Chapter 976 - 410: The Belated Final Battle (Part 2)

Chapter 976: Chapter 410: The Belated Final Battle (Part 2)

This time it wasn’t a scream, but a human voice.

"Only pain and death can give birth to the flower of devotion that transcends all, and only this faith that surpasses life, death, and the self can break the barrier between man and God."

Han’er’s relaxed body tightened again, and as he slowly turned around, he saw a middle-aged man crouching in front of the dead believer.

After finishing a simple prayer, the middle-aged man stood up slowly and looked at Han’er.

His eyes were wise and profound, even strangers who saw his eyes could feel that he was a scholar with vast knowledge.

Han’er remembered him; the scholar with deep eyes in front of him was the true initiator of this divine miracle-guidance ritual, the president of the Mathematics Association, Thompson.

He had greeted the other guy under Wick’s lead.

Thompson said, "Archbishop Han’er, you should be in your church, guiding the believers in devout prayer, shouldn’t you? Why are you here?"

Han’er’s mouth slightly twitched; he wanted to fabricate a lie to bluff his way out, but under Thompson’s seemingly all-seeing gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

His subconscious was telling him that lying to Thompson was just an insult to his own intelligence.

He quickly adjusted his expression and asked back: "President Thompson, why do you think I am here?"

Thompson stood up and looked up at the descending red moon.

"I guess, you want to go to Duke Wick’s side and sabotage this miracle."

Han’er laughed and said, "As expected of a great scholar, you guessed correctly."

Thompson looked at the Light of Steadfastness behind Han’er, having never seen the divine miracle of the Night of Falling Moon, he did not recognize the Light of Steadfastness.

He asked: "What do you plan to use to stop Duke Wick, with that hollow wooden hammer behind you?"

Friends who often fight with cold weapons know that a warhammer is actually a small weapon.

The density of solid metal is extremely high, and generally, even the most robust knight can only wield a warhammer about the size of an egg.

A stage play’s warhammer, oversized like a giant goblet, only exists in the story.

The long-handled warhammer behind Han’er, with a handle over a meter long and the head larger than a small wooden barrel, if it were truly metal, would be heavier than three adults.

Such a huge warhammer, Han’er fixed it on his back with a simple strip of leather, Thompson’s professional knowledge told him that thing was definitely a fake.

Using a hollow wooden hammer to attack Wick, could Han’er be mad?

Of course, Han’er wouldn’t tell Thompson the truth, he simply said:

"Thompson, sometimes a person’s will can bear greater weight than flesh and blood."

Thompson shook his head slightly, he took out a book from his bosom, and as the book opened, a transparent barrier rose around the ritual node.

He said: "Archbishop Han’er, haven’t you noticed yet? As the True God’s spokesperson on earth, you ought to be more cooperative with our actions than Wick. Your current insanity is divine punishment upon you from God."

Han’er took the Light of Steadfastness from his back, seeing Thompson’s intention to not easily let him leave.

"Thompson, who once most denied God, now has God constantly on his lips. Between you and me, who really is the one trapped in madness?"

Facing Han’er’s sneer, Thompson’s face showed no fluctuation, he said:

"That was because I was too ignorant then, only believed in the things I saw and recognized."

"When I was mature enough and understood this world well enough, I discovered how wrong I had been. But you, Archbishop Han’er, you haven’t realized it yet."

The book in Thompson’s hand flipped by itself, rapidly paging through.

"Come on, Han’er, when you see the sights I’ve seen, knowing the greatness of God, you’ll still have time to turn back!"

Before finishing his words, Thompson’s body became transparent, disappearing where he stood.

Han’er clutched the warhammer tightly, cautiously guarding against Thompson’s attack.

He waited for Thompson’s attack, but instead, he sensed the prayer of believers in his ear growing louder and louder.

From a buzzing of mosquitoes to the gradually noisy clamor, the sound continuing to grow louder, becoming deafening.

In the gigantic prayer sound, he felt his body constantly shrinking, everything around him turning incomprehensible.

He looked overhead and found that above the sky, an eye slowly appeared, an eye formed from flames.

Under the gaze of the eye, he felt so small, his legs began to tremble, couldn’t help but want to kneel to the eye overhead.

At the central point of the ritual node, Han’er’s eyes were muddled, looking up at the sky, with his body constantly quivering as if he saw something unfathomable.

Two meters behind him, Thompson holding the scripture of the Soul Light Sect in one hand, a dagger in the other, walked toward Han’er.

He had anticipated Han’er’s status, regardless who it is, they would abandon all resistance and fall into inexplicable fear when witnessing the existence of God firsthand, and he wasn’t an exception then.

He approached within a meter of Han’er, raising the dagger, aiming for Han’er’s throat.

"Those who betray Divine Grace, their souls shall dwell forever in darkness."

Just as the dagger was about to strike, Thompson was surprised to find that Han’er’s muddled look unexpectedly cleared up.

"You?!"

"You don’t think a mere eye can frighten me, do you?" Han’er’s eyes revealed ridicule as he swung the Light of Steadfastness toward Thompson.

Thompson’s illusion technique was undeniably impressive; he had been hit without even noticing.

If it were the former him, he would likely be unable to break free from Thompson’s illusion technique, standing dumbstruck until his throat was slit.