Chapter 639 — The Last Wall
Blade of Dawn · Page 4 of 4
"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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