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Overlord of biblical proportions: The new Three-Sided War (17)
🕑 Added 2024-08-13 07:29:13 +0000 UTCMiki Hyoudou’s current life is a very idyllic one. After all, how else could it be? Miki Hyoudou had met God, His Son, and had received answers to all the questions that a person could have, now she served God and was protected by His infinite mercy from the impending end of the world. What, in this scenario, could be less than perfect?
Though Miki couldn't remember anything before she turned into a vessel for God's commandments and guidance, she knows better.
While she physically retained memories of her past, her family, husband, and son of course, because loss of reason and memory disturbances were inadmissible when she served according to God's decisions. However, any feelings and weight she could put to that past, had completely evaporated from her mind, her memory, and the emotions associated with it dissociating from her persona entirely.
Rather than being her lived memory, It simply felt like she had watched a very immersive movie before then returning to the real world.
Even so, Miki did not like thinking about her past, as it is almost entirely contradictory to her current being. From her current perspective, her past, Miki considered it, if not repugnant, then at least ‘strange’, so much so that it bordered on revulsion.
Quarrels with a loving family? Such a thing was anathema to Miki. After all, how could she have any quarrels with those who stand beside you in service to His will? Weren't they her allies, moving towards a common goal?
Naturally, a proper order and ranks should be established as all things in life, but such an ‘imbalance’ and its unbreakability didn't provoke any rejection in her and couldn't cause quarrels or disputes. For it was a natural order ordained by God.
Family? The family unit, hers that is, had a right to exist by the will of Supreme Beings. But it was absolutely insignificant in the grand scheme of Lord Momonga’s plan. Truly her worst sin and one that she would need an entire life to repent for, was that her family, in the past, did not support Lord Momonga’s great plan to their fullest capabilities.
After all, Miki couldn't make her family sacrifice themselves for His plans, then the blame for this lay on herself.
And of course, the strangest thing was the idea of ‘free will’, some wicked fictional idea that seems strangely important to the past Miki. Of course, there’s no such thing as ‘free will’, nothing more than a philosophical question, about which His Son, Lord Pandora’s Actor, speculated on for many minutes.
But the idea was that if Lord Momonga is omniscient, and he is, undoubtedly, and all the things happening in the world were only part of his grand vision, then free will did not exist. For, after all, Lord Momonga could with each of his decisions and directions determine the outcome of any event and guide the actions of any goal in the direction he needed. In other words, what lower beings believed to be ‘freedom of will’ was just another part of Lord Momonga's plan.
Hence, any thought of a person being able to act ‘freely’, without fitting into the framework of His great plan, was nothing but blasphemous.
The simple thought that in the past Miki believed her behavior to be ‘free’ was absurd and at the same time offensive. However, His Son forgave Miki's sin, for as it was said in the Holy Scripture, when another of Lord Momonga’s Son had spoken his wisdom.
"Forgive them, Father, their sins, for they do not know what they are doing…" Muttering such a hopeful message, one where Miki could find absolution, she was the happiest she had ever been.
How could Miki be anything but happy? Being so near to God, forgiven of her sins for her repentance, all the while she was in service to Lord Momonga, how could she be unhappy?
Even if her function was just to prepare food, clean the house, and read the Bible, for the rest of her life, she would be happy, for such was the established order. Even in the Heavenly Kingdom, that is, in what His Son called ‘Nazarick’, there existed maids and cooks who shared the same duties that Miki does.
So, Miki's actions, though they made up an infinitesimal part of the Divine plan, still fit into it.
And therefore, Miki was happy.
Moreover, Miki could closely observe His deeds, wasn't this a blessing in itself? As Miki knew from His Son, her position was greatly enviable. Many who knew of her duties and position wanted almost nothing else but to be in her place, just so that they could serve the Lord and Supreme Beings better.
And so, this envy was not like those of petty humans, that is the desire to possess what another possesses, but was the desire to earn equal honor with their own efforts and His grace. The desire to give more of themselves for the glory of Lord Momonga, rather than desire to get more for their own base needs.
For life without service to Lord Momonga was meaningless in its essence.
Undeniably, the ignorant, not knowing the truth about this world, could cling to their own meaningless delusions and find the strength to trudge in their lives from day to day, but could this be called happiness? Meaninglessness, having no end and beginning, only having suffering at its core?
