"This is a ritual originating from ancient gods, which allows a normal person to see special things and eventually beco delirious."
Matthew said seriously.
"In the history recorded by the Church, this ritual appeared very few tis, but each ti caused at least a thousand casualties."
Beatrice asked: "What is the purpose of this group of people?"
"Who knows; I once saw a believer in the Vatican who said nothing and just liked to smile at people."
Matthew shook his head.
"None of these guys have normal brains."
Then he looked confused.
"But these dark green liquids don't seem like the style of ancient god believers."
"Foul-slling, rotting, dense evil aura—very similar to another group of guys I know."
Seeing Beatrice and Roderick cast inquiring glances.
Matthew said: "Wings of Vengeance."
Beatrice raised an eyebrow.
She knew this organization and heard that many cases recently were done by these guys.
The Church had been investigating them for a long ti.
"Did these two organizations join forces?" Roderick asked in surprise. "Are there any rare treasures here?"
Matthew shook his head in denial.
"Although ancient god believers haven't done anything good, those guys only like to hide in corners."
"Maybe the Wings of Vengeance accidentally mastered this ritual."
Beatrice continued: "Can it be stopped?"
Due to the previous deaths of several people, everyone in the venue found it difficult to maintain calm, and everyone began to panic.
"Unless we find the person who set up the ritual."
Matthew looked around.
"But with holy artifacts, you should be able to resist the power of this ritual."
As he spoke, he raised his hand, and a halo slid away from his fingertips.
These substances were all generated from the runes behind the seats.
They hovered around Matthew but were blocked by a pure white holy light.
However, not everyone had such abilities.
So ordinary clergy mbers, after contacting this halo, suddenly had extrely strange expressions.
Ferocious, painful, tearful.
They stood in place, seeming to undergo great torture.
But Beatrice carefully used [Spiritual Vision] to observe and did not see any monsters near those people.
At the sa ti, she noticed another thing.
Those monsters crawling out of the dark green liquid did not attack those clergy mbers.
Instead, they surrounded the latter, seemingly guarding them.
She imdiately told the Archbishop beside her about this situation.
"Is it really those people..."
Matthew had heard about the purpose of the "Wings of Vengeance."
"Joran, what on earth is he doing?"
Venue Backstage.
"Archbishop Borja, why are you here?"
Hans smiled and released the hand of the girl beside him without leaving a trace.
Joran had no ti to pay attention to the other party's small actions and said imdiately: "What is your purpose?"
"I... don't quite understand what you an?" Hans looked confused.
Joran imdiately threw a file to the other party.
After reading the content inside, Hans clenched his fists, but his face looked panicked.
"Stop doing aningless things."
Joran's tone was cold.
"The Church is already clear about your problems. Confessing proactively now might give you a quick death."
"Hehe."
Hans lowered his head, and his aura changed.
"You really are a bit amateur in persuading surrender."
He dragged Mila to his side and choked her neck.
Other children present showed incredulous eyes, and Heidi covered her mouth.
"Indeed, soone is targeting the venue, but it's not . However, I can tell you everything I know."
"Mr. Hans... I feel terrible," Mila said with difficulty.
But Hans exerted more force upon hearing this, and the girl's face turned red instantly.
"You should know that such threats are useless against ." Joran was expressionless.
"Of course. Before I strangle her to death, you will definitely catch first." Hans smiled and took two steps back.
Joran narrowed his eyes, guessing the other party's intention.
At this ti, Hans suddenly spoke: "Hey, how long do you want to watch the show? Do you really intend to wait for to die?"
Joran looked instantly at a corner.
"Hehe, I thought the Archbishop would betray us." Samael's figure appeared from there.
He held a dark red object in his hand, which seed to be the body tissue of so creature, only it was withered at this ti.
Samael began to chant obscure language.
In the next mont, scarlet light suddenly lit up on the ground, enveloping the children and Joran inside.
Feeling the surging blood in his body, Joran realized sothing imdiately.
"Blood Curse Arts; your purpose is indeed these children."
"Congratulations, you guessed right, but there is no reward." Samael laughed sinisterly.
At this ti, except for Joran, everyone else in the sacrificial ritual showed symptoms of discomfort.
"So... so hot."
"I can't breathe."
The children's skin began to turn red, and Heidi was even bleeding from her seven orifices.
Seeing this, Joran frowned and threw out a crucifix.
This holy artifact actually floated beside the children, and then pure Holy Power erged from it, wrapping the forr.
"The Archbishop indeed practices the faith of the Church." Samael snorted coldly.
Joran ignored the other party but sensed the energy fluctuation of the blood sacrifice array.
"The array has just started running; it can be broken."
Light flashed in his eyes, and then he took out several iron nails from his robe.
Whoosh... whoosh.
The iron nails pierced into the nearby wooden floor.
Joran imdiately pulled out the crucifix on his chest.
An extrely terrifying power erupted from him, overturning all nearby debris.
Pure white Holy Power connected to the iron nails.
In the next second, the blood sacrifice array seed about to be broken.
"Hey, is this all you guys from the Angels have!"
Hans saw Joran trapped and thought the danger was over.
But in a mont, the situation seed to reverse again.
"Hmph."
Samael did not reply.
Just as Hans planned to run first, another powerful force appeared.
Joran raised his head, solemnity appearing in his eyes for the first ti.
Above, a cloud of black power surged, containing a powerful evil aura.
Subsequently, he saw a slender figure.
Pale skin all over, sharp fingernails, and butterfly-like fleshy wings on the back.
She held a cross long sword, with dark green flas burning on the blade.
In just the blink of an eye, she appeared right in front of Joran.
Oppression, corruption, death.
Surging power swept the surroundings.
Without any hesitation, the long sword slashed at Joran.
Bang!
Black and white light erupted in an instant, subrging the entire backstage.
After the dust settled, a long and narrow mark was left on the ground.
At this ti, in the corner of the backstage.
Joran half-knelt on the ground.
He panted heavily, and his upper clothes were tattered.
But he looked at his chest.
At this mont, black and white powers were entwining on the crucifix.
This was a sign of Holy Power being polluted.
"It seems that was their trap just now." Joran frowned.
When breaking the blood sacrifice array, he released his own Holy Power.
Unlike holy artifacts, this was accumulated continuously by clergy mbers through theological practice, and was also their "Source Power."
Once polluted, it could drive people crazy at best.
At worst, it could even cause a priest to fall completely.
But Joran was no ordinary person. At the last mont just now, he used another holy artifact he carried.
Sizzle...
The black power was quickly purified by the Holy Light.
Joran patted the dust off his body and stood up, looking at the figure opposite.
"With such a form, you actually received the Pouring of a Demon."
☆☆☆
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