Octave opened his mouth to speak, but waves of gentle holy light suddenly flared to life within his body, devouring him—body and soul alike.
After the sphere of light dissolved into scattered motes and faded away, every trace of Octave's existence had been erased, just like Night Watch captain Lund before him.
"What exactly is this?"
Lucian stood with his hands in the pockets of his long black coat, his expression grave. "The 'Descent of Angels' on them isn't just a temporary 'blessing' that boosts their strength—it's also an irreversible 'poison' in critical moments. This must be a safeguard against them being captured by enemies and interrogated for secrets."
After knocking Octave unconscious with a single punch from his left hand, Lucian hadn't thought much of it. But on the other side, Afris's sparring with Lund had taken a sudden turn—Lund received the power-up from the "Descent of Angels" and instantly gained the upper hand. If Lucian hadn't finished his end quickly and intervened in time, Lund would have already escaped. Even so, they ultimately failed to capture Lund, watching helplessly as he was consumed by the "angel's power."
That was why Lucian hadn't tried to move and revive Octave to bring him back to Alingur for a slow interrogation. Instead, he had seized the brief moment when the "angel's power" was suppressed by the Silver Moon and the mysterious aura of the Netherworld to extract intelligence through Dream Forging. Otherwise, Lucian would have far preferred to ask Atlante the "Curse Eye" or Stanis the "Nightmare King" for help.
Richard shook his head, unable to accept what he'd seen. "How could the Lord's Chosen use such methods against the Lord's servants?"
This was no different from what demons and devils did to their worshippers. And the fact that it was beyond even his ability—as an eighth-tier Cardinal—to undo meant this was clearly not something an ordinary angel could accomplish. That pure, holy light had left him without the slightest doubt about the source of the power.
"Angels are merely the Lord's Chosen, His messengers, but that doesn't mean they necessarily represent the Lord—just as the fallen Pope mentioned by Octave could still use the Rite of Divine Descent. Perhaps this is a trial from the
Richard's blue eyes—the most common shade found in the Holm Kingdom—stared at the ground where Octave had vanished. He murmured to himself, "Is that 'Prophet' truly the 'King of Angels' descended? Can he really carry out religious reform through the Pope and the College of Cardinals?"
"At least from what I saw in Octave's subconscious, he came to believe through certain events that the 'King of Angels' had truly descended." Lucian felt a twinge of doubt about this. When he'd first heard Octave utter the title "Great Prophet" in the dream, he'd assumed the "Lord of
So the "King of Angels," that legendary existence on Heavenly Mountain second only to the God of Truth with recorded instances of descent—while possibly only at the peak of the Legendary realm, one tier below the Lord of Hell—wouldn't simply be deceived by Him so easily.
Perhaps the Great Prophet was merely a puppet the Lord of Hell had put forward. Or perhaps there was another schemer—like Saer de?
Lucian pondered these matters even as he continued speaking. "Moreover, Bishop Richard, your program of religious reform advocates returning the right to interpret the Sacred Scriptures to the devout faithful. So why must you rely on a top-down reform through the Pope and the College of Cardinals? You should rally the faithful, rely on them, and use their ocean-surge of power to smash through every barrier blocking the channels of faith. Perhaps that is the true purpose of the God of Truth's trial—perhaps that is why He did not prevent the Church from splitting into North and South."
Richard turned to look at Lucian, stunned. He had never considered from this angle why both the northern and southern halves of the Church could still receive Divine Arts. After a moment's thought, he shook his head. "The Pope and the College of Cardinals wield the transcendent power granted by the Lord. Without that power, relying solely on the common faithful and the lower- and mid-ranking clergy, reform would be utterly useless—unless the Lord Himself could revoke the Divine Arts from them and bestow power upon every single believer."
"Bishop Richard, your definition of 'faithful' is too narrow. Are the nobles not faithful? Are the Sky Knights, Golden Knights, and Epic Knights not faithful? As long as your reform can satisfy their desire to communicate directly with the Lord, and you can rouse them to action—combined with the few clear-headed members within the College of Cardinals—there's no reason you couldn't begin experimenting with your reform on a smaller scale." Lucian held back from saying too much, offering just a hint. "When that day comes, you will be a saint and a Radiant One without parallel in the history of the Church, and you may even earn the favor of the God of Truth, becoming His true spokesperson in the mortal world."
Lucian himself held no faith in any deity, so he naturally couldn't understand the devotion of a priest like Richard. Out of habit, he tried to tempt him with power, fame, and a position on Heavenly Mountain after death. In his view, without some kind of profit-driven motivation, Richard's resolve to push through reform would be hard to sustain.
Upon hearing Lucian's words, Richard's slightly clouded blue eyes suddenly blazed with light. "Yes—rely on the faithful, rouse the faithful! They are the foundation upon which Heavenly Mountain stands, the true recipients of the Lord's grace!"
Lucian wiped away a bead of cold sweat. His own half-baked approach, cluttered with too many ulterior motives, was nothing compared to whatever the final shape of Richard's religious reform program and roadmap would end up being.
Without further delay—fearing that the falls of Octave and Lund might alert the "Great Prophet"—Lucian had Richard fully activate the Divine Arts array, and then he and Afris departed from the Church of Redemption.
Afris walked beside Lucian in inexplicable grief, its translucent amber eyes brimming with deep sorrow, muttering ceaselessly: "My spoils... my spoils..."
Lund had been consumed by holy light, leaving nothing behind. The vast majority of Octave's valuables had been destroyed under Lucian's Elemental Order. In the end, Afris hadn't recovered a single piece of treasure.
Lucian laughed and patted it. "I'll keep the 'Ultimate Destruction Orb' scroll for myself. Whatever's left of Octave's belongings is yours."
Afris's ears perked up instantly. It spun around, leaped to Lucian's side, and stuck out its tongue to enthusiastically lick his hand. "Boss, extend my contract for another hundred years!"
Where else could you find a partner like this—flush with wealth, constantly winning awards for published papers, and so generous?
Afris seriously wanted to lock Lucian in its home and have him grind out papers every single day.