The indescribable, eerie substance writhed there, sothing even Amber, who frequently ventured from the real world into the shadow realm, and Wright, who had studied every Holy Light classic, had never heard of. It was a mixture of twisted flesh without any recognizable outline of bone, muscle, or skin, interspersed with beautiful, crystal-like fragnts. This mixture was soaking in a shimring "puddle," but upon closer inspection, the shimring "puddle" was rely pure light. Its edges diffused into the surroundings, connecting with the motes of luminescence floating in the air. As a mber of the Orthodox Clergy, Wright could be certain that the substance was of extrely pure Holy Light.
Holiness and blasphemy, beauty and horror, utterly contradictory elents converged upon this rapidly regenerating mixture, sending shivers down Amber’s spine.
A White Knight exclaid, "He’s regenerating!"
No one could comprehend the principles behind this mixture, nor how Fran Belon had assud such a guise—of course, before the courageous White Knights had righteously bombarded the room with explosive grenades, this temporary bishop might not have been in this form—but everyone knew one thing: this regenerating entity was no good-natured being!
Wright imdiately raised his warhamr and commanded loudly, "Prepare the hand cannon—"
The distorted flesh drenched in Holy Light had survived a round of fierce bombardnt, yet its ragged condition made it clear it was not immortal. It could be hard, it could be weakened—and the Transcendents of this world had encountered regenerating monsters before. For them, enemies with robust vitality or regenerative capability were not formidable as long as they could be injured—a wounded foe was rely a matter of more attacks.
In short, so long as a life bar could be drawn out, it’s just a matter of more rounds of assault.
However, just as the White Knights raised their hand cannons to aim, a sudden change occurred.
The mixture of flesh and crystal hastened its writhing, and from the surrounding water-like radiance ca an indescribable roar, as if a thousand beasts were roaring in unison, piercing into the minds of everyone present, Amber included. She widened her eyes at the Holy Light-shrouded amalgam, feeling an inexplicable sanctity in the at-and-crystal mix.
Glorious sacred music resonated, and the entire prayer room was enveloped in light. Holy Light descended from the distant horizon like curtains, layer upon layer surrounding everything from all directions, transforming the place into a grand, magnificent, and suprely beautiful sanctuary. Amber saw countless spirits erge from thin air, worshiping the shadowy figure in the sanctuary’s center, while a low whisper echoed in her ears:
"Worship Him... Believe in Him..." "Trust Him... Obey Him..." "He will protect you, He will guide you..."
The veil around the room thickened, and an unseen wind stirred the curtain-thin drapery. Behind it, innurable eyes shimred and watched with neutral gazes, and countless mouths opened and closed in darkness, emitting mindless, aningless whispers.
Instinctively, Amber took a step forward to embrace the sacred light. Internally, she maintained so odd clarity, aware she was about to cross an unseen boundary. Once through, she’d beco a devout follower of the Holy Light God, yet she felt no resistance. She took one step, then another...
But just as she neared the boundary, a familiar yet infrequently heard voice abruptly echoed in her mind: "...Why trust that thing? Learn to cook with instead..."
All illusions vanished, the Holy Light, drapery, whispers, eyes, and unseen mouths... everything shattered like a dream. Amber found herself still in the ravaged prayer room, feet unmoved, the writhing flesh still soaking in water-like Holy Light, regeneration far from complete.
"Thanks to the Goddess for tily rescue..." Amber quickly (and without much piety) thanked the Goddess of Shadows she worshiped in her heart, then promptly assessed the others’ state: Wright was seemingly frozen, glaring furiously at the nearby flesh, and the other White Knights, muscles tensed, all bore expressions of struggle and resistance.
The White Knights weren’t rely elite soldiers selected from the army; they also possessed steadfast minds and had been baptized by the New Holy Light doctrine—facing the faith’s infiltration by the Holy Light God, even if not imdiately regaining clarity like Amber, they could resist for quite so ti.
Amber quickly contemplated what she might do next, but before she took action, a roar erupted nearby.
Wright broke free from the strange ntal influence by sheer force of will. He raised the chanically Powered Warhamr, light surging upon it, and with a roar, he slamd the warhamr down fiercely—
The partially regenerated twisted flesh shattered into fragnts under the strike, swiftly vaporizing in the searing Holy Light.
Amber heard an illusory shriek echoing in her mind—filled with imnse pain and hatred, a substantial emotion turbulently swirled in the prayer room, felt by everyone present: apart from hatred, there was confusion and regret, as if even as it dispersed, the emotion’s owner couldn’t fathom why their elaborate trap failed, couldn’t understand why these intruders defied convention...