The Church, as befitting of her Lord’s past work, tried to help such woefully lost lambs, to give them a symbol of faith, to give meaning in their meaningless lives. Sadly, as they had strayed from the true Faith, that of worship of Lord Momonga, they had been woefully inadequate.
However, perhaps it was to be expected, the church, no matter if it was built by His disciples, was after all, only a creation of human hands. No matter how much the mere mortals tried to approach the understanding of His word and His plan, in the end they were doomed to never find the real understanding of it.
That was why Miki was happy, for she was given the opportunity to see in first-person the real, full, plan of the Lord, as it unfolds all over the world at the same time.
Not to understand it, of course, as no one could fully understand the perfection of His plans, but to simply touch on it, to see and praise its splendor as it unfolds.
And so, when two high school girls had appeared on the doors of her home, Miki could even remember their names, made familiar to her from the stories of her past son’s exploits. And of course, how could she forget them, when she had pointed her in the right direction… And as expected of her Lord Momonga, Miki could see His handiwork.
Katase and Murayama, and what changes her Lord had wrought!
While in Murayama’s eyes, Miki could still see that she had retained her strength and inner core even after her eyes were opened to the truth, a commendable feat, albeit to no interest to Miki. No, it was in Katase’s eyes that she found what interested her more.
For it had reminded Miki of her own, her past self from a few days ago, before she had found salvation in service of her Lord. The version of herself from a few days ago was lost, broken, and completely confused on how she was supposed to live in this new reality she had found herself in. A world which suddenly had turned out to be much bigger and much stranger than she had previously assumed.
Before she was resurrected by Lord Momonga’s grace she was just as lost, yet Lord Pandora’s Actor reached out to her and helped her as a true Christian, enlightening her about the realities of this world.
And now Katase needed someone who could reach out to her.
Of course, Lord Momonga was with her, and Miki would never think to put herself on the same level with Lord Momonga. But after serving them tea, Miki had found that Lord Momonga was focusing on talking with Murayama instead of Katase, who looked less like a person but a lost sheep. Her eyes were unfocused as her head moved to and fro, as if to try to find anything she could focus on, completely lost to the world around her.
Of course, this was by no means because Lord Momonga could not help Katase and even less because He did not notice her state. The fact that He was glancing at Katase, periodically mentioning her and getting in response only a little understandable mooing spoke of the fact that Lord Momonga instead chose another plan for the girl, but what exactly?
As His Son had regaled her, interpreting the divine plans of Lord Momonga was one of the most important tests of service to Him. Like how the Lord Momonga's mind penetrated reality and directed it according to the path that is pleasing to Him, the will of His followers consisted in correctly understanding and interpreting His orders.
Of course, Lord Momonga could not make any mistake, but for a follower to make a mistake in serving God was unthinkable.
And so, looking at the ongoing dialogue, which eventually ended with a satisfied Murayama and a completely broken and lost Katase, Miki was obliged to try and to understand His intentions.
What was Lord Momonga's plan for the girl so lost in her new reality, just as lost as Miki once was?
And with that one last realization, immediately Miki was able to figure it out.
The reason why she, Miki herself, was not sent away or taken under absolute control by Lord Momonga, but was simply left with a list of quite insignificant instructions like ‘live as you did before’.
When Miki was lost, His Son helped her. And so, now, when confronted by yet another lost lamb, Miki herself had to follow the example of Lord Pandora’s Actor and reach out to Katase.
Because the Miki from ‘before’, was still a good person, one that is eager to help the people around her.
And so, when Lord Momonga absconded to another room with Murayama, arguing something about ‘mechas’ and how exactly magic worked, Miki took the obvious opening to approach the devastated figure of Katase. At this point, she was just busy staring at the cold, untouched cup of tea.
With a friendly gesture of putting a hand on her shoulder, Miki started her approach. By cutting it to the point, she already knows exactly what to do, after all. "You wanted to know how exactly you should live now?"
Katase, shuddering from the unexpected contact, froze like a deer in front of a headlight as she was finally able to parse Miki’s words. With slow reluctance, previously unable to look Miki in the eyes, as Katase raised her face, Miki could see the clinging desperation behind her eyes. It was clear to Miki that this very question occupied Katase’s mind, and that she had not lost her ability to reason.
No, rather than having her psyche completely destroyed by the truth, Katase was simply looking for an answer, a simple answer as to how she could live with the revelation.
