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Chapter 639 — The Last Wall

Blade of Dawn Page 2 of 2

Finally, he struck the scepter against the ground a third time.

"Praise the name of the Lord. You are the first shelter in the darkness, the first hope that mortals sought. All living things shall forever pursue the light, even as You shall forever shelter all living things—You are the origin and the end, self-existent and self-sufficient, everlasting and unceasing. We pray that You descend into this world under Your shelter: so it was in days of old, and so it is today—"

A holy and unearthly chime rang out with a thunderous crash, drowning out all the prayer and praise in the Great Hall of Light. The bell towers of the whole Yaoxiao Cathedral rang out as well, and the chimes of the real and the unreal answered one another.

Amid the tolling, a radiant mirror image suddenly separated from the body of Saint Ivan III. This image overlapped with the luminous giant standing behind him; the two swiftly merged and abruptly shot upward—

Above the Yaoxiao Cathedral, a giant fully a hundred meters tall slowly rose to its feet.

The descent rite had succeeded.

Upon the wall of Saint Sunil, Wales Moen watched quietly as that radiant giant rose up from within the city, watched the light it released spread swiftly toward the wall, and could not help but be moved.

"So that is the power of a god..."

Even as he sighed, the Great Shield that had shrouded the royal capital to this day finally reached the limit of its operation. With a series of strange shrieks and tearing sounds, great swaths of noise-spots swiftly covered the barrier, and in the next instant it burst apart in all directions, scattering into a sky full of surging motes of light that rained down upon the royal capital. And almost at the very moment the shield collapsed, the giant forged of light spread its arms, and walls of crystal-like light pierced the foul clouds above the plain, layer upon layer, sheltering the entire wall.

The crystal-cluster monsters, knowing no reason, felt not the slightest fear of this power from a god; instead they were roused to frenzy by this sudden eruption of vast energy and began to howl madly, their assault turning ever more ferocious. Countless giants hurled lightning, hurled their own bodies, even self-destructed to batter that "new shield," yet the giant forged of light merely kept its arms spread wide, and the shield wall sheltering the whole city stood immovable.

Such was the descent art of Saint Ivan III—the "Heaven on Earth" that could place the entire royal capital of Ansul in a state of temporary invincibility!

Bai Yu Franklin gazed at the holy-light giant that sheltered the whole royal capital and could not help but sigh softly, "A pity. If Saint Ivan III were twenty years younger... no, even ten years younger, the descent art could hold for more than three days, and Saint Sunil could hold out until reinforcements arrived without fail..."

Wales did not answer Bai Yu. He only frowned, his gaze sweeping across the southern wall—under the baptism of holy light, countless exhausted officers and soldiers had their stamina restored; wave after wave of spiritual encouragement brought them into a state of joy and gratitude. The soldiers brought out their holy-light amulets and began to pray, and even the few who did not believe in the God of Holy Light could not help but begin praising the name of the God of Holy Light.

He drew a slight breath and raised his longsword high: "Make haste and rest! Eat, drink, check your weapons—waste no time!!"

"The Descent of the Divine is bound by time! Once it ends, all that will remain of Saint Sunil's defense line will be our flesh and blood!"

"This is our last chance to rest and regroup—seize it, and hold out until reinforcements arrive!!"

At the king's shout, the soldiers and officers who had been lost in gratitude for the Holy Light were jolted awake. They realized that this safety before their eyes was in truth exceedingly brief; the Great Shield of Saint Sunil had already collapsed, and at this moment the entire defense line was being sustained only by a divine art forcibly unleashed by a decrepit old man. Upon this realization, everyone on the city walls sprang into action at once, drinking and eating, seizing what time they had to rest and recover their strength, preparing to meet the final challenge.

Within the Yaoxiao Cathedral, in the corridor before the entrance to the Great Hall of Light, Virolde stood alone, gazing quietly at the tightly shut door.

To ensure the Descent of the Divine proceeded without mishap, all attendants and lower-ranking priests had been dismissed. At present only a company of ascetic monks and a company of inner-court knights stood guard outside the building, and in the corridor leading to the hall, she was utterly alone.

"The Descent of the Divine, is it..." Virolde murmured softly. A solemn, sacred aura ceaselessly drifted out from behind the door ahead, faintly resonating with the Holy Light upon her own body, yet at the very moment of imminent fusion, the two parted cleanly and distinctly. "This time, it truly is the purest sample in seven hundred years..."

Amid her soft soliloquy, this "Saint Princess" walked unhurriedly toward the door ahead, then casually pushed open the door of the Great Hall of Light without the slightest hesitation.

Surging Holy Light instantly filled Virolde's vision. Wave after wave of luminous tide rushed toward her, yet all that radiance, upon drawing near to her, turned into gentle, drifting streams of light and silently dissipated.

Within the hall, the bishops deep in pious prayer seemed utterly unaware that someone had entered this space. Every bishop in a state of supplication maintained the same posture, as though they were automatons running on their own. Only the Pope at the center of the hall reacted to Virolde's arrival. This "spokesman," already faintly merged with the Holy Light, countless streams of radiance coursing through his entire body, slowly lifted his eyelids and emitted a voice as slow and labored as rusted iron: "Vero... nica... why... have you... suddenly... come in..."

"Only to inform you that this experimental project is over."

The Pope's mind was clearly in an exceedingly sluggish state: "Experimental... project?"

Virolde smiled faintly and unhurriedly placed her hand upon the platinum scepter in the hands of Saint Ivan III, saying softly: "Yes. The project concerning the nature of the divine and the laws of its operation."

"What are you... doing..." The Pope's voice finally regained a trace of human quality. He seemed to be struggling to break free from this state of sluggish thought, and a certain panic appeared in his tone. "You will... destroy all of this... Xuanque City..."

Virolde grasped the platinum scepter and little by little drew it from the hands of Saint Ivan III: "No. The Descent of the Divine will continue, and Xuanque City will not be destroyed—but that will have nothing to do with your god."

As the platinum scepter was stripped away, Saint Ivan III's voice finally became fluid, his tone filled with shock, fury, and bewilderment: "Who are you, really?!"

"Merely a defier," Virolde said with a faint smile, gently touching the head of the scepter to Saint Ivan III. "The Norton royal house sends its regards to you and to the master behind you."

Miaoshuwu

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