"And then, Saintess Philis vanished inexplicably."
"Within three years, the old Pope died under mysterious circumstances, and Augustus’s strength surged monstrously. He used despicable and shaless ans to usurp the throne of the Pope."
"The old generation of Holy n who once knelt before the doors, so have died, and others have disappeared. Kain, the three of you must be the only remaining mbers, right?"
"Perhaps it was because you weren’t very strong back then, and your reputations were inconspicuous. You three were at the very end of the line outside the Holy Hall, Augustus probably thought you didn’t know much, which is why you were lucky enough to survive. Although you three have kept this secret deep within your hearts and told no one, haven’t you been rather ostracized within the Church?"
"Kain, as an Archbishop, you hold very little actual power and can only take care of the choir."
Kain’s complexion grew sowhat gloomy, his fingers clenching subconsciously.
"Gabriel, you are the most senior Holy Knight within the current Holy Knight Order. The position of the Holy Knight Order’s captain should have been yours, yet now you can only serve as the Vice Captain."
Gabriel’s face also showed a faint trace of indignation.
"Archbishop Manson, you were not in the Imperial City or at headquarters before, but as the head of a Kingdom’s division, you had significant authority. But now, you have been transferred to the Imperial City to serve an idle position."
The Archbishop nad Manson was frowning tightly as well.
"It’s just a pity that Augustus never imagined that my master, the previous Eminence of the Heresy Court’s Cardinal, recorded these secrets in the archives, passing them down to , letting know all the truth."
"Just three years later, Augustus suddenly brought back a baby girl and beca her godfather, raising her within the Church Court."
"This baby girl is Rose Vesper."
"She is also the child of Saintess Philis."
"Her veins carry the blood of God. That damned bastard Augustus, he even dared to beco the godfather of a God’s daughter." Douglas’s voice was nearly warped with distortion, echoing in everyone’s ears: "Does this bastard think he’s worthy to sit on an equal footing with God?"
"This is blasphemy!"
The last sentence had almost turned into an exhausted roar.
Rose Vesper’s face was completely pale; this was the first ti she’d heard these things.
She had always thought she was an orphan with no relatives. Now, all of a sudden, she learned she had a mother — and that her mother was one of the most outstanding Saintesses in the Church’s history.
Her father was actually a God?
Could it be that Douglas chose to support her all this ti because he knew she carried the blood of a God in her veins?
If it wasn’t for this reason, why would Douglas, a man wielding the second-highest authority in the Holy Court, be so compliant towards her, a re mascot Saintess?
The blood of a God?
The blood of a God?
The blood of a God?
Rose Vesper kept repeating these words in her mind, her lips quivering uncontrollably.
Was it possible that the blood of a God was flowing in her body?
Below there was an eerie silence, as if it was the silence of death. The experts who had co here due to threats had never expected to hear such secrets.
They didn’t completely believe what Douglas had said; after all, all of this was just Douglas talking to himself, without any evidence.
However, they had indeed heard sothing about Saintess Philis, and rumors occasionally surfaced about the relationship between Rose Vesper and Philis. Furthermore, the three senior Holy n, Kain, Manson, and Gabriel, did not challenge the statents, which made them inclined to believe at least part of it.
Moreover, these people were almost all crafty veterans. They were well aware that whether or not what Douglas said was true beca irrelevant the mont they heard it.
They had already been forcibly bound to the chariot of Rose Vesper and Douglas. If it was true, then Augustus would definitely not spare them, the people in the know. And they didn’t have the courage to stand before Augustus and inquire whether it was true or false.
Furthermore, Douglas and Rose Vesper still had sothing to hold over their heads. This ant that, whether what Douglas said was true or false, it had to be accepted as the truth.
Boom!
As silence enveloped the surroundings, a clap of thunder suddenly tore through the stillness.
The sky above turned dark and oppressive, and heavy clouds tumbled chaotically in the heavens.
Lightning and thunder surrounded them, and a cold, mournful wind howled like tornted souls.
An invisible pressure suddenly spread out in the area.
Everyone assembled here was a powerful being, yet at this mont, nearly everyone felt as if a mountain had been placed upon their chest.
```
The terrifying pressure made it hard for them to breathe, and their legs were even trembling continuously.
Finally, a bishop’s legs gave out, and he knelt down instantly.
And this was just the beginning, one by one other mbers followed suit, dropping to the ground with their hands supporting the floor, even Douglas included.
It wasn’t just a suppression of pure Strength; it was an oppression that stemd from deep within the soul, brought about by a higher level of existence.
No matter bishops, archbishops, vice captains, or even the Great Sage, Martial God, and Titled Knights, in front of this mighty force, they could only feel how insignificant they were.
Their hearts were beating violently, as if they could explode at any ti.
Their veins were bulging severely, as if they were about to burst.
Their souls seed on the verge of being crushed into pieces.
In the face of that indescribable power, they had only one choice, and that was to submit.
They lay on the ground like lowly worms, with their eyes wide open and filled with fear, staring at the central figure.
Rose Vesper.
A scarlet light enveloped the Holy Daughter’s body.
As if bathed in a sea of blood, the pure and Holy girl seed to have gained an enchanting allure.
The scarlet light coalesced above her head, like a crown.
Douglas’s body shook violently with excitent, unable to control the impulse in his heart, he stretched out his arms and howled, "Do you see, gentlen?"
"Holy Daughter, she is the true Pope."
"It is her destiny, the supre Empress!"
"Augustus is nothing but scum who usurped the Pope’s position."
"We are not scheming to usurp power; we are just helping God’s daughter take back what rightfully belongs to her."
"Once we judge Augustus and let God’s daughter return to her rightful place, you... will be the ritorious officials assisting the Goddess, you will receive God’s blessing, you will have greater power, stronger abilities..."
"Offer your loyalty, God’s most devout Believers!"
"You will attain eternal life within God’s grace!"
One by one, figures lay on the ground, their voices trembling as they offered up their devout faith.
But that figure bathed in blood light...
Is she the Goddess, or is she the Witch?
...
Almost at the sa ti, elsewhere, within the palace of the Hero.
Asina’s room was filled with books, in complete disarray.
All of those books were about various ancient scripts.
When at Snow Mountain, before burning down that secret chamber, Asina had recorded the scenes, especially the Stone Plate filled with mysterious characters, using a Magic Image.
After returning to the Imperial City, Asina had reprinted the characters from the Magic Image onto paper, and she had been studying the mysterious script of the Stone Plate these days.
This was not an easy task; although Asina was quite erudite, even with her talent, she could barely recognize that it should be Ancient Gurmukhi... a script that had been lost for over a thousand years.
Despite having sought nurous books on ancient scripts from the archives of the Earth Mother Goddess Sect,
until today, she had only managed to decipher less than one-tenth of the script on the Stone Plate, and the aning of so characters could only be speculated.
Asina’s slender white fingers brushed over a few characters that had just been deciphered on the Stone Plate, murmuring subconsciously:
"Benevolent? A benevolent father?"
Asina’s brow furrowed; could this be sothing like a tombstone, an epitaph written by children for their father?
Just then, an ethereal voice, like a secret whisper, echoed in Asina’s ear:
"My most beloved child..."
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