The shriek dissipated after half a second, and the diffused Holy Light in the prayer room sharply waned, the seething energy gradually settling. Fran Belon’s presence completely vanished into the air.
The White Knights vigilantly clutched their warhamrs and raised their hand cannons, maintaining their guard for two more minutes before confirming the enemy had been utterly annihilated.
"...Is it really gone?" Amber patted her chest, nervously watching the large pit in the center of the room. Recalling the earlier experience still left her shaken, afraid that so twisted flesh and crystal might appear out of nowhere again.
"...The spirit is calm, and the noise in the Holy Light has disappeared," Wright carefully sensed the fluctuations of the Holy Light in the space, nodding slightly as he spoke, "It seems that was just a counterattack by Fran Belon in his dying state."
The surrounding White Knights also confird the environnt’s safety through their Tactical Scopes. After ensuring that nothing strange would suddenly jump out to persuade them to convert, Amber finally breathed a sigh of relief, then remarked incredulously, "Was that really Fran Belon just now? How could he be so formidable?"
"Very abnormal..." Wright furrowed his brow tightly, clearly confused as well, "Just now, this place was filled with very pure Holy Light, and the entire room was nearly a semi-sanctuary, but this was completely beyond the control of a middle-ranked—or even high priest. Even if we mobilized the sacred power reserves of the cathedral, it still doesn’t explain Fran Belon’s twisted and mutated appearance..."
"I seed to vaguely see many illusions earlier," Amber scratched her head, "I saw a lot of light and pilgrims, with countless eyes hidden behind the veil. A voice urged to believe in the Holy Light, and that voice seed to erge from my own thoughts..."
"...You were already pulled into that deep realm?!" Wright was suddenly taken aback but quickly realized, "Well, you were standing too close back then...Unbelievable, you actually resisted that force with your will."
"Luckily, the Goddess of Shadows blessed ," Amber drew a circle on her chest, "I’m the Chosen of the Night..."
"Oh," Wright replied casually, then tilted his head slightly to listen—the sounds from the surface were nearing silence, "It seems the situation above is nearly resolved. Prepare to withdraw."
Amber imdiately jumped up: "Hey, why do you react like Gawain! I’m telling you, I truly am the Chosen of the Night! The Goddess even chatted with , you know, she taught ..."
"Creak——"
Amber, who was hopping around, suddenly felt as if she had stepped on sothing. She lowered her head to lift her foot for a look, and her bouncing action abruptly froze.
It was a crystal-like substance emitting a faint light...the crystalline material that had been mixed with Fran Belon’s flesh earlier!
"Oh my gosh!!" The embarrassed half-elf let out a startled cry, "This thing still exists!!"
Wright was also startled and swiftly gripped his warhamr, coming to Amber’s side: "Don’t worry—let see."
Amber almost bounces three ters away, watching as Wright seriously examines the crystal fragnt on the ground, tentatively asking, "What’s going on...this thing won’t suddenly sprout a new Fran Belon, will it?"
"...It seems it won’t move anymore," Wright, after careful examination and sensing with the Holy Light, finally picked up the crystal fragnt cautiously, "This should be the last remnant left by Fran Belon after his death...a strange substance."
Amber seed oddly fixated on the idea of it growing into a person: "Are you sure this thing won’t grow into a person?"
"I’m not sure; this has to be shown to scholars, like Master Kal or Master Pittman," Wright admitted honestly, "But at least for now, the residual Holy Light power inside it is completely calm, and it shouldn’t change in the short term."
"Just ntion Master Kal; forget Pittman," Amber pursed her lips, then cautiously glanced at the crystal fragnt in Wright’s hand, "You hold onto this thing then, maybe Gawain...the Duke might be interested."
Wright shrugged indifferently, carefully placing the crystal fragnt into a portable container before starting to command the other White Knights: "Check around again to see if there are any other similar remnants, collect them all. Also, look for any remaining pieces of clothing. Take them out and tell people that Fran Belon has been purified by the White Knights."
"Yes, Great Shepherd!"
The White Knights imdiately sprang into action. Wright, still frowning, glanced at the devastated prayer room, where the pure and warm Holy Light continued to flow gently between the shattered altar and sacred runes, as if untouched by the earlier blasphemous monster.
"The Holy Light will not be tainted...only human hearts can be tainted..."
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