Chapter 146 Arrest

Weapons were scarce, even after gathering every available hunting rifle. Following the professor's improved formula, the raw materials for homemade bombs, flashbangs, and Molotov cocktails came partly from the school's inventory and partly from donations from the townspeople. Despite this, these life-saving supplies remained in short supply. The planners, guided by the professor's letters, calculated over and over again until supporters from the Kasa Strait arrived.

This group of people claimed to be from the Seamen's Union at the Skua Wharf in Casa Strait. There were about ten adult men and one young girl in total. They also brought a batch of weapons - some of which were donated by the Black County Coal Union. There were not many mines, but the stock of explosives used for mining was very rich - which were smuggled in batches in carriages.

The sturdy young man leading the group was called Esk Rabbi. When asked why he had come all the way to support Baita Town, he replied briefly and rudely, "Publicly, the Vatican is a piece of crap. Personally, I have a blood feud with them."

The students who heard the familiar surname quickly understood what "blood feud" meant. However, many of them looked at the young girl who seemed out of place in the support team and began to have doubts in their hearts - until she rushed to the front line alone, and blocked the Inquisition who was trying to return to the Inquisition with only a pair of fists.

Maxine expressionlessly brushed off the blood on her fist and grabbed the limp Judge, who had collapsed to the ground. He was completely devastated, surrounded by the shattered, unrecognizable bodies of his colleagues. Those who tried to escape were driven back by bullets.

"Please, please let me go, I—"

"How many innocent townspeople have you slaughtered in Baita Town? Did you let them go?" the red-haired girl asked sternly. She felt her hands trembling slightly with anger and excitement.

"I have never killed an innocent person, never..." The Judge trembled, blood foam oozing from between his teeth. "I am acting according to the orders of His Excellency Bishop Matthews. Those arrested are all heretics with unforgivable sins. There are absolutely no innocent people among them. The light will see the difference and will never make a mistake..."

"Really?"

Maxine coldly stared at the man's pupils, dilated with fear. He sincerely believed this: rebelling against the Church was a sin, questioning the gods was a sin, and killing "heretics" with the most brutal means was natural and logical. Suddenly, she felt a surge of sadness. With a sudden force, the judge's neck went limp, and he lost his breath.

A tsunami of cheers echoed in the distance, mingled with the smoke-filled explosions of gunfire and bullets. It was astonishing that humans could actually produce such a deafening roar. Marshilin looked up, and above the sky, the magnificent stars blazed in awe.

The Inquisition was breached by the townspeople of White Tower.

…

Pavaton Miller, the judge who hadn't seen him before his death, was wandering through the underground cemetery tunnels. The chilly cemetery, the foul air, had made the cardinal, always mindful of his appearance, oblivious to the cleanliness of his white robes. The magic orb on his scepter emitted a faint glow, guiding him in a certain direction.

The deeper he went into the cemetery, the more horrified Pavaton Miller became. The corpses of the Sons of Life lay scattered along the path. Their faces were swollen and purple beneath their masks, as if they had been suffocated. The killer hadn't even bothered to touch them with a weapon. He had to guess it was the work of a wind sorcerer.

Pawanton Miller suddenly dodged and hid deep in the shadows. The magic guided him, and Dante Matthews was in the laboratory ahead, but he vaguely saw his colleague crawling humbly on the ground, trembling all over.

What kind of existence is enough to make a cardinal lose his dignity and be seized by fear?

Soon Pavaton Miller found out.

He was suddenly grabbed by the collar by an unprecedented force and dragged into the laboratory without resistance. He was thrown to the ground in a heap, a terrifying pressure crushing his back. Miller could even hear the sound of bones shattering inch by inch. Blood flowed from the corners of his mouth and nostrils, and his head was plowed directly into the mud.

"So he's Zephiel's slave."

Pavaton Miller heard a familiar voice, but it was completely different from the first time he heard it. The cold and terrifying majesty contained in it was enough to make all human souls tremble and surrender.

"It seems your master still refuses to give up." Someone stepped up to him. The Cardinal was so overwhelmed that he couldn't lift his head. He suspected his neck would break if he tried to look directly at the other person.

He could only vaguely see the newcomer's boots—even the soles were spotless, as if dirt was completely sealed off. A wind sorcerer could do this, but no sorcerer, not even a saint, would expend precious mana on a prolonged spell that required such extreme precision control, just to maintain cleanliness.

