Chapter 1421: Soul-Reviving Corpses_3

Night of the Holy Arrival.

In the midst of contemplation, more scratching sounds arise, resembling sharp nails scraping against metal, leaving behind small scratches and releasing piercing shrieks.

The darkness at the bottom of the well became restless, and amidst the spreading black mist, the new Pope saw vague, writhing figures, as if countless worms were crawling up from the well.

“What’s going on!”

Perhaps due to psychological pressure, Anthony’s expression showed some tension, but he was grabbed by the new Pope, whose snarling face appeared before him.

“Calm down, Anthony, listen to me.”

The new Pope stared directly into Anthony’s eyes, forcing him to listen.

“Hear me out, now, immediately leave the Static Holy Temple, seal off here, seal off the entire Saint Nalos Cathedral, seal off the entire Seven Hills!”

The voice was like thunder, splitting the evil anomaly inside Anthony’s heart, he calmed down, nodding.

“Yes, we must completely seal off this place, under any circumstances guard the Gate of the Celestial Kingdom, do not allow any Demon to escape, hold out until reinforcements arrive.”

“Reinforcements? Do we have reinforcements?”

Anthony was baffled, the new Pope’s eyes also dimmed slightly but quickly brightened again, as if speaking to Anthony, or perhaps to himself.

“They will come, they surely will.”

He grabbed another Nail Sword, and forcefully pushed Anthony.

“Go quickly! Anthony!”

The new Pope urged, recalling the Night of the Holy Arrival buried deep in memory.

“First came the nightmare from the well, then the continuous spreading corrosion, more and more people in the town will transform into Demons! No matter what, hold the Seven Hills!”

Anthony was pushed forward a few steps, soon realizing something, he looked towards the new Pope walking towards the well with the sword, shouting.

“What about you!”

“Me? Someone has to stay here, to hold them off.”

The new Pope continued forward without turning back.

“Don’t worry, this is something I should have done long ago.”

The sword blade scraping the ground emitted the same piercing screech as within the well, filled with rage, feeling like he returned to that very night.

“In the end, I’m just a Soul-Reviving Corpse, I should have died that night, now I’m just resetting everything!”

Rage boiled over, nearly bursting through his veins, erupting forth.

Anthony was both fearful and hesitant, watching the departing figure, suddenly realizing this might be the last time he sees the new Pope, he impulsively shouted.

“Wait! Your Holiness! What exactly is faith?”

This was the question Anthony had long been pursuing, he hoped to find the answer from the new Pope, but he was about to leave, this was his last chance to seek an answer.

Raging black mist spread over the well’s mouth, constantly overflowing from the well, in an instant the gray smokiness obscured the new Pope’s figure, falling silent.

“Sorry, I don’t know either!”

Suddenly the sound of thunder broke out, the sword blade whipped up wind pressure, easily cutting through the dispersing mist, driving it away, the menacing figure once again emerged before Anthony.

He crouched, gripping the sword, like a silver white wolf, turned back, but Anthony couldn’t see the new Pope’s face.

“But I think you already have the answer.”

The new Pope seemed to wave goodbye to him, but it also appeared like swinging the sword, the sound of evil anomaly howling in the black mist echoed, Anthony gritted his teeth, moving his leaden legs towards the end of darkness.

Watching Anthony’s departure, the new Pope turned towards the black well in the black mist, a series of gruesome and sharp hands extended from the edge, climbing out of the well, standing before the new Pope.

Viewing the Demon Hunters of past generations, corruption concealed beneath their corpses.

Thinking about the outcome of all this, the new Pope’s heart inevitably felt a hint of sorrow, but soon, this sorrow was replaced by rage.

“Gentlemen, I am the Pope, you should kneel!”

Sainy Loter laughed maniacally, lifting the Nail Sword, tearing out a silver-white arc in the air, leaping into a strike.

The high-pitched shriek of the sword tolling combined with the sinister sounds of flesh tearing, as if Demons were battling here, fighting to the death.