Chapter 488 — Collapse
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
The heresy trial had spiraled to the brink of losing all control.
Faran Belan had imagined every possible variable that might arise during a heresy trial, and the greatest crisis he had conceived of was the failure of his own divine art—after all, using the Grand Word of God to identify heretics was subject to countless uncontrollable factors, and his own strength was not yet great enough to control this divine art with absolute certainty.
But he had never imagined that the unexpected would strike from the exact opposite direction: his divine art had been strengthened.
When he saw that milky-white halo spreading across the entire plaza, Faran Belan realized the situation was about to become utterly unmanageable.
Because he had, in fact, known from the very beginning that scarcely a soul among the common folk in the outer districts of Luan could possibly pass the trial of the Grand Word of God.
The long blockade had already severely eroded the will of the faithful, and the leaflets circulating throughout the city were shaking every person's belief in the God of Holy Light. Faran Belan might not have cared about the lives of the lower classes, but as a seasoned priest, he at least understood human hearts—at the very least, he understood how feeble the resolve of ordinary people could become under such circumstances. And in contrast, the "Grand Word of God" was an exceedingly rigorous trial—in truth, when this divine art was first created, it had never been intended for the heresy trials of ordinary people at all. Its true purpose was to test the strength of will of the clergy!
Applying this divine art—meant for testing superhumans—to ordinary people and calling it a "heresy trial" had a very simple intent: it existed only to ensure that every person standing on the opposite side of the Church could be swiftly condemned.
Thus this trial had been devoid of any fairness from the very start, because in truth, no matter whom the soldiers dragged up from the plaza, that person had a ninety-nine percent chance of being judged a heretic!
The interim bishop of Frostgate City immediately cut off his own maintenance of the divine art, yet the situation did not change in the slightest: the aftermath of the Grand Word of God had been amplified by some unknown force, and it was still spreading—and had already come to loom over the heads of those on the plaza!
The commoners stirred in panic, but there was no time to escape the divine art's range. The pure white halo swept over every head, and what happened next left every priest utterly at a loss: one after another, rippling, shattering screens of light emerged upon the commoners, and one after another, they were judged heretics by the divine art!
The halo spread onward, and the rippling, breaking screens of light stretched out in an unbroken expanse—and among those countless "heretic" marks, those who could still maintain a steady Holy Light numbered less than one in ten, and even that one in ten glowed dim and faint, ready to extinguish at any moment, hardly qualifying as having truly passed the trial.
In this city of the Church, the entire city was "heretic."
Faran Belan felt a wave of dizziness and blurred vision; the unbroken expanse of shattered light screens seemed to surge toward him like an endless black tide, and within that reeling, swaying field of vision, he saw an even more terrifying sight:
The halo had spread not only over the heads of the commoners, but also over those of the priests standing at the edge of the platform, the priests there to administer punishment.
Upon those priests, too, rippling, shattering screens of light emerged!
Then came the knights of the Holy See and the Church soldiers—they looked on in astonishment and tension as they were enveloped by the halo of the divine art, and the next moment, the screens of light upon them shattered as well, black fissures like ink stains spreading all around them.
"O Lord..."