Naturally, Lord Momonga could not miss this simple fact, and therefore Miki could understand something absolutely precisely, His plans. That He wanted to direct Miki’s actions exactly in this path. Indeed, because Lord Momonga promised that one day he would give her eternal life and youth, Miki had to work for this privilege.
And Lord Pandora’s Actor was right, to find even the infinitesimal part of the Lord’s plan and to follow it, is indeed the greatest of happiness in the world. Miki could feel her very being singing with approval at her actions.
"Alright," Miki smiled kindly, looking into Katase's eyes, carefully watching her so that Miki could know how to perfectly guide her words. Miki then took her hand off the girl's shoulder and folded them in a prayer gesture in front of her before smiling warmly at Katase.
"Katase Higa, I will tell you everything that His Son told me…”
This time, it was Miki’s turn to act as the Shepherd, just as Lord Momonga, and His Son had done for her first.
***
Azazel, technically speaking, could not grow old. Sure he could grow in age, but as a fallen angel and creation of the Big Daddy himself, Azazel was bestowed with eternal life. So his lived millennia did not affect his appearance in any way, giving him, by his own estimation, an exclusive stylishness.
It was like the charm of an adult man and the scruffiness of a suave gray fox, which could be considered an addition to his image of a charming flatterer.
However, in the last few days, Azazel felt and looked like he had aged a couple of hundred years. Gone was the suave ease he carried himself with, full of self-assurances and cockiness of a man who knows what he is doing. Now with his eyes sunken barely responsive to light, his back bowed by the weight of responsibility, and the multitude of deep wrinkles etched on his face like a network of huge canyons, and his skin an unholy combination of yellow and pale. It was hard to see even a single percent of a similarity with mischievous, rakish and libertine, Governor General of Grigori and all the Fallen Host.
Although Azazel himself no longer identified with the title. After all, there was no longer an army to be a general for, no governorship to be a governor for. There was just an old man, thousands of Fallen left from the hundreds of thousands, to now mere thousands and an infinite pile of problems that had fallen on him.
And so, it was no wonder then that, lost in his thoughts, the knockings on his door barely made Azazel shift his gaze. But it was more of a mere formality at this point, the knocking that is. The Fallen were too busy, trying to scratch out even a bit more of resources or a roof over their heads, to waste time on something like knocking.
Right now, after their entire life’s work had collapsed on their heads, crushing their relatives and loved ones under it as well. Only a few people would bother knocking on the door to his office at this point… That is, if the small, dirty room in the basement of the mansion could be called by that name.
Uncaring on the morose thoughts of Azazel, the door swung open.
And as expected, it was Baraqiel, an old friend and loyal lieutenant of Azazel. In contrast to Azazel’s previous appearance, Baraqiel never bothered trying to cover up his age. He looked more like a living stone statue of some gloomy mountain spirit, with a face made of a pair of chiseled, and quite sloppily done, stone blocks. However, even he, in the past, still tried to take care of his appearance.
The fairly large man, who always walked with a military posture, maintaining a stern face, he maintained his muscles in excellent condition, even when as a supernatural species, muscles were nothing but for show. He had maintained a beard and sideburns, shaved with some perverse military precision to a precise micrometer. With a gait was always so straight and rhythmic that any observer could be forgiven for thinking that Baraqiel once swallowed a steel crowbar on a bet and has been suffering from this fact ever since without the possibility of his body bending in any moment of his life.
In the end, even Baraqiel once got lucky, or unlucky depending on how you looked at it, to fall under the charms of love. And therefore, it is not to say that he completely did not pay attention to his appearance.
However, right now Baraqiel looked like a pathetic shadow of his past, just like Azazel. His face and body had lost a lot of weight and muscles, his haircut seemed like a wild forest, and his walking gait now seemed too unnaturally stiff. This was clearly only done by force and will of the old soldier, even when he wanted to stop.
Azazel didn't even offer his old friend to sit down, and Baraqiel didn't ask in turn. An incredible rarity for an old soldier, only trained for drill, battles, and a couple of interesting sexual practices from his ex-wife, if the reports of Azazel's agents could be believed. Rather than offering any niceties, he had just shut the door behind him, before settling down on a chair opposite Azazel's table.
