Chapter 293: Abnormal Changes in the Holy Land (II)
"The path to the Holy War Site has been opened," Cardinal Parolin announced again.
"Through the power of the formation, all of you will arrive at the same location. Proceed now."
Gideon frowned slightly.
"The same location? Does that mean the Holy War Site has multiple regions?"
But the cardinal offered no explanation.
Soon, under the guidance of several Holy Family members, the group began advancing toward the passage.
A sharp tearing sound suddenly split the air.
In the next instant, the ground shook violently, and a massive shockwave blasted outward, knocking many clergy off their feet.
Most assumed it was the formation's effect—but a few, including Gideon, turned their gaze toward the void gateway.
As the dust cleared, a cross-shaped greatsword stood embedded in the ground, its blade burning with flames as dark as night.
"What is that?!"
"Who's there?!"
The crowd reacted instantly.
One cleric stepped forward to investigate—but in the next moment, fine cracks spread across his skin.
Drip… drip…
Before everyone's horrified eyes, his body exploded into chunks of flesh.
"…It's her." Gideon narrowed his eyes.
A slender figure now stood beside the black-flamed sword.
Pale skin. Crimson eyes. Four wings like an angel's.
Compared to the Memorial Day incident, Xila's form had changed yet again.
"An… angel?!"
"Why would an angel kill someone? Did he commit some sin?"
The crowd erupted into confusion.
"A bunch of fools," Parolin said coldly.
The creature radiated overwhelming evil—there was no way it was an angel.
"You… are from the Wings of Vengeance." His expression darkened. "To dare invade the Holy Land—you've got some nerve."
Xila said nothing. She simply drew her blade and swung.
A Holy Order member immediately stepped forward to shield the cardinal, forced back two steps.
Moments later, a slash over ten meters long carved through the space behind them, and a nearby hill collapsed.
"Purify her," Parolin ordered.
More than a dozen elite clergy activated the formation, unleashing a torrent of holy light toward her.
But Xila didn't move.
She reversed her grip, and black flames erupted.
Behind her, a colossal figure materialized—six wings spreading wide, blotting out the sun.
Every cleric who looked upon it saw black wings reflected in their pupils.
"A fallen angel?!" Parolin exclaimed. "How could you summon such a thing in the Holy Land?!"
But he quickly realized—this wasn't a true entity, only a projection of immense spiritual power.
Even so, it was far beyond what they could handle.
With a piercing shriek, the fallen angel spread its arms, releasing a ring of energy that swept outward, corrupting everything it touched.
Clergy were instantly tainted.
The attack was sudden and merciless. In mere moments, the Church's forces were thrown into chaos.
And it wasn't over.
Boom—boom—
Stone coffins rained down from the sky, crashing into the ground.
Yellow-brown liquid seeped from their cracks, filling the air with white vapor.
"…Plague!"
The coffins burst open. Rotting corpses crawled out, covered in infectious sludge, charging into the crowd.
Screams erupted everywhere.
Skin rotted. Bodies convulsed. Minds collapsed.
Clergy fell one after another.
Still, some fought back.
Calvis raised his cross—every corpse charging him froze, then turned on each other in a frenzy.
Elsewhere, Rolsi helped a fallen cleric to his feet, purifying the corruption with holy power.
"Are you alright?" she asked gently.
"I—I'm fine. Thank you…" the man stammered.
She smiled softly. "Can you still fight? We need your strength until reinforcements arrive."
"No problem!" He gripped his cross. "You're of noble status—you should retreat to safety first."
"No," Rolsi shook her head. "I'm no different from you. Protecting the Holy Land is my duty as well."
"Rolsi…" His eyes reddened.
Not far from the passage, Olivia stood with a stern expression, directing her team to erect three layers of isolation barriers.
Their team had been at the rear, so they reacted fastest when the attack began. Combined with their constant training for unexpected crises, she quickly organized a rescue effort.
Meanwhile, in another area, Luen crouched behind a slope, repeatedly slapping his own face.
"Wake up! This is a dream!"
Vera grabbed his hand, stopping him. "This is reality. The Holy Land is under attack."
"That's impossible! Attacking the Holy Land? That only happens in dreams!"
Vera sighed. "I have to admit… your instincts for 'unexpected dangers' are frighteningly sharp."
Earlier, at Luen's insistence, she had scattered several holy artifacts around them.
In any other place, she wouldn't have questioned it.
But this was the Holy Land.
What kind of organization would be insane enough to attack its very core?
And yet—it had happened.
And those very precautions had saved them.
