Maine, the genius of Black Purple City, the pure-blooded descendant of the powerful fifth-level spirit ring An'goro, did not seem to take the previous events to heart. He was being welcomed, with many flowers and applause, many people's praises, and admiring glances from many beautiful girls.

Not only Morin and the other fourth-level True Meaning, but also the others, including Maine who was immersed in the cheers, did not pay the slightest attention.

Shelov had a gloomy face and was watching the scene in front of him quietly.

After a moment, Shelov turned around and walked to the remote back of the hall, his body slowly disappearing into the darkness and shadows.

In the shadows ahead, someone was already waiting there. It was none other than Angolo's personal butler, Byron.

"Byron." Shelov stared at Byron in front of him. He roared, and a dense and low sound came out of his throat. His dark brown hair stood up, as if he was not a vampire, but a real lion.

"Sherov... Ugh!"

Byron looked at Shelov, bowed slightly, and was about to say something, but the next moment, Shelov moved his body, rushed over suddenly, and slammed Byron heavily against the wall.

Byron groaned and roared in pain. He wanted to say something, but no words came out. In front of him was Shelov, whose eyes were staring at him.

"Byron, old Byron, have you forgotten the agreement with me? Didn't you say that you would help me become the future master of Black Purple City?" Shelov's body trembled slightly. He suddenly roared, "How can you help me in this situation? Tell me, how can you help me?!"

"Look, look, Maine, my nephew Maine, how much praise he has received. His blood was originally very pure. Later, he married three vampire brides. Not to mention his more pure-blooded descendants, just his own blood will be further purified. You originally said that there was something wrong with Maine's blood, but now tell me, what's wrong with him?" Shelov's arm pressed heavily on Byron's throat, his eyes extremely ferocious.

Byron's face had turned extremely pale. He wanted to speak, but he could only breathe hard, which looked extremely difficult.

Shelov quietly watched Byron struggling hard. After a long time, when Byron was about to give up, he moved his hand and let Byron go.

"Byron, old Byron, don't forget, you said you would come to help me." Shelov leaned over, looking at Byron who kept coughing and looked extremely embarrassed, stretched out his hand, gently pulled Byron's messy collar, looked into Byron's eyes, and said, "Don't forget, understand?"

"No... I won't forget it." Byron kept coughing. He looked a little flustered and didn't dare to look at Shelov at all.

Shelov smiled slightly, helped Byron straighten the collar of his clothes, then slowly stood up and said, "The blood moon will come soon, and Mayne will come to marry his bride. This is our last chance, and we cannot miss it."

"No, no, Sherov... cough... cough cough..."

Byron stood up slowly. He was speaking, but his voice was intermittent and sounded very difficult.

"That's good." Shelov turned around, took one last look at Byron, and said, "Byron, God won't bless you. All we can do is believe in ourselves."

Having said that, Shelov turned around and slowly walked away.

Byron sat on the ground for a while before slowly standing up with the help of the wall.

He returned to the banquet as if nothing had happened and continued to do other things. Finally, after a long time, the banquet was over. Byron asked the servants to clean up the place. Only after everything was restored did he turn around and leave.

However, Byron did not return to his room to rest. He came to the corner of a staircase and stood in front of the darkness. As his lips moved slightly, the darkness here soon changed silently and appeared in a strange dark door.

There was also a staircase on the other side of the door, winding downwards, and it was unknown where it led to.

Byron didn't hesitate much about the newly appeared staircase. He moved his body and walked straight in.

He walked a long distance, took the stairs, walked through the tunnel, and walked the last section of the road. Finally, he appeared in an underground hall.

The surroundings were dark, with faint lights flickering.

Byron walked straight forward and came to the front of the platform. He looked at the many believers in black robes gathered below and a fascinated smile appeared on his face.

"god……"

“God, God…”

The believers raised their arms high and cheered.

