Aire's entire body was wreathed in sacred light, having already transformed into a blazing sphere of radiance that plunged into the seventh layer of the Heavenly Mountain, merging into that infinite luminescence.
Natasha kept shaking her head, at a complete loss, as though she had regressed to the state of the little girl she'd been when her mother passed away. Years of faith were teetering on the verge of collapse before this scene, and the results of Lucian's years of quiet, gradual influence were nothing compared to the shock and despair of this single moment.
Facts were the most devastating weapon of critique!
Lucian, who already had his suspicions, barely suppressed the frantic screaming in his head. Noticing Natasha's expression, a strange thought inexplicably rose in his mind: should he send a grand gift to Francis, thanking him for his outstanding contribution to Lucian's happy life? Of course, on the premise that he and Natasha could actually escape with their lives.
At that moment, though Lucian couldn't see his own face, he could fully imagine how spectacular it must look—probably filled with every conceivable emotion. Shock, joy, bewilderment, panic, fear, and a host of other indescribable feelings surged through his heart like a tsunami.
Watching Aire's fusion with the God of Truth, the Emblem of Truth Lucian was wearing suddenly trembled faintly, the source of the Divine Arts power within it yielding to the God of Truth without the slightest resistance. Only now did Lucian understand why Francis had once dared to boldly accept the Seed of Spirituality.
*Wait—if the main consciousness of that mysterious Netherworld being is still inside Aire, will the God of Truth suffer indigestion? Will its authority be stolen? Will it suddenly explode and destroy the world?* A thought flashed through Lucian's mind, and he immediately stared at the Heavenly Mountain with his mouth half open, unable to close it for a long time. Did Francis actually know that Aire had been possessed by the mysterious being from the Netherworld? Messing around like this could cost lives!
The thought had barely surfaced when the infinite, impenetrable light of the seventh layer surged outward, as if confirming Lucian's speculation. His expression involuntarily twisted into a bitter smile, and he edged a bit closer to Natasha. Being blown up by the self-destructing God of Truth could probably be considered a kind of "glory." Future magical history would no doubt add such a record: *"This was the only mage who had ever slain a god, though he too perished in the process."*
*Whoosh.* A soft gust of wind arose, and from within the radiance a fragment—dimmed to the absolute extreme in shades of black, white, and gray—was expelled. The frozen monotony of its existence appeared utterly shattered as it fled in terror toward the distance. Behind it, the Heavenly Mountain projection grew increasingly ethereal, nearing disappearance.
"What a pity—the fusion failed. Otherwise, I could have tried the Divine Descent Art!" Francis watched the scene with that same manic fervor, seemingly only mildly disappointed by the outcome.
*Try the Divine Descent Art? With your strength, your body and soul would probably disintegrate on the spot.* Lucian muttered inwardly, his mood growing ever graver. Francis truly did know about the main consciousness of the mysterious Netherworld being hidden within Aire—he was even more enigmatic than Lucian had imagined. Could his own near-mutual-destruction measures have any meaningful effect before the Heavenly Mountain projection?
Natasha pointed at Francis and shouted harshly, "No matter how you dress it up, you cannot conceal the essence of blasphemy! That very statement of yours is blasphemy!"
Francis unhurriedly traced a cross on his chest—short vertically, long horizontally. "My devotion to the Lord is no less than yours. It's simply that our views of the Lord, whether in theological or colloquial terms, differ greatly. But this cannot serve as evidence that I am a heretic. We have merely gained an entirely new understanding of the Lord's existence and form through the guidance of a great prophet."
"A great prophet…" Lucian repeated the words with puzzlement. It sounded like the leader of this heretical organization lurking within the Northern Church—possibly some saint of the Northern Church?
As for the debate between Francis and Natasha, Lucian was happy to let it continue. Delaying time was very helpful for his own spiritual power recovery. Even if he could only use magic below the high-tier level, with his assistance, the severely wounded Natasha could still put up a fight against the eighth-tier Francis. The one he actually needed to worry about was the demigod lich that had slipped away during the earlier chaos.
Suddenly, the fleeing black-white-gray fragment stopped in midair. A golden skull materialized before it. Kongus had teleported far closer than anyone had anticipated—he had arrived ahead of schedule!
The black-white-gray fragment trembled faintly, as if communicating with the demigod lich. In barely one or two seconds, Kongus burst into hearty laughter. His golden jawbone yawned open and swallowed the fragment whole.
Two needle-like points of red light danced wildly like flames in a gale, gradually shifting to an ashen gray. Space around him twisted, his aura climbing at a furious rate. In a mere instant, the demigod lich seemed to shatter the shackles that had bound him for centuries, advancing a full level. And it appeared that he was the one controlling the mysterious Netherworld being—not the other way around.
The flickering ashen flames turned upon Lucian, Natasha, Francis, and the nearly vanished Heavenly Mountain projection, and a sinister, frigid voice spoke:
"You will all die."
…………
Inside the magic tower across the sea, the Storm Master stared at the intelligence report before him, lightning crackling in his eyes as hurricanes surged around him, sweeping up everything in the room—except for the two high-backed armchairs in which Hathaway and Douglas remained seated.
"Kongus…" Fernando growled in a low voice, then abruptly stood and turned to Douglas. "Have Begna coordinate with me."
Begna was the name of the Tower's prophet, and he too had entered this extradimensional space.
A grave expression appeared on Douglas's kindly face. "Very well. You and Hathaway rush to save Lucian. I'll keep watch on Vincent and not let him play any tricks."
Fernando had always been a man of impatience. With Douglas's approval secured, he flew straight toward the location where the Extradimensional Gate had been set up, Hathaway following behind in silence.
When they reached the hall housing the Extradimensional Gate, the prophet Begna, already notified by Douglas, was waiting there, his gray pointed hat a miniature of the Astronomical Tower.
Nodding to the prophet, Fernando was the first to step through the Extradimensional Gate, returning to Allinor.