Chapter 1424: Victory

In the pitch-black, dim corridor, footsteps gradually approached, getting closer and closer, carrying panic and fear, like a poor soul chased by nightmares. His heart raced, blood boiling, terror accumulating like a dormant volcano, harboring malice until one moment it erupted forth.

Anthony gasped, leaning against the wall. It was clearly just a simple escape, yet he felt as if he had just fought a hard battle, exhausted, every inch of his body seized by countless hands, pulling him forcefully, trying to drag him underwater.

The exit was right in front of him, and Anthony crashed into the elevator, rusty iron railings slowly closing, and then the whole started to rise. Amidst dust and glimmering light, Anthony could hear the roar of beasts, followed by more thunderous sounds of swords clashing.

Metal clashed, scraped, tore into countless fragments of iron, finally settling into dust and disappearing without a trace.

“Your Eminence…”

Anthony watched the rising gap, attempting to look through it towards the frenzied battlefield, but it was only a hopeful wish. From here, nothing could be seen, only layers of darkness remained.

Leaning into a corner, still some distance from reaching the Gate of Celestial Kingdom, this place temporarily turned into an undisturbed refuge, allowing Anthony to rest briefly. Here, he wouldn’t be seen doing anything, even in fear and tears.

No one knew what he was thinking, just as no one knew why farewells always came so suddenly, without warning.

But on second thought, this is what reality should be—strange, mysterious, not like in literary operas with lengthy build-up. In reality, whether life or death, it happens in an instant.

Anthony’s rest didn’t last long, as the elevator quickly reached the Gate of Celestial Kingdom. The gate, engraved with demons and angels, slowly opened, casting a dust-laden light through the railings onto Anthony.

He raised his head, his eyes bloodshot, lifelessly rising to adjust his disheveled clothing. He coughed a few times, accompanied by the fully opened iron railings, Anthony stepped out of the shadows, his demeanor turning from calm to fierce, shedding the fragility from earlier, fully armed once again.

“Priest!”

Someone called out.

“Fr. Anthony!”

More voices called for him, waiting for his response.

The Demon Hunters had already gathered here, their expressions tense, holding sharp Nail Swords.

At the moment when black mist erupted from the deep well, the foul rotten, nausea-inducing distortion spread out. Ordinary people might find it somewhat disgusting, but these Demon Hunters keenly sensed it all and rushed here.

“What should we do?”

Samuel stepped forward, not asking what happened, just waiting for Anthony’s orders.

Anthony looked at them, silent for a few seconds, his gaze resolute again.

“Guard the Gate of Celestial Kingdom, seal Saint Nalos Cathedral!”

With his words, the Demon Hunters moved into action. Just like many years ago on the Night of the Holy Arrival, perhaps the cycle of history truly exists. Everything happening now is so familiar, constantly repeating. Every time people are about to forget it, it crawls back from the shadows, like deceased unwilling to be forgotten.

Since the new Pope remained in the Static Holy Temple, Saint Nalos Cathedral was rarely visited. Now the sealing was proceeding smoothly, heavy iron doors closed one by one, inscribed with inscriptions cursing Ghost God, like towering shields.

The Holy Hall Knights were also mobilized. They might not be as strong as Demon Hunters, but with sufficient numbers and high-quality weapons and armor, they possessed considerable fighting prowess.

They galloped quickly, surrounding Saint Nalos Cathedral, guarding every pathway.

“Then seal the Seven Hills.”

Anthony hid in the shadows, issuing cold orders.

In his eyes, the entire Seven Hills transformed into a giant chessboard. With the new Pope’s fate uncertain, he was the lone player, controlling Demon Hunters, Holy Hall Knights, soldiers—all becoming his pieces, manipulated and driven.

“Clear out all believers, except for our soldiers; the Holy City needs no one else.”

Under chilling orders, the soldiers shed their usual gentleness, brutally smashing open doors, barking at the refusing believers, forcing them to leave. Some soldiers faced resistance, but this time they chose to cover it with blood. Some difficult believers, when necessary, the Demon Hunters would intervene and easily dismantle them.

Everything proceeded in an orderly manner. In times of crisis, apart from orders, nothing else mattered. The sounds of fighting rang out, blood flowed within Seven Hills.

The Holy Hall Knights stationed outside Seven Hills also received orders, starting to drive away the believers still lingering on the edges of Seven Hills, organizing massive groups, leading them towards Florence.

If Seven Hills was the place of faith of the Holy Evangelical Pope Kingdom, then Florence was its pinnacle in the secular world. It took in a large number of driven believers, and these believers continued to disperse.