"Shemhazai has been stabilized," His old friend said directly, and fortunately for Azazel’s stressed mind, the news were positive, at least as positive as they could be in the current circumstances.
"That’s good…" Azazel allowed a semblance of relief to appear in his lifeless voice for a moment.
Shemhazai, the Vice Governor General of Grigori and the main deputy of Azazel himself, was alive, and his condition was finally stabilized. In the current conditions, this by itself was excellent news, and it was indeed a miracle and a half. Shemhazai had lost half of his body in Lucifer’s attack, for a human there was no chance of surviving such wounds, let alone any possible chance of recovery, but the leaders of Grigori were made of sturdier stuff than humans.
If Shemhazai's conditions had already been stabilized, that means he would be alive… Now, they would only need to find some good prosthetics for the missing limbs, and perhaps some kind of support for the missing half of his body.
"Sahariel and Tamiel are also getting used to their new injuries, they’re eager to get back to work." Two more Grigori leaders on their way to recovery, one who lost an arm, the other a leg. Injuries that, in an ideal world, would need to be seen by doctors. In the current situation, however, they could not even be given time to get used to the new changes in their bodies…
Not that Azazel, who had also lost a leg, was any different from them. “The Vampires are helping as much as they can, at least Tepes did not deceive us here… But they can’t help much with the injured, the Fallen are not vampires, after all.”
"Even if they could, I fear what they will demand for such help," Azazel, for the first time in a long time expressing his thoughts openly. However, this was not a sign of him losing hope, but rather him regaining his strength, the news that another Grigori leader was not going to die, and two others began to work significantly lifted his fighting spirit.
"Armaros is beating his head against the gates of vampire politics day and night, but apparently the Tepes do not yet know what exactly they want from us. Although Marius, the king's son, seems to be very interested in my knowledge of [Sacred Gears]."
Baraqiel did not respond to these words, all these talks about multivalent scientific theories were too complex for the old soldier. Instead, he seems to be hesitating about something for a moment. Azazel, noticing this unusual action for the old soldier, sighed, knowing what was to come.
Apparently, the good news ended there.
"Penemue has not yet received an answer from either the Angels or the Olympians… Or from anyone, really" Azazel sighed at these words. He already knew that no faction was going to suddenly decide to lend a hand to the drowning out of the goodness of their own heart.
Instead, they would require time to assess the usefulness of the Fallen and the prospects of cooperation with them, and that the Fallen would not drag them down into the depths as well. The Fallen needs to show that they could at least tread the waters for a while before anyone would decide to help them…
But the confirmation of his fears still made Azazel wince, it was so pleasant to hope for something else…
"Most of our lieutenants and elite guards are dead, and the recovery effort for their remains… Remain impossible to do." Azazel sighed, this was also not news to him, but judging by how Baraqiel occasionally began to speak only to report already known facts, the news he wanted to report was going to be really unpleasant.
However, in recent days, Azazel has received so much unpleasant information that he was already vaccinated against any damage he could receive from bad news, his morale would not be lowered in any way. After all, you can't fall below zero.
"Speak up."
"People are scared. And they are also confused… " Baraqiel exhaled, "And there have been rumors spreading among the men… Multiple ones. There are talks about the need to respond to the Devils, some about replacing you… And there have been deserters."
On these words, Azazel could only put a hand to the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, joylessly rubbing it. Azazel was, at least by his own estimation, smart, and therefore this news was also not a surprise, but the fact that this all happened was perhaps one of the most unpleasant messages of all time from Baraqiel.
The scattering and shaking morale among the fallen, it would be strange if such a thing did not happen after such a disaster has struck the Fallen. Even if Azazel and other cadres managed to save some of the Fallen, keeping them in the faction now, when the prospects looked so gloomy, was a much more complex task.
"How many?" Azazel closed his eyes and rested his chin on his hands placed on the table.
On this Baraqiel, sensing a bit of certainty in Azazel's reaction, responded a little more straightforwardly and faster than before.
"Several dozen, about forty, went to wreak vengeance on the Devils, about three hundred have already deserted, and since we have recalled our agents, so for the time being we are blind, and do not know where exactly they escaped… If we, of course, still want to drag them back here."
"Three and a half hundred deserters in a couple of days… " Azazel squeezed his head in a vise with his hands. In total, about seventy-two thousand fallen and about twenty thousand humans that have some kind of relationship with the Fallen, either their allies or just family, had been gathered on the vampire territory. For the human world, this could be enough for a small town, but just that.
