Yun Wei remained silent.
He stood there expressionless, staring at the aloof old man from afar.
Those clear, black and white eyes were neither arrogant nor humble, neither sad nor happy, making it truly impossible to discern their depth.
Nicholas couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension.
He couldn't understand how the other person had returned to Moonflower City before him. Yes, even though they had only briefly crossed paths at the crossroads of Yinmaji, he had noticed this black-haired youth from Bili.
At that time, almost everyone was making the sign of the cross with their hands, but this seemingly unruly man and his servants sat quietly by the campfire, completely unmoved.
No wonder, the other party was actually a necromancer, a born heretic!
Following "that person's" instructions, he contacted the Corpse Puppet Mage to create enough chaos outside the city, hoping that the foolish silver dragon could nip the "Tower of Ten Thousand Laws" in the bud.
But it is clear that the city's layout has completely failed.
He was forced to go into hiding again. Putting all the blame on the necromancers was undoubtedly the safest option, since they were already universally hated and infamous.
But the necromancer who suddenly appeared before him was undoubtedly the biggest obstacle in his perfect plan.
Oh, Lord of Light, please! Heaven knows how a necromancer could appear in Moonflower City fifty years after the end of the War of the Dead, and even infiltrate the Deernagal Magic Academy, just in time for the Tower of Ten Thousand Laws to be repaired!
However, the nearly 20,000 corpse puppets outside the city were completely destroyed by this necromancer in such a short time.
Hmm, after thinking it over, he thinks it's best to be cautious.
After all, necromancers are evil beings that even "that great one" fears greatly...
As Nicholas appeared, the surrounding villagers knelt down, making devout hand gestures in front of their chests, praying for the mercy of the Lord of Light.
Normally, they would only see the high-ranking priests of the village church.
Cardinals are the closest servants to the Lord of Light, second only to the Pope!
With their limited imagination, they simply could not fathom that such a high-ranking figure would condescend to stand up for them in this darkest hour!
How fortunate they were to have His Excellency Bishop Nicholas personally uphold justice for them—
Oh, they must be messengers sent by the Lord of Light to save them!
In an instant, prayers of "Praise the Lord of Light" rose and fell. These villagers, who had been spared from death, firmly believed that the Lord of Light had always protected them, always saved them, always spurred them on, and never abandoned them.
To believe it to be true, to have no doubt about it.
"Hmph." Amidst a chorus of pious chants, Nicholas absorbed the power of faith with satisfaction. He snorted coldly and unleashed a mental pressure on the arrogant necromancer before him.
Generally speaking, among the three professions on the mainland, priests have the purest and most refined spiritual power, mages have the highest elemental affinity and the broadest knowledge, while warriors excel in physical strength and willpower.
Unsure of Yun Wei's capabilities, Nicholas chose the safest approach. His ability to outlast all his contemporaries at an advanced age and become a cardinal just one step away from the Pope was precisely due to this cautious and methodical approach.
His spiritual power condensed into the shape of an indestructible holy sword—a replica of the legendary 'Isaac's Sword,' which was said to have been able to wound even the Lord of Light—and then he slammed it down fiercely on the arrogant brat.
Holy light shone brightly, turning night into day. Divine and unparalleled, it swept away all obstacles!
The almost tangible spiritual power radiated a holy light, and with lightning speed, it squeezed the crumbling cracks in the ground along its path, launching a fierce attack on the mage who stood frozen in place.
"Just a necromancer at the end of his rope," Nicholas thought with a sinister grin. He could already imagine the gruesome sight of his opponent, bleeding from all seven orifices, becoming an idiot under the onslaught of his mental power.
Then, he could confidently step on the corpses of his opponent, and be recorded in history as a hero who had successfully saved the capital from the necromancer, so that future generations could admire and sing his praises.
Regardless of whether the Abyss ultimately conquers the Continent of Elements, he will be the winner.
This delicious, irresistible power of faith! He was completely addicted. He was certain he had touched the threshold of godhood—if he were constantly worshipped by these ignorant mortals, one day he too would become a god ruling the continent!
As for the Lord of Radiance? Ha, he's already taken the position of cardinal. He's not one of those foolish mortals who only know how to pray for the protection of some ethereal Lord of Radiance.
He still remembers the overwhelming shock he felt when he first saw the parchment scroll that recorded the history of the glorious battle.
It was as if his unwavering faith had been shattered in an instant, and then mixed with his sudden awakening of intelligence, it was ultimately reshaped into a new idol in his own image.
It was at that moment that the whispered words of "that person" echoed in his mind.
Ah, Lord of Glory?
The charlatan Dilis is nothing more than a light mage who was beaten into a corner by the Lord of the Abyss. With such a level of skill, does he deserve Nicholas's submission?
In his opinion, Dilis was simply lucky to have made contact with the Crown Prince of the Second Dynasty...
If it were him, the name of the Radiant Lord Nicholas would have resounded throughout the world long ago! These insignificant villagers should have been kept under his control, constantly kneeling and praying to him under the iron whip, offering him an endless stream of faith.
Thinking of this, he licked his dry lips somewhat recklessly, staring intently at the mage who was about to be brutally ravaged by his mental power.
See, this is yet another stepping stone on his path to godhood.
However, the scene he envisioned did not appear, and in the awkward silence, his soaring fantasies came to an abrupt end.
The holy sword, formed from immense spiritual power, slashed through, yet the opponent remained unharmed, even managing a mocking smile.
But then, the information fed back by his mental energy stirred up a storm in his heart.
His greatest reliance on becoming a god, the spiritual power he was so proud of, was like a drop of insignificant water falling into a vast ocean, not even causing a ripple amidst the surging waves.
"A cardinal of such stature, is this all he's capable of?" Nicholas exclaimed upon hearing this.
The hoarse voice was pleasant and deep, yet it could be clearly heard in the deathly silence, making it extremely jarring to him.
"Isn't he a cardinal? How come he's only this good..."
"Could it just be a pretty but useless decoration?"
Nicholas faintly heard the whispers of the ignorant people around him, and the surging power of faith that had surrounded him just a moment ago dried up completely in an instant.
What a cheap faith this is! He suddenly realized.
Blasphemers! They are all blasphemers! His eyes were bloodshot.
He gritted his teeth in frustration, then slammed the cover of the scripture in his palm and barked an order at the knight beside him:
"Bring him up here."
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