Standing on the terrace of the building in the middle of the large, near-empty surface that was the secondary headquarters of the Church, Jonah watched as a wave of tiny individuals could be seen off in the distance, to the east, where he knew the Mainland and the Church lay.

The Saint’s appearance had been so wholly out of the norm that all of the commanders and even the Bishop had needed a few moments to recover from the fact that one of the leaders of the Church had arrived, in person, to help in this disastrous expedition.

Different commanders reacted to it in different ways. A significant portion gained confidence, as they knew that the Saint could flatten Angaria in one blow if he wished. They took solace in the fact that his appearance would mean that they would obtain victory no matter the cost, so when they received instructions directly from him, they went about their duties with renewed zeal and energy.

There were also quite a few who saw things in exactly the opposite way. They saw that the Saint had arrived because of their incompetence, which meant that this black stain on their careers would remain forever. They would always be known as the commanders who had goofed up what was supposed to be a simple task so much that a Saint had had to descend to help them out, but even though they were extremely displeased about this, they performed their tasks with even more frenzied focus than the others as they were determined to turn things around by using this opportunity to impress him.

As for the rest, they simply took things in stride and decided that they would make their decisions after the war was done, and Jonah couldn’t fault them as no one really knew exactly how this entire thing would turn out.

As for the Bishop...she was the most affected of them all. The Saint had transmitted his instructions before he left, but where the others had only needed a few moments to receive them, the Bishop had had to sit down for half an hour to go through everything that had been left for her.

After she was done, she had jumped to her feet as if there were springs on the chair she had been sitting on. Once again, she seemed to have completely forgotten about him as she disappeared and began to prepare the headquarters for the arrival of the third wave.

He only saw her occasionally, rushing about with determination being the most apparent thing in her eyes and in the set of her face. She didn’t even take a moment to rest, and every time he saw her, Jonah wished that he could read her mind to find out more details about the last and final wave of the Church.

Just like the waves before, there would be a gap of a day before the third attack. He spent the hours after the Saint’s visit walking around and trying not to draw any attention to himself as he studied what everyone was doing, but he knew that he was constantly failing at this task as he always received unpleasant looks no matter where he went.

It was extremely surprising that the Saint had done nothing to him despite his defiance before. His take on the situation was that the man had also taken the decision of the Bishop, which was to see him break down after the Church won the war.

He was actually quite happy about this, as it meant that he could do what he wished in these hours which might be the last of his life. This was a truth that he had come to terms with, and even though death was looming over his shoulder, he felt calm as he knew that he had accomplished everything he had set out to do in his life.

He couldn’t ask anything else of his disciple, and something deep inside him told him that the third wave would break and be sent back, too. When that happened, the Church would have no option but to pack up and leave as there was simply no way in which they could justify the sheer number of resources they were spending for a continent that could be called mid-size, at most.

The size of the continent was tied to the amount of Energy that could be expected from it after it was conquered, so even if they looked at things in the long term... it just wouldn’t be worth it.

The thought of seeing the Church return with their tails tucked away was so pleasant that Jonah almost felt like whistling a merry tune that was famous on Angaria as he walked about. Of course, he stopped it from coming out of his lips, but he still heard it in his mind for the first time since he had left home.

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He stopped it and bent forward while casting a spell on his eyes, though, when he saw that the third wave had come close enough that he could make out their details.

The tiny figures from before had now manifested into individuals wearing the cassocks of the Church. Unlike the other two waves which had been comprised of perfectly disciplined lines of soldiers or weapons, these individuals were all flying forward haphazardly with no formation whatsoever.

They were of different shapes and sizes, with a few being so small that they would be called children on Angaria and a few being so huge that they would be able to lift a mountain and throw it with no difficulty at all. The only thing that was common among them was their garb, and as he made out its color, he saw that the rumors he had heard were true.

The responsibility of picking the constituents of each wave always fell to the individual leading the attack, and he had heard that the Bishop had taken an unconventional approach when it came to the third wave. Instead of choosing squadrons of soldiers or powerful weapons, the buzz had been that she had picked a very peculiar force of the Church that was known as ’The Chameleon Corps’.

Strangely, they weren’t famous for their discipline...but for their lack thereof.

Made up of all of the individuals from the Mainland who wished to join the Church only for the resources that they would be given and for the mentorship of a Saint if they proved themselves to be capable enough, this was a force that was renowned for its unorthodox tactics. It was made up of all kinds of people from all kinds of races who were adept in using innumerable varieties of magic, so whenever they entered a battle, even they didn’t know how they would fight.

Ordinarily, this would be a recipe for failure, but if what he heard was true...there was something special that united them all into a cohesive weapon that was sought after in situations where it was needed for the Church to be unpredictable.

It was called ’Mastermind’, and apparently...it was capable of judging a battle and using the power of each and every member of this force in the best way possible.

The details about what it was and how it worked were so secretive that they had remained as such even though there had been multiple attempts to uncover them, and from this fact, itself, Jonah knew that this was a force that was called upon when all else failed.

Had the Bishop known that there was a chance that they would be in this situation?

He did not think that it was possible...but she had definitely made the decision to have these individuals as part of the third wave before they had set out, itself. After thinking for a bit, Jonah found the answer: with the inflated numbers of the first and second waves, there was an extremely high possibility that they would achieve victory without needing the third wave, so if this didn’t happen, then this was the best force possible that could follow up the failed assaults of its predecessors.

He couldn’t help but applaud her cunning wit as he came to this conclusion, but in the next moment, his mind went blank when he felt himself being teleported.

An instant later, he found himself in a small room that he had not seen before. In it, there were two individuals present, and seeing them, he almost succumbed to the fear that filled his brain more than ever as it was too similar to a certain experience from before.

On noticing this, the Saint who was sitting to the right of Jonah said, "I won’t have you fainting on me, now, so buck up. I called you here because I had a question. Tell me... is your disciple someone who would be willing to sacrifice himself if it meant that he could save his homeland?"

With a wave of his hand, the Saint cast a spell that made Jonah feel as if he was being electrocuted where he stood. This served to bring him back to the present, but as he heard the man’s question, he was puzzled.

Seeing that he was not answering, the Saint raised his hand threateningly. Knowing that it meant that he would be greeted with another bolt of lightning if he did not answer, Jonah quickly said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Yes, definitely. If he knew for certain that his sacrifice would be worth it...I know that he would not step back."

As they heard the answer, the Bishop and the Saint both looked at each other.

As he had a brief moment of respite, he once again wondered why this question had been presented to him. Had the Church somehow obtained information about Daneel’s plans?

From his face, the confusion that he was feeling was visible, and spotting this, the Bishop said, "Here’s your answer."

With a flick of her finger, an image appeared in the middle of the room, and as Jonah watched it speak, he could only blink with shock and hope it was a sick joke.

Wearing white, solemn robes, the unmistakable image of Daneel declared, "This is a message to whoever is in charge of this assault on my home. I propose...a deal. I know what you want to do with Angaria. You wish to kill us all and set up a token Kingdom which will be so completely aligned to the Church that you will be able to leech each all of the natural Energy of the continent. Instead of this...I’m offering myself up on a platter. You know my history. You know everything that I’ve done. Look at it closely, and notice the time that I needed to do all of them. If I was capable of so much here, then just imagine what I would be able to do with the resources of the Church! I believe that someone who can become a Saint in the future is much more valuable than a continent that can be spared as there are many like it... so what do you say? If you agree, broadcast a message and I will arrive at the spot right in between Angaria and your headquarters three hours from now. Make the right decision, and ensure your continued rise on the Mainland. I look forward to meeting you and sealing the deal. Farewell!"