The more they oppose, the more it shows that I am doing the right thing Chapter 773 391 Morning Star World2

This old fart is the true embodint of chaos!

"All destruction has co upon the world... The Era of Chaos shall also end," An Su sighed helplessly, "what's the point of wealth now?"

"Indeed, it has no aning at all."

The Last Bishop's lips curled into a smile, He did not refute An Su's viewpoint, instead nodded in agreent, which made the latter slightly flinch; the unconcerned He, tilting his head, displayed a mocking expression, calmly stating:

"All of this is pointless, utterly dull. You're right."

"The sacrifices of all the Faceless Ones are nonsense; I can't even rember their nas, who knows if such fellows exist, they're all fiction created by ;"

"Whatever thirty-thousand-year plan is aningless, so are the Magic Net Tokens issued by Nether."

"Whether rlin casts spells with his toes or hands, it has no aning. The destruction and rebirth of ages, the downfall and ascent of sentient beings, all of it is utterly boring and without aning."

"Wealth is aningless, as are honor and sacrifice; in the face of the eternal cycles of Nether, all attempts of life are utterly aningless."

"And because all of this is so devoid of aning—"

The chaotic Radiance floods in, overwhelming everything; He stands at the highest point of the Chaotic Ladder, Pure White Eyes reflecting the brilliance of the entire world, the Last Bishop lifts a smile that is both mad and composed, before the gates of Heaven, displaying a satisfied and blasphemous grin.

"We have to give it aning."

"Even if it's the wrong aning, even if it's the wrong end, it's much more interesting than this monotonous world that has cycled countless tis."

"The act of defiance against fate itself, the rebellion against the Gods themselves, that is where the aning lies!"

"An Su Moningsta, you must beco the error, there won't be a final warning."

"In my view—"

The Last Bishop raises His hand, and thorns made of Radiance instantly bind the youth, piercing his wrists, looping around his collarbones and threading past his shoulder blades adeptly weaving between skin and flesh, puncturing every branch of his Magic Circuit, yet not threatening his life, with just the raise of His hand, the youth is forever imprisoned.

[Chaos's Thorn]

[Holy Level Magic]

[Thorns densely cover every branch of the being's Magic Circuit in an instant, severing all flows of Magic Power, inflicting extre agony]

The Magic Circuit is enveloped by 'thorns'; a re struggle, a slight flow of magic, would completely pierce the circuit. It is an absolutely inescapable bondage and torture.

He then stands below the gateway to Heaven, coldly stating:

"Your attempt to search for that girl, who never existed, is the most utterly boring thing in this world."

"It's utterly laughable."

An Su cannot escape those bindings; his Rank is far below that of the Last Bishop, whose Pure White Eyes even penetrate the essence of An Su's soul; from the very beginning, An Su could never surpass the Last Bishop, this is an undeniable fact.

From the start, he did not even consider surpassing the Last Bishop on his own.

An Su does not do the impossible.

"I will not kill you."

Cos the calm voice of the Last Bishop from above the stairs, "But I will not let you leave—until the ceremony is over. Until I crown you."

The Last Bishop will not kill An Su, this is certain; He will only capture An Su.

This is a 'cat and mouse ga.'

And one more thing,

He will use 'Resurrection Magic.'

This is the critical intelligence, the only clue to victory.

An Su felt the thin spines covering his whole body's Magic Circuit, pain transcending the soul flooded his mind from all directions. Having experienced death twenty-one thousand six hundred tis, the pain was even more horrible than death itself.

From the inside out, millions of thorns prick on every inch of the branches, on each and every root of An Su, let alone the circulation of magic power, a re movent would bring about soul-transcending agony.

Not to ntion a Saint, even an ordinary Demigod, having their sources pricked so many tis, would lose their Sense of God in pain.

To avoid the torture of pain, he could only remain motionless.

Waiting for an 'error' to completely envelop this world.

Waiting for Miss Enya to completely surrender her na to the shadows.

[Error Rate: 65%]

The Fate's Staircase is already more than halfway tainted by errors. In the kingdoms below the stairs, space and laws have been torn apart by crack after crack, large swathes of scarlet shadows pouring down along the fissures, the whole world bathed in a blood-red filter.

The disparity in power has reached a gaping point.

It seems as though there is no longer any thod to turn the tide.

"Bishop of Chaos, Your Majesty."

An Su, pierced through by thorns, slowly raises his head, just this minor motion causes his soul unspeakable pain,

"You speak of defying fate, yet you impose the fate of 'error' onto , saying 'I must beco the Chaotic Councilor,' you speak of giving everything aning, yet claim 'I am aningless'..."

"You are imprisoned by the Gods, yet seek to imprison others."

"Whether good or evil, all aning is rely granted by you."

The youth mockingly says, filled with joy as he mocks:

"It's indeed laughably ridiculous, extrely hypocritical."

He takes a step forward, whether the spine of his physical body or the spine of his spirit, both stand tall amidst the thorns; he calmly and madly walks down the stairs, all the thorns simultaneously piercing through An Su's Magic Circuit, his skin, bones, and heart, all at once.