Whatever the reason, these actions by the Holy City's leadership made Alfonso feel a sense of crisis.
He stood up, his holy silver armor clanging as he strode to the window, gazing at the area in the direction of the inner city that faintly radiated a divine glow even in daylight. His voice was resolute:
"Since they've been so ruthless, don't blame me, Alfonso Lin, for having to hold back! ... Perhaps they already knew I'd have something up my sleeve!"
...
Holy City, the Pope's bedroom.
late at night.
The heavy velvet curtains blocked out the starlight, leaving only a few crystal lamps emitting a faint, cold light that cast shadowy shadows on the huge dome inlaid with golden holy symbols.
The air was still, filled with the chilling aura unique to those in power that even expensive incense couldn't mask.
A figure dressed in an elaborate and ornate papal robe stood with his back to the empty hall in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside the window, the iconic and magnificent buildings of the holy city were outlined solemnly in the moonlight, and further away, the "Heart of the Holy Light," symbolizing the supreme authority of the Church, stood—
The spire of the Radiant Cathedral is still faintly visible.
But that light seemed to have no effect on warming the palace at all.
"Have they... arrived?"
The Pope's voice rang out, deep and steady, devoid of any emotion, as if he were merely inquiring about the weather.
The shadow behind him seemed to come alive. After a slight ripple, a figure shrouded in a pure black cloak that seemed to absorb light silently appeared.
There was no face, only an abyss-like darkness beneath the hood.
"As you predicted, Your Majesty." The shadowy voice was dry and direct, like sandpaper scraping. "The Holy Son of the Abyss Church, the Time Witch Rita, the Fallen Knight Balg... the core of the Enlightenment Society has all infiltrated the Holy City."
"The aura was well concealed, but it couldn't escape the senses of the 'fanatics.' They are like the most patient vipers, lurking in the shadows, and have approached the Cathedral of Glory multiple times."
The Pope's lips seemed to curve upwards almost imperceptibly, a curve so cold it was devoid of warmth.
He continued to gaze at the bright moon outside the window, its light casting a cold glow on his silvery-white hair.
“Very good.” He uttered two words softly, with an indifferent air of complete control. “The Heart of the Holy Light? Ha… If they want it, let them take it. Adjust the defenses to ensure their movements are unimpeded.”
He paused, a chill creeping into his voice:
"Of course, it would be even more perfect if, during this lively handover, that meddlesome 'old thing' in the Holy City Monastery and his few troublesome disciples were to accidentally run into this group of dangerous heretics and unfortunately 'die'... After all, the minions of the abyss have always been ruthless, haven't they?"
The dark figure lowered its head deeply, the shadows seeming to grow even darker: "Yes, Your Majesty. The Abbot and his followers will surely shed their last drop of blood to protect their faith."
The words were filled with an unspoken cruelty.
“Go, and do it cleanly. The Holy City’s ‘new era’ has no place for such outdated stubbornness.”
The Pope's voice was like a final verdict.
The shadowy figure vanished silently into the shadows of the palace, like ink dripping into water, as if it had never existed.
The palace fell silent again, with only the faint hum of the Holy Crystal Lamp.
The Pope finally turned around slowly.
His aged yet still sharp eyes reflected the cold, round moon outside the window, but there was no longer a trace of the piety a believer should have.
He walked to a low table inlaid with jewels and elegantly picked up a glass of wine that had already been brewed and was as dark as blood.
He raised his cup to the high-hanging bright moon.
The cold moonlight fell on his expressionless face and also on the deep red wine in the glass, reflecting an eerie glow.
"My lords..." His deep voice echoed in the empty palace, carrying a sense of calm, "The decaying old chapters have been turned, and the curtain of a new world is about to be drawn. With the key of the heart of the ancient Holy Light as a sacrifice... may we usher in this new era."
The crimson liquid in the glass was drunk in one gulp, as if he had drunk some kind of silent covenant.
The palace was plunged into a deep, somber darkness once more, with only the unchanging moonlight outside the window coldly watching over the Holy City, watching the very center of the power vortex of the human race on the Holy Dragon Continent, where a colossal wave was about to be unleashed.
...
Ellen's spatial magic tore through the sky, carrying Mark's team on one jump after another.
The vast landscape of the Holy Dragon Continent swept past below, eventually being replaced by a boundless, verdant plain.
At the edge of the horizon, a majestic city, like a pure white crown embedded in the earth, suddenly came into view.
The Holy City of the Church of Holy Light – Saint Jelamia.
It truly deserves its name as the core of the Holy Light Church.
The entire city is built of pure white marble, which flows with a warm and sacred milky white halo under the sunlight.
The towering city walls stretched endlessly, their height far exceeding that of ordinary human kingdoms.
The walls are made of countless huge white stones with sacred reliefs stacked on top of each other, creating an indestructible and solemn visual effect.
At intervals along the city wall stand pointed towers, each topped with a huge holy emblem that radiates a soft golden light.
That is the symbol of the Church of Holy Light, like an inextinguishable lighthouse, clearly visible even in daylight, spreading the light of faith in all directions.
In the city center, several even more magnificent clusters of giant spires, their tops piercing the sky, rise from the ground.
That is the heart of the holy city, home to the Radiant Cathedral and the Cardinals' Temple.
The rays of light gathered at the spire almost formed a solid pillar of light, as if connecting with the sky, proclaiming an unquestionable sacred authority.
Even from a great distance, one could feel the majestic, pure, and intangible aura of holy light.
Like a warm tide enveloping the entire plain, it also clearly distinguishes between "believers" and "outsiders".
Just like the rules circulating in mainland China.
The Holy City is the heart of the faith in Holy Light.
Except on specific pilgrimage days or with special permission, only devout believers are allowed to enter.
The inner city area, the core area protected by the Radiant Spire, is the true power center of the Holy Light Church and the location of the holy site "Heart of Holy Light".
It is heavily guarded, and only those who hold official clergy in the church are allowed to enter.
Mark's squad landed in a concealed spot some distance from the city gate.
Ellen put away the Star Moon Black Gold, and the lingering echo of the spatial leap slowly dissipated in the air.
She gazed at the city of light, her eyes filled with solemnity.
It seems they weren't too late this time; the holy city still appears peaceful.
Enzo, carrying his rune-forged hammer, twitched his lava-like beard and muttered, "Tsk, blindingly white. Don't the people of the Church of the Holy Light go blind living in a place like this?"
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