As the Saintess, Siegler shouted loudly.
"Charge!!"
The elite forces of the Holy Prant Land Sect roared in response.
Before her words faded, the doors of the Papal Hall were breached.
The Helsalem Papal Hall, a grand and solemn building, stood above the sea of clouds, easily overlooking the panoramic view of the imperial capital beneath.
It was the symbol of power and faith, the spiritual pillar of Helsalem throughout these years of war, and the breeding ground of danger and concealed truths.
Under Siegler's command, the knights rushed up the stairs and finally reached the interior of the Papal Hall.
A thunderous response erupted from the crowd.
Trumpets blared, and battle robes fluttered.
Under Siegler's command, the Royal Guard, Temple Knights, and Heretical Tribunal boldly stord into the Papal Hall to confront the surging tide of Guardian Knights head-on, like an unstoppable army.
"Have you rebels gone mad?!"
The loyal Guardian Knights of the Pope, sworn to defend the Pope and uphold the dynasty, questioned sternly.
"You are the traitors who have forsaken the faith!"
Warriors from both sides clashed like a violent storm, erupting in deafening sounds of clashing spears and swords.
Flashes of swords like snow, shadows of spears abounding, armor clashing sending sparks flying.
Siegler charged at the forefront, like a Valkyrie descended.
She wielded the Holy Prant Protectorate Divine Sword in her hand, unstoppable.
The Pope's Guardian Knights followed one after another, she moved elegantly, darting and leaping, no enemy could approach within several ters of her.
The Paladin and Tribunal Chief followed behind Siegler, each demonstrating their prowess.
The two Eighth Order Supre Beings of the Holy Prant Land Sect were like war gods, killing decisively without rcy.
The Paladin continuously perford Divine Arts, summoning thunderous blasts, while the Tribunal Chief wielded his hamr mightily, sweeping through enemies ruthlessly.
The besieging enemies continuously fell, cascading down from the high steps of the Papal Hall, black mist spreading and swirling on the marble floor.
Before long, Siegler and her assembled troops successfully broke through to the front of the Throne Hall.
Pushing open the towering, intricately wrought purple-black iron gate, a chilling draft greeted them from beneath the towering do.
The vast circular hall, capable of accommodating thousands, had walls of azure marble, adorned with sculptures of saints and knights, gilded edges shimring. In the center of the dod ceiling, a massive crystal chandelier with thousands of candles flickered, brightly illuminating the entire hall.
On both sides of the long red carpet leading to the throne, were densely packed, fully ard Black Knights.
They were clearly more formidable than the Guardian Knights outside, like chanical puppets holding long spears, their red, cold gaze and tight lips forming cruel lines, resembling rigid statues.
Even the holy light began to warp and deform, the music of the Papal Hall hurriedly changed tone, turning into a seductive requiem.
Several clerics accompanying Siegler shivered involuntarily.
At so point, the atmosphere inside the Helsalem Papal Hall had beco frighteningly chilling.
This further confird the reality unanimously recognized by Siegler, Grand Justice Elm, and other high-ranking officials of the Holy Prant Land Sect —
The Pope had indeed fallen.
Click, click.
The footsteps of the elite silver-armored knights sounded from behind, as everyone reached the final battlefield, the Throne Hall.
They had already set up the Firmant Shield Formation.
And Empress Kexiya had earlier entrusted the national treasures to Siegler, endorsing her in this crusade against the Pope, which allowed Siegler to manipulate the power of the Helshalem Barrier, to suppress the Pope.
Even the Royal Family had chosen to support Saintess Siegler.
Although the Temple Knights were unsure if Siegler could succeed in this deadly attempt.
As long as she could complete this feat, she would certainly beco the new Holy Emperor of the Holy Prant Theocracy, and in the future, ascend to beco the new Ninth-order through the Power of Faith of Saint Prant.
"..."
Standing at the forefront, Siegler's gaze shifted towards the throne at the end of the red carpet, full of wary hostility.
It was a staircase dozens of ters high, at the end stood the figure of Pope Lankelos Saint Anastasius.
"Here you are, my beloved daughter, why would you confront with arms?"
He was draped in a pure white robe, wearing a triple crown and silver-white mask, lazily holding a black fog bone staff, sitting loftily on the throne overlooking the masses.
Stained glass around the hall cast colorful halos that reflected off the benevolent and rciful smile on the Pope's mask, presenting an image of benevolence and kindness.
But his sinister speech sent shivers down the spines of all the clerics.
Even for Siegler, whom he had raised himself, there was not a trace of rightful affection, only a mocking deanor.
"You are no longer Lankelos, now you are just an undead blinded by hatred!"
Siegler's eyes were full of struggle and reluctance, but her decision had been made.
"..."
The clerics watching Siegler grasp the sword handle tremblingly, and her shaking voice, all understood that to assassinate the Pope, committing such a great act of treason, she was the one in most pain.
"Is that so—?"
The White Robed Pope's voice dragged on, almost humming.
He finally stood up.
"I never thought I would have to kill you with my own hands today, Siegler."
The Pope looked down at Siegler from afar, his eyes turning slightly stern.
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