Even for the Vampires, with their low population number, this amount did not seem particularly impressive. Not in the state in which the cadres and the forces of the Fallen Angels were at the moment, so the loss of several hundred couples of working hands in a couple of days will be noticeable, even perceptible.
Considering that it was only a possible beginning, Azazel feared for the worst, to lose another thousand or two. In itself, this would deal a serious blow to the weakened Fallen at the outset, but the real danger was if it would start a trend and tide.
Total morale loss, disintegration of any management and chain of command, this was much more problematic and dangerous. If the Fallen were to suddenly start spiraling downwards now, no one can keep the Fallen faction from going extinct. And this spiral would only accelerate, the more Fallen leaving the faction.
"Someone has put out a rumor that Satanael is accepting Fallen… And something about the Khaos Brigade," This new information, however, made Azazel grind his teeth.
Of course, what could be more alluring for the Fallen than information that somewhere out there was a place that would ‘accept’ them with open arms? The fact that choosing such an option would make them criminals to all the factions or engross them in the maelstrom of the world's criminal underbelly of the world did not bother them.
Many of the Fallen, almost like slaves to their vices, were already well acquainted with the criminal circles of the human and paranormal world. And as for the danger of being hunted by all the factions? From their point of view, if the Devils could appear one day and completely destroy the Fallen, their new life in the hands of another organization, a criminal one at that, couldn't be any riskier.
"How many others know of this?" Azazel asked, expecting to hear the worst, but Baraqiel’s next words calmed him down, at least as much as it could be done at all in the current circumstances,
“Not too much, the fact that you managed to get territories and help from vampires was a life-saving straw for many. Our internal information network is almost destroyed, so I can't say this confidently, however, Still judging by the reports and information from Tamiel, the idea is just floating in the air for now, and no one supports it openly… But as soon as you stumbled in any way or the situation got even worse somehow…”
Baraqiel didn’t need to speak more.
"Yes, I understand," Azazel, not bothering to open his eyes, replied tiredly, as if he was venting air, without any strength behind his words. He raised his hands and rubbed his temples, opened his eyes and looked up at his old friend, a helpless look on his face.
" What do you think, Baraqiel…? Have we deserved this?"
"What…?" Baraqiel shifted his gaze to Azazel, for the first time in a long time seriously worried about his old commander, if not to say, friend. After all, the trials that befell to Azazel in recent days could break anyone, even the most responsible and motivated leader, so what about the idler who just wanted to rest and conduct his experiments in his laboratory?
After all, it was impossible to hide the effects that the recent days had left on his body, so to assume that he had damaged his mind in addition to his body was just as easy.
"I mean… What do you think, Big Daddy… That is, the Lord really does hate us?" Azazel exhaled sharply through his nostrils, before looking around, as if trying to cast a glance at all the Fallen Angels entrusted to him beyond this little room turned into an office.
"Kokabiel’s plan… It was absolutely insane. It couldn't work, it didn't make any sense, it shouldn't have led to anything, which is why we had allowed him to do what he wanted. Let’s just use him to gather all the extremists under one banner, so that we could monitor them easily, it’s not like his plan would go anywhere, is what we had thought. But in the end…"
Azazel spread his hands to the side, then, as if not knowing what he was leading his thought to, shrugged and shook his hands, as if throwing off his thoughts from them, "Don't take it too seriously. The last few days have left their mark on me, I sometimes start talking nonsense."
"Understood…" Baraqiel just nodded at his leader’s words, not trying to put undue attention on the condition of his leader. He sat for a couple of seconds, in silence, before he rose from his chair, and walked to his leader, offering an affirming pat on the shoulder.
"Azazel, I know that all this looks bad… But we have survived the worst. It can only get better from here."
"Let's hope for that," Azazel weakly nodded to Baraqiel, allowing for the first time in a long time a shadow of a smile to flash on his lips, "I really hope so…"
***
Griselda Quatra, considered by many to be the best of all female exorcists in the service of the Holy See, and by some even as one of the best exorcists in the service of Heaven altogether, was a name that did not often appear in the reports of the Holy See. Partly this was due to the fact that Griselda had long since ceased to be a regular operative in the service of the Vatican's Special Department. Not that anyone could let her just ‘retire’ one day, the Vatican's exorcists were not the ones who worked their dues and retired, but Griselda had a reason why she left the Vatican's field work.
