Chapter 687: Chapter 593: The Prophet Must Die
The Church army’s embarrassing predicant is actually quite normal when viewed from a certain perspective.
Any sect, or rather, any force, once it grows in numbers, will beco mixed and its beliefs diluted, making effective supervision challenging.
Even the Lord of Light only wishes for believers to be devout, without mandatory requirents.
However, during tis of war, when the Holy Prophet launches a Truth Telling Skill attack, those with impure faith must pay the price.
On Thorns Square, Charles I, still “entangled,” unsurprisingly suffers the Second Rotten Head’s taunts once more.
Bang!
The rotten, Undying body of the Second Rotten Head is easily trampled underfoot by Charles I, and various “punishnts” are inflicted upon him, each emanating a holy radiance reminiscent of the Church’s handling of heretical Dead enemies in the barbaric ages of the Dark Era in the Old Continent.
Of course, as the Second Rotten Head possesses the “Undying” trait, he is difficult to kill, which now also applies to Ludwig, who has rged with him.
Amidst the Holy Light, as the Second Rotten Head endures torture, he continues to shriek: “It seems Sims was right, most of the Bright Church are but hypocrites; so-called Light, so-called Devotion… nothing but a guise of Human Skin.”
“At heart, you’re just a despicable bunch of humans driven by Desire.”
The Second Rotten Head’s mockery draws the attention of many.
The Transcendents peeping on the scene can almost predict the fury Charles I, as the Pope, must feel upon hearing such insults and desecration towards the “Master.”
However, it is oddly not from Charles I’s face that they see Anger, including the Second Rotten Head who was preparing for the “attack.”
On the contrary, what everyone sees is a peculiar smile.
The Second Rotten Head, previously brazen because of his Undying nature, suddenly feels an inexplicable threat deep down; the second ti he has felt such a threat since he gained the “Undying” trait.
The first ti was when he followed Martin Sims into the Great Catastrophe Battlefield.
Before he can discern the nature of the threat or react, he and the other Peeping Toms witness Charles I turning away from the Second Rotten Head and Ludwig, looking instead at two figures surrounded by Holy Thorns.
To be precise, just one.
Rafael!
When the youthful figure with his head slightly bowed, radiating a Supre Divinity’s pure light, appears, Charles I’s gaze holds nothing else but the reflection of Rafael’s form.
He even turns his back to the Second Rotten Head and Ludwig as he once again approaches the gateway of Heaven and Earth.
At the sa ti, he speaks with a voice filled with pity and encouragent:
“Those who believe in my Lord shall fear nothing.”
“Boom!”
Almost instantaneously, as Charles I’s voice echoes through Secret Phoenix City.
An unbelievable transformation occurs on the dissolving battlefield.
Holy Judgnt Knight Lancelot, who had been riddled with self-doubt due to the Prophet’s Truth, suddenly awakens. The Heroic Spirit Armor glistening on his body, silver and holy symbols alight; a new burst of Holy Light erupts, and his decaying body is revitalized beyond expression.
He, his entire being radiating Holy Light and wielding the Holy Sword again in his hand.
The sa transformation occurs among the Bishops, Knights, and Heavy Armor Soldiers… They begin to recover, and even beco more powerful than before.
Their presence also changes.
Lancelot, with the Holy Sword in hand, no longer shows a strong desire to kill in his eyes. He seems utterly calm, with his previously lifted head now slightly bowed, like a Glory Knight about to be knighted.
The next second, he silently swings the Holy Sword, cutting down a Red Robed Bishop who had not yet recovered.
Pfft!
Crimson blood splatters on his silver-white armor, slowly dripping down.
He bows slightly towards the body, saying, “May Heaven accept your soul!”
Lancelot’s actions signal the others; at the sa mont, swords and knives of devout peers appear behind those Church mbers who had not yet recovered. Under the illumination of the Holy Light, they cleave downwards.
Neat, serene voices echo through William Castle.
“Sssh! Sssh! Sssh!”
“May Heaven accept your soul!”
“May Heaven…”
In this holy yet horrifying scene, the Light Army, reduced in numbers by at least half under Lancelot’s command, advances silently toward the interior of William Castle.
Their close companions fall before them.
Their feet tread upon the bodies of fellow comrades turning to mud, blood-red, rotten mud.
As this clean yet bloody image enters the eyes of all, ti seems to reverse, and the Church’s bloody conquests, recorded in nurous ancient books, vividly erge within everyone’s minds.
“The Old Continent, the Church’s Eastern crusade… It was devastating to all life!”
Tang Qi, recalling this piece of Knowledge, also sees within the ghost light in front of him that the targets of Lancelot and others’ charge are not the two figures surrounded by Holy Thorns, but rather the mbers gathered together inside the castle for protection.
From William O’Niel, who had beco a “Paper Fragnts man,” Jennifer the external liaison, to the ordinary guards, all are steeped in deep slumber, utterly oblivious to the bloodstained blades about to strike them down.
Reviews
All reviews (0)