The Fake Mages

"How on earth were we defeated?"

The atmosphere was heavy within the great hall of the cathedral in Havenwright. Dozens of captains of the Holy Knights, as well as the few bishops that remained in the entire country were standing here. They listened to Grant's question and looked at each other. However, not a single person could give him an answer.

Compared with the usual sight, there were not many people in the spacious great hall of the cathedral. Looking at them brought about a feeling of indescribable desolation. Grant swept his eyes through the crowd, and his expression... did not seem angry, ruthless or fierce. Rather, there was a faint hint of exhaustion in his tone of voice.

"Why are you not speaking? God is still watching us, or have you already forsaken the faith in your hearts?"

Hearing that, a few bishops hurriedly shook their heads. "Not that... We were just thinking."

"Then what have you thought of?"