"God, God." Byron turned around and looked at the huge statue in front of the platform, which was shrouded in huge darkness and only vaguely showed a strange shape. His face showed great admiration and fanaticism.

"You are above all else, may your blessing be upon you."

"God, the blood moon is coming. The moment we have waited for so long has come. Please be patient."

As Byron spoke, he knelt on the ground and made a strange prayer gesture on his chest, praying to the statue in front of him.

Many believers below the platform also knelt on the ground, shouting the name of God and praying.

There was an indescribable breath in the air. The whole hall was filled with great fanaticism due to the faith of the devout believers. In the front, above the statue, black wave shadows emerged, gurgling, gurgling, like ocean waves, or like countless quagmires.

A faint purple light appeared in God's eyes, flowing continuously.

God finally opened his eyes and gazed quietly at the believers on earth.

In a trance, countless moving voices rang out.

god.

Oh my god...

…………

The courtyard is deep, with tall tree canopies supporting branches and casting dense shade.

There was an old man in linen clothes under the big tree. He stared at the carvings on the stone table with warm eyes, but his brows were slightly furrowed, as if he was lost in thought.

Mary came under the big tree and looked at the old man, feeling a little uneasy.

"Your Holiness."

Mary bowed toward the old man, showing great respect.

She was indeed very respectful, because this old man in sackcloth was the Pope of Eternal Holy Light and one of only two level six thrones in the wizarding world.

Throne of Light.

His name is Usdima. He has been on the throne for a long, long time, and has been guarding the eternal holy light for a long, long time.

"Mary, you shouldn't have come here." Usdima raised his eyes and looked at Mary in front of him. He spoke lightly. His eyes were warm and bright, but there was an indescribable power in them, which made Mary lower her head and dare not look at him. He said: "Angolo and his men killed our priest of Eternal Holy Light. Although you are a red priest, it is also very dangerous for you to come here."

"Your Holiness, I just, just..."

Mary's lips moved slightly. She wanted to say something, but no words came out.

"He asked you to come here, didn't he?" Usdima seemed to have thought of something. He smiled and said, "The man you brought back from the Lionheart Principality, their second prince, Allen."

Alan?

The man who stole the sacred fire and finally left the Lionheart Principality seemed to be walking in endless light.

"I had a conversation with him."

Mary was silent for a moment, then she continued, "But, actually, I want to come and see it myself."

"Your Majesty, I know it is very dangerous here, but I want to know why I cannot become a true Red High Priest."

"Yes, I am the blood of the Night Bat, and one of the purest bloods. But you adopted me and have been using the power of light to cleanse my body. Now I don't have any dark aura. You can say that I am a human girl. I have come to this point step by step. Finally, not long ago, I became a fourth-level true meaning, but I cannot become a high priest of judgment."

"Your Majesty... Your Majesty... I can't pull out the Sword of Judgment. No matter how hard I try, I can't pull it out."

As Mary spoke, her shoulders twitched slightly and she looked in great pain.

At her waist, there was a black cross sword, hanging quietly at her waist, hanging down, motionless, looking particularly indifferent.

“Mary, child, my child.” Usdima came to Mary’s side, he sighed, stretched out his hand, gently patted Mary’s shoulder, and said: “Judgment, the High Priest of Judgment who cuts off all darkness, Mary, you have just become a fourth-level true meaning, this is too heavy for you, you…”

"Your Majesty, when I was nine years old, I took the Sword of Judgment from you, and I decided that in this life, Judgment would be my destiny."

"Be with the light and destroy the darkness."

Mary's voice was very soft, but there was an indescribable firmness in her voice.

Usdima looked at Mary quietly and shook his head.

"In Black and Purple City, you can draw out the Sword of Judgment." He looked at Mary and said this.

"You don't need to go to the blood moon to kill your three sisters."

Mary shuddered.

She raised her head, looked at Usdima in front of her, moved her body, and bowed again.

"Thank you... Your Majesty, thank you, thank you for telling me." She said softly.