The sacred light was vast, the holy hymns soared, angels swarmed in countless hosts, divine and ethereal — Lucian knew he would never forget this sight, if he survived.
His first instinctive thought was: *Sorry, I think I knocked on the wrong door. The delivery is for next door.*
All manner of absurd and bizarre ideas flashed through his mind, but none of them slowed him down. He spun around instantly, shouting through the mental link: "Run!"
At the same time, his moonlight power erupted as he tried to slam shut the great door carved with white patterns.
Then, from within that seven-layered, mountainous world of sacred light, a solemn and majestic voice rang out:
"Demons have invaded!"
From the sixth layer, an angel with six pairs of brilliant white wings spread behind its back flew forth. Its golden eyes, tinged with a faint azure, gazed at Lucian and Rhein from afar. It raised a small golden horn to its lips.
*Wuuuu!*
The resounding, solemn horn call echoed throughout the entirety of Heavenly Mountain. Angel after angel — those who had been playing instruments and praising the true God — snapped to alertness, seized their weapons, and poured out in an overwhelming tide.
*Wuuuu!*
The moment Lucian heard that ethereal yet fiercely martial horn, his heart sank. *This is bad!*
This was a scene described in the Church's *Holy Scripture* — the horn of judgment, the horn of salvation. What followed it was the final verdict, the true "Light of Heaven"!
*Wuuuu!*
With that sacred horn call, the seven layers of Heavenly Mountain blazed with radiant, crystalline light that surged outward at tremendous speed, as if trying to transform the entire world into a boundless ocean of holy radiance — a sanctified paradise!
Light moved impossibly fast. Before Lucian or Rhein could complete a precise teleport or slip into the Night Shroud, they were engulfed by the holy tide.
The sacred light had no substance, yet Lucian felt as though he'd plunged into the deep sea without casting a single spell — as though he might drown at any moment in that luminous flood, dense as flowing water.
The Epic Knight transformation was forcibly dispelled. Arcane Magic effect after arcane magic effect on Lucian's body was stripped away. His spiritual power was suppressed, and his lungs seemed to fill with "seawater," impossibly heavy. Every breath was a titanic struggle as "sacred light" poured in and out through his nose, his mouth, his pores.
Fortunately, this "Light of Heaven" only dispelled magical effects and suppressed spiritual power — it didn't completely strip Lucian of his spellcasting ability or his physical strength. Stumbling forward, he forced open the black door, grabbed Rhein, and bolted through.
Rhein fared far worse. Streaks of black energy rose from his body and evaporated on contact. If not for the faint layer of moonlight still protecting his skin, he would likely have dissipated into nothing, just like any ordinary vampire prince caught in the "Light of Heaven." Even so, he had essentially lost all combat capability. His body flickered unstably — sometimes human, sometimes transparent, sometimes a bat!
Much like the Ring of Congers on Lucian's left hand, which had now completely lost its luster and would be unable to function for some time.
Spell after spell — acceleration, flight, buffered by the Grand Arcanist's Robe's ability to cushion magic effects — erupted in rapid succession. Lucian dragged Rhein along, reducing himself to a blurred streak as he shot across the grey hall at breakneck speed, wrenching open black door after black door without sparing a thought for whatever bizarre worlds lay beyond them. No matter how strange or terrifying those worlds might be, could they possibly compare to Heavenly Mountain?
The horn call ceased. The golden-eyed angel with its faint azure hue turned to the five companions in the sixth layer: "Pursue the demons!"
Judging by the descriptions in *Holy Scripture*, this was a Son of Light, an Angel of Judgment, an Angel of Justice — the commander of all angels below the "King of Angels" himself, a being approaching the peak of Legendary power. And within the sphere of influence of Heavenly Mountain, his strength would be boosted by half a rank.
Four of the five Seraphim rose to their feet, tracing crosses over their chests. "Truth alone endures. Evil shall be purged!"
According to the Church's published doctrine, each Seraph was a third-rank Legendary, with three of them nearing the peak.
The holy wings behind those four Seraphim beat once, and they flickered from Heavenly Mountain directly into the grey hall. Instantly, that ocean of light seemed to greet its most beloved, transforming into countless motes that swirled around them — each mote a tiny angel, singing sacred hymns of praise.
"The demons carry the 'Light of Heaven' within their bodies. They cannot escape. It is simply a matter of who catches them first. Alvin, which direction are you pursuing?" asked a Seraph whose eyes burned like living flame and who carried a crimson cross-hilted sword, communicating through spiritual waves.
This was Clement, the Angel of Fire — also known as the Flame of God, the Purifying Angel, a peak Legendary existence.
A Seraph whose eyes seemed to contain the starry night pointed toward one of the black doors. "I'll take this one."
This was Alvin, known as the "Eye of God," the "Angel of Revelation," and the "Angel of Wind" — also nearing the peak of Legendary power.
"Why?" Clement asked reflexively. They seemed thoroughly familiar with the patterns of the World of Doors and the grey hall; there was no chance Lucian and Rhein could outrun them.
Alvin, handsome and refined, smiled gently. "A hunch."
With that, his Seraph wings shimmered slightly, and he appeared before the black door. He waited several seconds before opening it.
Clement said nothing more. Alvin was the "Eye of God," the "Angel of Revelation," the angel closest to the River of Fate of the Lord — an instinctive hunch was the most persuasive reason there was. The rest of them departed in pursuit along other routes.
The ocean of sacred light receded. The grey hall returned to silence, once again a place of calm.
……
Breathing grew harder and harder. The air, the blood, the organs — everywhere seemed saturated with light that flowed like water, giving Lucian the experience of a drowning man. An experience he never wanted to relive.
Vicente's medical case, high-grade healing spells, air filtration bubbles — he cast them all as though spiritual power were limitless, yet he felt only the faintest trickle of the contamination being purged. How long it would take to fully shake off this state, he had no idea. And this was the dangerous World of Doors — at any moment, some bizarre monster, a mighty Seraph, or even the terrifying Pontiff himself might come charging through.
Time was the most precious thing he had, and right now, Lucian had none to spare.
Amid the continuous casting, Lucian also noticed that the "Light of Heaven" was corroding his spiritual power, suppressing it, making it grind and stutter.
"A class-of-God-level controlling Divine Art, powered by the strength of Heavenly Mountain. As expected," Lucian muttered, glancing at Rhein beside him. Rhein had already reverted to bat form, unconscious. All of his Legendary-grade artifacts had proven useless, and he had never given Lucian any instructions on how to operate them.