Octave flew backward like a kite with its string cut, his red cardinal's robes torn to shreds, blood spraying from his mouth like mist, eyes shut tight as he lost consciousness.
Suddenly, his expression contorted. From within his body, waves of sacred light erupted, weaving into four pairs of pristine white wings behind his back.
His eyes slowly opened. His pale blue irises had become icy and colorless, carrying the condescending majesty of one who looked down from on high as he gazed at Lucian with cold indifference.
"Angel Descent?"
Lucian's surprised voice reached Octave's ears. Unable to resist a touch of smug pride, he said: "We are the righteous favored by the Lord, disciples who truly carry His will. Naturally, an angel descends to grant us its power for salvation. You, the Fallen Morning Star, will eventually be purified by us!"
He spoke rapidly in the Celestial tongue recorded in the Holy Scripture.
He might speak bravely, but Octave was keenly aware that with an angel possessing his body, his mind was sharp and extraordinarily lucid. He understood that this power couldn't last, and if they continued fighting, the commotion would easily draw the attention of the Cathedral of Radiance, the Holme Royal Arcane Tower, and the Nexes Palace. So he flapped the wings behind him. Countless ethereal, dreamlike motes of light drifted out, converging into a majestic, grand sacred radiance that surged toward Lucian.
Watching Lucian transform into a Heavenly Knight and struggle to parry left and right—even unleashing the strange power in his left hand, he couldn't break through this "Sacred Radiance" in the short term—Octave let out a contemptuous snort. Without lingering, he flickered to Lund's side, scooped him up—Lund had been struck by the crystal dragon's breath and fallen into a state of spiritual paralysis—braced the four pairs of wings against the dragon's claw attack, forcibly broke free of the surrounding bonds, and escaped from the "Cathedral of Redemption."
The wings folded in. The radiance faded. Octave performed his Divine Arts, carrying Lund as they merged into the darkness, departing without a sound. He knew full well that Lucian and his "Familiar" wouldn't dare pursue them. If they revealed themselves, they'd certainly be identified by Saer de,
After changing their path multiple times and having Octave use various Divine Arts to cover their tracks, they waited for Lund to recover. Then they had him use his special bloodline-erasing ability to add another layer of concealment before finally heading toward their destination.
The earlier battle had been stopped in time without alerting the powerful figures in the city. The night was now quiet and deep, bringing a calm to one's heart.
"I never expected to run into Lucian... Evans..." Lund said through gritted teeth, his hatred bone-deep. He regretted that his strength was insufficient to slay that devil—evil and cunning beyond measure—on the spot.
Octave snorted: "He could only succeed through a sneak attack. If they'd been the ones talking to
"Rank-suppression? Could it be the suppression a high-ranking angel exerts over Divine Arts? Was Lucian truly an Archangel in his past life—the Fallen Morning Star? The Left Wing of God?" Lund blurted in astonishment. Although he and many Night Watch members often called Lucian a fallen angel or the Fallen Morning Star, they'd never truly believed it, always thinking it was just the Pope's explanation to diminish his influence.
Octave had been tormented terribly by that left hand earlier. Still shaken, he didn't argue with Lund but fell silent, beginning to wonder if it might actually be true.
In an uneasy quiet, the two traveled on for a while before Octave finally spoke in a low voice: "Wait—we'll ask the Great Prophet. He is the 'King of Angels' descended, carrying the Lord's will to destroy the renegade Pope. He should know Lucian's secret. That way, when we deal with him in the future, we'll be better prepared."
Lund nodded slightly: "And we'll also have to beg the Great Prophet's forgiveness. We failed to win over Richard, and we couldn't kill him to frame the mages. Oh, by the way, Your Eminence—why has your speech become so verbose? You said a lot of unnecessary things that didn't need to be said."
He was referring to how Octave, when mentioning the Great Prophet, only needed to say he was the "King of Angels" descended and should know Lucian's secret—there was no need to insert that extra bit about the renegade Pope, as if Lund didn't know. But he was also a core member of this secret organization; what wouldn't he know?
Octave touched his face—under the Healing Arts, the wound was no longer visible—but the piercing pain still lingered clearly in his mind, making his head throb and his thoughts sluggish. He said bitterly: "The wound just now was to my head. Perhaps my speech and bodily functions are somewhat out of my control."
Lund nodded in understanding and said nothing more, following Octave as they turned into a dilapidated little chapel.
Yet the chapel was unexpectedly holy and radiant, nearly comparable to the Great Hall of Radiance in the holy city of Rance. The contrast between inside and outside was so stark it was almost shocking.
But Octave and Lund walked through without so much as a sideways glance, as if returning to their own home, heading familiarly through the prayer hall toward the confessional.
"You're back?" A stern, sharp-featured young man approached them head-on. He looked to be only about thirty, yet wore the distinctive red robes of a cardinal.
Octave dipped his head slightly: "Arthur, the mission failed."
He recognized this man as the most trusted cardinal of the Great Prophet, and also the most gifted priest the Holme diocese had produced in the past fifty years—becoming a cardinal before the age of thirty-five, now already at the ninth rank. He was one of the most favored candidates to become a Holy Spirit Priest, though unfortunately, due to his overly radical views, he'd always been kept at the periphery of the Holme diocese's power structure.
Arthur, bearing a common Holme surname, narrowed his eyes in surprise: "Failed? You had three ninth-rank scrolls and still couldn't take down Richard?"
"We were on the verge of success when we encountered Lucian Evans. He must have come to persuade Richard." For reasons Octave couldn't explain, he didn't mention the strangeness of Lucian's left hand, considering it a secret between himself and Lund—one that only the Great Prophet should be told. "He ambushed us, and we were caught off guard and forced onto the defensive. Besides, his Familiar is a great dragon, so we had no choice but to rely on the Angel Descent ability to escape."
Arthur's brown irises seemed to flicker with an unusual color for just an instant. After a moment of thought, he said: "This is an opportunity. For now, don't let word of Lucian Evans's contact with Richard get out. It might prove beneficial to our future plans. Moreover, without evidence, given Richard's prestige among the lower and mid-ranking clergy, spreading it wouldn't produce any good results."
Lund said steadily: "Arthur, I understand what you mean, but the one who makes the final decision on this matter can only be the Great Prophet."