Except for the gods who can be regarded as the embodiment of ideas.

Pavaton Miller felt his neck begin to burn violently. This was the God of Light asking for His descent - but there were not enough devout believers here. Forcing His descent would cause the God to consume too much energy, and in the end, he was the only one to suffer.

The God of Storms seemed to have noticed something and sneered softly. The madness contained in his sneer was simply creepy. "I understand - you all want him?"

Suddenly, Pavardon Miller felt the weight on his head lift. He lifted his head with difficulty, only to see the chosen one, Nova, lying at the feet of the Storm God, his hands and feet shackled, his life or death uncertain. But soon, an invisible force grabbed him by the neck and lifted him up. The pale, thin young man coughed a few times and forced his eyes open.

"You still can't kill me." He gave the god an extremely labored and provocative smile, which frightened Pavaton Miller. "Are you afraid? Afraid that if I die, you will disappear too—"

The god seemed to be angered by him. After all, apart from showing leniency to the Natalin people, this god was always known for his tyranny and capriciousness. The black-haired young man was thrown heavily to the ground, curled up trembling.

Just as the god's attention was focused on Nova, Pavaton Miller suddenly vanished. A blindingly bright light suddenly exploded in the tunnel, followed by a raging wind that swept everything away. Miller clearly heard the God of Light's furious voice in his ear, "I will help you. I want that ordinary person. Bring him back to me alive!"

"...Of course, my God." His neck was burning with pain as if he were dying. The cardinal suppressed the urge to scream and squeezed out a few words from between his teeth.

Nova half-closed his eyes, the gentle wind silently surrounding him until a slight ripple appeared. He suddenly raised his head and stared at someone who, according to common sense, had no chance of being here: "...Miss Carleton."

The girl in the black dress shushed him, fished out a key she had stolen from somewhere, and undid the shackles on his limbs. Her voice was soft and quiet, "They're fighting now, and they don't have the energy to pay attention to this place right now."

The professor frowned and asked, "How on earth did an ordinary person like you get here?"

"Of course, because I am an ordinary person, they don't care about me." said the girl with a smile.

Nova slowly narrowed his eyes. The shackles on his body were removed. He stretched his wrists and slowly sat up, staring at the girl's face with an extremely cold look: "Are you really Emilia Carleton?"

The girl in the black dress paused. She slowly raised her head, and Nova saw a strange vortex swirling in her eyes.

"I really like you, dear." She smiled softly, and her beautiful young face revealed a very charming and splitting feeling. "You are a smart man, which makes me want to conquer you - I want to eat you up bit by bit."

"...The Goddess of Love, Analene."

"You can also call me dear, the one chosen by God who I don't even know when he chose me." The girl's cold fingers pinched the black-haired young man's chin with a creepy force, forcing him to raise his head and expose his fragile neck.

"It's time to end the pleasantries, even though I really want to talk to you." She sighed softly and pulled out a teleportation scroll from her bosom. "Who let the damn Storm God destroy my Apatara? And this body is too fragile. Every move consumes too much energy."

Nova stared at her expressionlessly.

The Goddess of Lust suddenly sensed something was amiss. The ominous premonition that had been swirling in her mind since entering this place suddenly reached its peak. Her vision shook violently, and then the slender and petite girl was sent flying, crashing directly into the wall, and gradually collapsing.

The one who did it was Dante Matthews, who was already unconscious. He looked inexplicably excited. He picked up the scalpel scattered on the ground and rushed towards the Chosen One who had no ability to resist: "I just want to kill you, I just want to kill you——"

"--No!"

The Goddess of Love screamed in terror and fury, her voice overlapping with that of Pavardon Miller, who was hurled back by the God of Storms. Seeing the raging hurricane approaching, the Goddess of Love gritted her teeth, knowing her chance was completely lost. Nova once again saw the twisted, ghostly creature leap from Emilia Caledon's eyes and charge straight at his brow.

But this time, countless runes suddenly lit up on the surface of the laboratory, and the ghost-like thing was trapped in mid-air by countless translucent chains, letting out a hysterical roar.

"—got you."

The Goddess of Love met a pair of blazing golden eyes with a startled look. The Storm God glanced at her coldly before helping the Chosen One, who was reclining on the ground, to his feet. The Chosen One frowned, stretched his neck, and looked at Pavaton Miller, whose life or death was unknown, floating behind the Storm God. There was even a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone.

"What about this one? Didn't you catch it?"