Holy Marshal Law states that when this law is invoked over an area, no more than three people can gather in the streets in one place. Kids must stay inside their homes, as should other people unless it's an emergency.
Under this law, the ruling authority has all the right to arrest any man as long as there is even the slightest suspicion. It allows the church's authorities to supersede the authority of the nobles of the land—be it a baron or a king.
The law can only be invoked by the Inquisitor High Lord, Saint Wazir, Saint Sceptre or the Pope. If a strong enough wizard is available, they may also deploy a wide area surveillance rune that shall tell the caster whenever someone dares escape the designated blocked area.
Inquisitor High Lord did precisely that as he used thin lines of fire under the grounds of the entire city to spread the rune. The rune scheme for it was simple, but it requires a vast amount of magic as usually the need for this magic arises over a large area.
The people, however, didn't understand what was happening as they had never seen such magic. They thought they were being attacked by the Holy Inquisition, the branch of the church known to be cruel to heathens.
"I repeat, return to your home and ensure that you don't needlessly roam in the streets!" Inquisitor High Lord boomed.
Sir Hans took over from there. "You heard the Lord Inquisitor. Calmly return to your homes. Unless it's an emergency, you must not appear outside. Go."
The Inquisitors respectfully started to order the men and women around, telling them to return. They tried to ensure that nobody tried to run as it might cause a chain reaction and a stampede.
Sylvester nodded in approval, seeing the work go smoothly. "Lord Inquisitor, allow me to head outside the City to gather my small crusader army. I shall meet you near the southern gate."
"Proceed as you may, blessed bard."
Sylvester faced Bishop Lazark. "You should come with me, Bishop. They are likely to feel at ease seeing both of us together. And we must ensure they have not forgotten that you being a necromancer does not change the hierarchy."
Leaving Felix and Gabriel with the Inquisitor High Lord, Sylvester proceeded to head outside the city. He could already see the Inquisitors working according to the plan and taking over the gates of the City.
They would inform the city's guards what was happening, show their holy decree, and proceed as needed. Then, outside the city wall, in a river away from the port, Lady Aurora waited in a ship to react to any emergencies.
Sylvester bypassed them and rode his horse to reach a small camp erected by the crusades away from the city walls. "Attention!"
The men were already prepared as they had received words to be ready. A few sub-commanders kept them in formation and discipline.
"At ease!" Sylvester stopped in front of them. They only numbered nearly nine hundred, as the rest had died in the last attack on Bloodling. "It's good to see all of you. Today, you are going to be a part of history. You all are now under my permanent command as I have been conferred the rank of Grand Crusader by his eminence himself.
"According to this, now our duties are not only to help other crusaders but also to oversee that other crusaders are not breaking the laws—causing more harm to the realm than good. So tell me, my men, will you dutifully serve as my Crusaders?"
"Till our last breath!" One of them shouted.
"Till the end!"
"Till the end!"
They all started chanting. Their reverence didn't come from nothing. They had seen Sylvester defeat Bloodling all alone. They had heard him sing the hymns, and they had seen him bask them in the warmth of Solis.
They were staunch supporters of Sylvester because, in their eyes, he was the incarnation of Solis. The sun that shines the brightest, even at night.
"Till the end!"
Sylvester raised his palm and made them calm down. "I know you all are not yet well armoured, as some of you lost it in the past battle. So worry not, for I won't take you in a battle ill-prepared. Today, we're here to arrest a heathen inside the Green City, who may just be a noble. So, along with five thousand Inquisitors, and Inquisitor High Lord, we shall conduct an investigation.
"You are to be my loyal soldiers and secure my back and front. You are to march in the city's streets with might and pride, for not just me, Inquisitor High Lord shall also watch you."
Sylvester could smell their excitement and an overwhelming sense of worship. These men were his now, and as long as he played his cards right, they'd remain so until their death.
"Now, with discipline, you are to march behind me," Sylvester ordered. "Begin!"
Out of nine hundred crusaders, nearly seven hundred of them had horses. The rest were too poor to have one or had lost one.
Soon, through the wide streets of the magnificent City that was the capital of Gracia Kingdom, the songs of the lord and the sound of the marching hooves echoed. They all followed Sylvester in four neat columns.
"Halt!" Sylvester roared and showed his fist in the sky.
In front of Sylvester was the Inquisitor High Lord, with Felix and Gabriel standing on the ground. Since the man was too big for a horse, he had no choice but to walk, as his carriage was also too big for the streets.
