

It was as fine as a filament, yet as brilliant as the sun. Wherever it passed, darkness parted cleanly. The black fog blanketing the city split evenly and dissipated at once.

The holy beam unraveled Ambrose's Darkness spell with astonishing precision. "Impressive," he murmured.

Extending his perception, he located the source.

As expected, it was the Silvermoon Knight. He had never left Sandshadow. He had merely concealed himself, observing in silence.

The old man looked as though a strong breeze might send him flying, but he radiated immense threat. In a true battle, even if Ambrose managed to outlast him until his body failed, Ambrose himself would likely be forced to resurrect in a phylactery.

The Silvermoon Knight's expression was grave. He had intervened because the prolonged darkness would inevitably cause civilian panic and unnecessary casualties.

He had intended this as a trial for Sandshadow's military, not a calamity for its people.

But his intervention signified something else as well: the test was over. Sandshadow had failed utterly.

Without prompting, the Silvermoon Knight rose into the air and addressed the city in a voice that echoed overhead: "There is no need for alarm. What just occurred was a military exercise. Return home and await official notice. Anyone exploiting the chaos will face severe punishment."

Though he lacked youthful vigor, his voice carried enough authority to steady the populace.

The genuine militia remaining in the city swiftly suppressed the few opportunists who had tried to incite disorder under Allen's command. Then Allen, face pale with shame, entered the Temple of Light in Sandshadow.

The Silvermoon Knight was there. So was Ambrose, now in human form.

Upon entering, Allen saw Simon and more than a hundred paladins kneeling on the floor, heads lowered in humiliation. And seated above them were not only the Silvermoon Knight, but also the lich.

From another angle, it looked as though over a hundred paladins were bowing in submission to the lich.

Allen's breath grew heavy.

He did not yet know the full story, but he knew this scene would be recorded in Lyon's history. These paladins would stink of infamy for generations. Every bard across the continent would relish the tale.

When Allen entered, the Silvermoon Knight snorted coldly. "Allen Watson. Come here. Kneel with them."

Allen dared not argue. He moved to the end of the line and knelt.

Only then did the Silvermoon Knight speak. "Now that you are all present, I will explain what has transpired. It was I who invited Master Megaman to assist in this test. And I am deeply disappointed. In less than a single day, you lost Sandshadow City. If this had not been an exercise, do you understand what the consequences would have been?!"

His voice trembled with fury. "Tens of thousands of your compatriots would have died because of your foolishness!"

Emotion caused his face to flush crimson. He broke into a violent coughing fit, each convulsion sounding as though it tore his lungs apart.

Allen kept his head bowed, fists clenched. Of everyone present, he bore the greatest responsibility. The Silvermoon Knight had entrusted Sandshadow to him.

Sandshadow had fallen in merely a single day.

Tears shimmered in his eyes. Words failed him.

But not everyone shared in his self-reproach. Simon, once so eager to carve his name into history, clenched his jaw and protested, "General, this isn't entirely our fault. Who could have anticipated such cunning from a lich?"

Ambrose chuckled. "What undead aren't cunning? Have you spent your life fighting only shambling corpses who can barely walk?"

Rage flared among the paladins. Simon flushed scarlet.

His excuse sounded weak, even to him.

He tried again. "And that elf! She impersonated the elven queen and used enchantment magic to cloud our minds. That power was surely legendary. We couldn't have defended against it!"

The Silvermoon Knight nearly fainted from anger.

"Silence! How dare you slander Her Majesty Queen Catherine so casually?!"

Simon goggled. "General... you mean... that woman truly was the Elven Queen?!"

Who would believe that the elven queen would cooperate with a lich to lure them into a trap? Even the Lord of Dawn might recoil at such a tale.

Seeing the Silvermoon Knight on the verge of collapse—and mindful that payment had yet to be delivered—Ambrose intervened.

"Allow me to clarify." He folded his hands casually. "First, Queen Catherine's identity is beyond doubt. She did not deceive you. She participated in this exercise at the Silvermoon Knight's invitation. Her role was not to mislead you."

"Lies!" Simon leapt up. "You staged a battle with her to make us believe you were grievously wounded! Is that not deception?"

"In the script, the lich you were meant to confront truly was grievously wounded. If you had slain me during your second assault, while I was in a ‘severely injured state,' you would have won. Reflect carefully. During that second engagement, wasn't the majority of my power restrained by Catherine?"

Simon hesitated. "And didn't you fail because you fell into my magical traps? Did Catherine not warn you beforehand to watch your footing?"

All this was true. They had barely approached before triggering the traps and being captured. They had not even clearly seen the duel between the legendary-tier combatants.

Had the exercise truly begun with the lich in a weakened state? Had they truly been unable to defeat even a weakened legendary undead?

Simon struggled. "Then what about the fake phylactery? Without that, we would never have committed all our forces!"

Ambrose's grin widened. "In the script, the phylactery was real. Had you slain the ‘wounded' lich, and possessed the phylactery, I would not have been able to resurrect. Thus, you would have successfully defended Sandshadow. Do you understand?"

Simon did not wish to believe him. But given Catherine's presence, something inside him wavered. The elven queen cooperating with a lich had always seemed implausible. If this were part of a structured exercise, it made sense.

He seized upon that explanation.

The Silvermoon Knight narrowed his eyes at Ambrose. The lich lied as easily as he breathed. In truth, he had absolutely conspired with the elven queen to deceive these hot-blooded youths—yet with a few sentences, he had absolved her entirely.

Was he protecting her reputation? If so, their relationship might be even closer than suspected.

The thought made the old knight's fingers tremble.

Lord of Dawn preserve us.

The elven queen and a lich... Had he simply grown too old for this era?

Ambrose's motive was simpler. Catherine was useful. Tarnish her reputation now, and future schemes would lose potency.

In this exercise, she had to remain pure and blameless, merely a balancing force to give these young men a fighting chance against a legendary undead.

Just as he thought the matter settled, Allen rose. "No. The formation was disrupted, allowing you to breach the city's defenses. Weren't the traps interfering with the holy light array left behind by Queen Catherine? If she stood fully on our side in the script, why would she aid you in planting them?"

Ambrose looked at Allen. The young man he had faced had indeed grown sharper.

But Ambrose's expression did not change. "You're overthinking things. Before Catherine ever entered Sandshadow, I had already infiltrated the city once. It was during that infiltration that I encountered your general and received his invitation to participate in this exercise. Before departing, I arranged every means necessary to breach the city."

He turned to the Silvermoon Knight. "Sir Knight, swear upon the Holy Light. Are my words untrue?"

The Silvermoon Knight was keenly aware that every sentence Ambrose spoke was technically true. He was simply lying by omission.

After a brief hesitation, he nodded. "Everything he has said is correct."

These youths were too arrogant. They needed a crushing lesson, one so complete they could cling to no excuse.

With the Silvermoon Knight's guarantee, the paladins fell silent. One by one, they lowered their heads, wishing that the floor would swallow them whole.

Ambrose quite enjoyed the sight of over a hundred paladins kneeling before him. But enough was enough. It was time to collect his payment.