Griselda had become the abbess of a women's monastery, officially speaking, and one of the most experienced and zealous instructors of budding and prospective exorcists in reality.
Many former colleagues considered Griselda polite, tranquil, and even, no matter how strange it sounds in relation to a former combat exorcist focused on combat and direct physical elimination of targets, a peaceful woman. But these colleagues never trained with Griselda, or under her, and had never encountered her on the battlefield. So, it could be excused that they did not know what rage and frighteningly nightmarish cruelty could lurk behind the vestments of a nun, behind the walls of the monastery.
After all, while Griselda's situation should be considered not as a ‘retired’ exorcist, but as the matron of a shelter, which due to her abilities, was still involved in field work from time to time.
Field work that she is currently doing right now.
Griselda, of course, did not often act covertly, this was not her usual style. But she was still one of the best exorcists of the Vatican, so when asked to be unnoticed and invisible, she had done so with aplomb. It was not that hard to do with a Faction as weak as the vampires of Romania.
Of course, in relation to the Fallen Angels, who seemed to be specialized in subterfuge and spy craft, her abilities were no longer so outstanding. She would need lengthy preparation to penetrate any fortified territory of the Fallen, never mind if she needs to infiltrate the Underworld, if she wants to remain unnoticed.
But, as Cardinal Deacon had informed her, the Fallen Angels were not as dangerous as before, after facing a full-frontal attack from the Lucifer on their territory. They are no longer in their city, which was apparently nothing more than ruins now, forced to completely abandon it, fleeing to the human world instead.
And therefore, in her infiltration, she did not need to worry about any established protection of their faction and territory. However, it does not mean that Griselda could be careless either, that was why she was not alone right now, going on a solo mission.
Instead, she had taken command over a more prepared exorcist from the Special Department, who had been tasked with studying and monitoring the Fallen. An extremely important function, considering the fact that the Fallen after their exile finally went mad and began to attack the churches under the patronage of the Holy See.
Griselda, of course, was no longer a senior operative of the Holy See and therefore did not have full access to the secret archives of information and of the higher-ups’ plans. But she still retained the skills and knowledge from her past.
Therefore, even without a report or notice speaking of the fact, she perfectly understood that the Heavens simply could not leave such actions unanswered. And so, she knew that her actions at the moment were acts of reconnaissance ahead of the start of an operation in response.
Extermination of the fallen, if speaking completely and honestly.
Griselda herself did not have any special feelings when she had put together the facts. Of course, she could be called a peaceful person who would prefer to solve all issues exclusively through negotiations, but she was also a zealous Christian. She was zealous enough to become an exorcist whose vocation is the extermination of the Lord's enemies after all. And so, she would not shed tears for the extinction of the Fallen.
“May the traitor be absolved of their sins by the fire of purgatory.”
She, however, felt sorry for those who would die in this battle, those that are innocent. There would be many Angels and exorcists who were ready to pay the highest price for the peace of humanity and the destruction of the enemy, but such was the harsh truth of life.
It was necessary to fight for victory, even to death.
Therefore, having slipped into an inconspicuous arch, the nun, who, thanks to a pinch of makeup, properly selected clothes and neatly applied makeup, looked more like a hurried middle-aged woman, dressed in a worn, but still good cardigan and skirt, had easily found her contact. Yet another middle-aged woman, who nodded shortly to Griselda.
"Good afternoon," She replied calmly and seriously, just as Griselda could imagine an operative of the Special Department would do, "Let's not linger, we have no more than six hours to do our job, ideally we would be done in four."
"Understood," Griselda replied easily, changing her voice to a lower and hoarser one, almost involuntarily demonstrating the result of many years of clandestine training.
"Is there something that I need to know before we start the operation?"
"Hmm, if you have to know about this, meine dame," The Special Department spoke, adding a sudden German into her speech, but Griselda, well aware that an agent working in a German-speaking country could easily slip into their native tongue, did not pay attention to this fact. Nor did she notice the slight smile that flashed on the operative's face, a much more fatal mistake.
"I think we should be very thorough in examining the enemy's forces. You could even say that I will consider it a personal failure if we allow even a single extra traitor to the Lord to survive after bringing them His punishment..."