Sylvester and Bishop Lazark also got off and walked with them.
The Gracia Royal Palace was in the middle of the river delta on which the entire city was situated. It was an enormous city, and similarly big was the castle complex. The complex spanned the east and west edge of the delta, leaving only a small space on the west side for people to move north of the city.
The complex was entirely walled and consisted of a few castles, the biggest one being the main royal castle. The walls of the castles were made with some green substance added to them, not to mention there was a lot of greenery. There were trees, grass and vines all around.
As Sylvester and the rest made their way up, the people would secretly watch them from the cracks of the doors and windows while the city guards would simply kneel at their sight, knowing too well that obstructing them would cause doom.
Eventually, they arrived at the main entry gate into the castle complexes. From there on, the Gracia Royal Knights were in charge of security. And they dared not to open the gates even after seeing them arrive.
"What business brings yo-"
Before the knight in green-ish silver armour could speak, Inquisitor High Lord pointed his metal staff at the front.
Boom!
The gates were slammed open without breaking them apart. The royal guards were shocked and triggered, so they unsheathed their swords, for they were sworn to the royal house.
Woosh!
But, the crusaders replied by unsheathing their swords as well and taking a tactical formation by quickly reaching in front of Sylvester and Inquisitor High Lord. They made three rows of horses and roared in unison.
"Dare raise your swords on the Lord Inquisitor and the holy Bard? Kneel, or you shan't have another head for a meal!"
"Stop! Please! In the name of the lord, stop!"
Just then, a man came running from inside the castle complex and started slapping the royal knights away to force them to lay down the sword.
"Oh, lord! Forgive these fools, esteemed holy guests. They just arrived here on their evening shift. I am Count Harvard Zeelif, the Prima of King Harold Gracia. Please, come in. Everything here belongs to none but faith!"
Sylvester, at this point, felt his suspicion peak whenever he heard or saw a prima of any noble. This is because the prima was the second in command of any noble and held the most power to do damage if they went corrupt. So, to avoid a situation like Count Jartel, these Primas were his first suspects.
Sylvester whispered towards the Lord Inquisitor. "My lord, I can feel he's lying. His eyes twitch, and his nose creases—a sign of a dishonest man. We should keep our guards up."
The big man didn't say anything until he looked at the Count. Then, he took a step back. "You take the lead, young bard. Show me the miracles of your knowledge—today, let these lowly nobles see your light and acknowledge—your blessings from the lord."
'Good.' Sylvester was waiting for this and took the lead.
"Count Zeelif, please guide us to the King's palace. We have urgent business to conduct."
"Of course."
So the crusaders moved to the back again and stayed vigilant. Meanwhile, Sylvester was in the lead this time as he walked to the front centre. He kept his senses on alert to smell if there was any danger.
But when they were near a castle, he started to chant a hymn under his breath to create the halo behind his head. The reason was to intensely affect the King's mind and force him to think that Solis had come to punish him.
Behind him, the crusaders became frantic as they saw their beloved lord bard shine just as brightly as they remembered in the past. To them, this was the meaning of their life.
Knock Knock!
At last, they arrived at the last gate, beyond which was a moat, then crossing the bridge, they entered the main castle of the King.
"This way, lord bard!" Count Zeelif took them towards the throne room. The man, with pale skin, blonde hair and a fat body, was sweating like he was sitting on a pan. It appeared Sylvester's warmth was too much for him.
Bam!
The Count pushed the last gate and led them inside the throne room of King Gracia. Sylvester was in awe, but he didn't let it affect his mind as he continued to chant.
Ignoring the high ceiling, various chandeliers, shining pale green walls, silk curtains and beautiful wall engravings, Sylvester followed the Count until they stood in front of the large heightened throne with an abundance of gold and green emeralds.
Sylvester closed his eyes and sang a short hymn before even looking at the man sitting on the throne.
♫O' King of the Greens, your ornaments that sheens.
What use are they when nothing they mean?
Choose wisely, for the path you stand in between.
One leads to dust, and the other to a life more serene.♫
Thud!
"Oh, bard of Solis—I surrender myself to your feet!"
Sylvester looked down and saw the King, in his regal gown and crown, lying on his belly on the ground, forcibly holding Sylvester's right leg over his head with a face full of tears and a frown.
It appeared that the King had seen his death creep near. The scents—it reeked of nothing but merely sent chills and vibrations of fear.
Today, witnessed by a thousand—Sylvester, a mere seventeen-year-old boy who could sing—stepped on a king.
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