Chapter 1043 - 322: Mistwalker Envoy (3)

At this moment.

Inside the Housheng Sect’s cathedral, everything was set in grim battle formation, the air thick with the scent of killing.

"That executioner is closing in. As long as he dares to step into this place today, we’ll make sure he never gets out alive!"

The Pope, grasping a golden Scepter, stood high above and shouted. Though he was the new Pope, his authority was no different; with the authority granted by the Divine Spirit, anyone could become Pope.

"Is that so?"

A questioning voice came from directly overhead.

A figure in a black robe was hanging upside down from the cathedral ceiling.

Then there were two, three, four.

No one knew how these Assassins of the All Beings Sect had gotten in; one after another they dropped from the ceiling and rushed toward where the Pope stood.

This was a brazen assassination, not the slightest attempt at concealment.

The Pope snorted coldly and swept his hand. Around him, many Soldiers suddenly swelled in size, tearing apart their clothes and armor, revealing bodies covered in black Changmao. They were Werewolves with hideous faces, crimson eyes filled with a lust for destruction.

The Pope was the leader of the Housheng Sect, and could serve to stabilize and bind their Faith. Kill him, and the Housheng Sect would be hurled into the Abyss.

A shadow slid through the crowd, swift and light, drawing no attention.

The signal of danger was all too real.

At last, the Pope sensed something, suddenly whipping his head around. The Scepter in his hand reshaped into a silver spear, which he drove fiercely into the floor.

A mechanical arm thrust up from the ground and seized the silver spear. Adis poked his head out of the shadows, crawled up, and with his other hand thrust a slender blade toward the Pope.

All of this happened in the span of a heartbeat. The surrounding Church Soldiers didn’t react in time, let alone manage to intervene.

For Adis, moving through shadow was easier than eating or drinking; breaking through so many people’s blockade was naturally a trivial matter.

The Pope’s eyes widened, seeing the two sharp fangs protruding from Adis’s mouth, like blades that looked ready to gouge out a man’s eyes.

He couldn’t help but squeeze his eyes shut, raising the Scepter high. A powerful Force Field spread outward from him as the center, blasting Adis away—along with the Church Soldiers nearby.

"Just you, this monster? Don’t even think about it!" the Pope roared. Red flames ignited on the Scepter in his hand, forming a Flaming Spear over ten meters long that lunged straight to skewer Adis.

In that instant, he was endowed with incomparable Divine Power, wielding strength that transcended reality.

Battles between Churches were always unpredictable; no one could foresee what method the other side would use in the next moment.

The ceiling of their strength didn’t depend on themselves, but on how much their God cared.

Adis was flung into the air, then lightly halted midair, a pair of black wings spreading from his back, like Bat wings magnified countless times.

The Power buried in his bloodline was triggered, erupting in dreadful force as he caught the Flaming Spear that had driven toward him.

Heavy Power collided in the air, sending out shockwaves. The cathedral walls cracked inch by inch, the glass of every window shattered at once, scattering across the floor.

The Pope recognized him—this was of the Blood Race, a creature that, like the Werewolf, dwelled in shadow. He wasn’t surprised; the Church’s Epic Level tales held many such records.

Meanwhile.

The members of the Secret Corps who had come with Adis all revealed their true forms, unfurling pairs of black wings, baring long fangs as they launched into slaughter among the crowd.

In the Foreign Religion, Adis was not the only one of the Shadow Blood Race; an entire Secret Corps was formed from Shadow Blood Race. Some among them weren’t true Shadow Blood Race yet, but carried that bloodline, and at a certain moment they would truly erupt and transform into Shadow Blood Race.

Whether Shadow Blood Race or Werewolves, they were once humans, transformed under the influence of Chaos into immortal monsters. In gaining Power, they had lost the identity of being human.

Adis crashed into the Pope. His razor claws pierced the Pope’s chest, and with one hand he ripped out his heart.

At the same time, the Flaming Spear had skewered his abdomen, the flames ceaselessly scorching his flesh and blood, pouring out thick white smoke.

It looked like mutual devastation, neither side gaining any advantage.

But Adis was no longer human; this kind of wound meant little to him. Just as he was about to tear the Pope’s body apart with both hands, the cathedral shook again. The eastern wall burst open, revealing a gigantic thigh covered in Changmao, wreathed in Blazing White Demon fire.

It was the severed thigh of the Terrorwolf.

On the surface the Blazing White Demon seemed to have the advantage, but in truth it was because Su Changxing was feeding it with a massive amount of Faith.

Standing atop the mast, Su Changxing watched the scene quietly. Everything was still under his control.

After his promotion, his mastery over Faith had risen to a new tier; he could now confront a Terrorwolf, such an Epic Level creature, head-on.

If he had to compare, the Terrorwolf might be even stronger than Wanfang had been—only now its strength was suppressed by this world. Otherwise, just by standing there, this continent would already be a charnel ground.

"Mortal, you are blaspheming against the Divine Spirit!"

"You will fall into a state from which there is no redemption!"

"Retreat now, and I guarantee you will be forgiven!"

...

All kinds of mad voices rang in his ears. Su Changxing looked up at the sky, knowing they were the voices of the Divine Spirits, warning him.