At the same time, the archbishops of the Holy Order began their counterattack.
Blinding holy light surged forth, their eyes glowing white as immense power erupted across the battlefield.
Explosions echoed continuously, tearing through the surrounding land.
Clergy near the passage were forced to retreat further and further away.
All—except one.
Inside the olive grove, ten layers of isolation arrays stood neatly arranged, blocking the violent shockwaves.
Even the spreading corruption and plague were halted at the boundary.
Nearby, on a small slope, three olive trees had been knocked down in the clash.
Their surfaces still radiated pure, sacred energy.
And Gideon was crouched there—
Calmly cutting the branches and stuffing them into his bag.
"You trees have lived for so long… maybe you've developed some awareness?" he muttered.
"Just to be clear, the one who knocked you down was someone named Xila… that person over there."
He pointed casually.
"If there's any curse or misfortune, don't come looking for me. By the way, my name is Luen."
Despite his words, his hands moved swiftly.
In just a few minutes, his bag was packed full—far exceeding what the Sacred Canon required.
At the same time, he realized just how powerful these materials were.
The energy within them was incredibly pure—and vast.
A single intact branch rivaled a hundred-year holy artifact.
If used for exorcism, any evil spirit would likely be purified before it could even approach.
Just as Gideon considered grabbing a few more branches—
Another upheaval occurred.
To the south of the golden-domed temple, atop Mount Zion—the highest point of the old city.
The mountain shook. The earth split apart.
A crimson beam shot into the sky.
For the first time, Xila's expression turned serious.
Only one Holy Order member still stood before her—the rest had fallen.
Even he was drenched in blood, barely able to remain upright.
"The Spear of Longinus," Xila said at last. "I didn't expect you to restore it."
This was the legendary spear that pierced the Son's side—stained with holy blood.
One of the Church's most sacred relics.
"Traitors to humanity," Parolin said coldly. "Now that you know its name, kneel and accept judgment."
His answer was another slash.
Boom!
The last standing cleric collapsed.
The attack reached Parolin—
But he stood calmly, unmoving.
The slash vanished before it could touch him.
A terrifying force descended upon the battlefield.
Then—
A spear flew in from afar.
Its wooden shaft looked worn. Its iron tip unremarkable—save for a faint dark-red stain.
Yet wherever it passed—
All evil was instantly purified.
Even the plague residue on the ground was erased.
Xila raised her sword to block—
But her arm shattered piece by piece.
Frowning, she summoned the fallen angel projection again, barely managing to halt the spear midair.
At that moment, four figures descended from the mountain.
"As expected of a legendary relic," Beelzebub said calmly. "Even the plague essence within these corpses has been erased. I can no longer reanimate them."
Mashal glanced at Xila. "We need to leave."
"You're not going anywhere," Parolin said.
"The Holy Spear will purge all evil in its path. Surrender now, and I may spare your lives."
Abraham adjusted his glasses. "Endless torment? No thanks."
"I'd rather punch that old man," Abaddon said, rolling up his sleeves.
Parolin smiled faintly. "Your resistance is meaningless."
"That projection is powerful—but not the real thing. It won't last long."
Abaddon frowned. "He… might have a point."
"Idiot! He's baiting you!" Mashal snapped.
Xila raised a hand, stopping them. "It's time to go."
She stepped toward Parolin.
The cardinal narrowed his eyes and abandoned any thought of capturing them alive.
Holy power surged— the spear flared crimson once more, unleashing an even greater force.
But the members of the Wings of Vengeance had already reached the passage.
"Old man, thanks," Mashal grinned. "Without you, we couldn't have entered that place."
Parolin's expression darkened. "Despicable heretics—you dare!"
He unleashed the full power of the spear.
The fallen angel projection shattered instantly.
A crimson streak shot toward the passage—
But they had already stepped into the void.
Just as the spear was about to destroy the gateway, Parolin forcibly redirected it.
It slammed into the olive grove instead.
Crash—
The sound of shattering echoed.
The spear pierced the ground—
Right between Gideon's feet.
A drop of cold sweat slid down his forehead.
"…Hey, hey… I only took a little extra. No need to go this far."
He slowly set down the bundle of branches on his shoulder.
That single strike had shattered all of his layered defensive arrays—each made from forty-year-grade materials.
The sheer power was terrifying.
As Gideon considered slipping away—
The spear suddenly rose again.
In the blink of an eye, it flew to the summit of Mount Zion—
Then plunged into the mountain once more.
At the same time, a large number of clergy rushed toward the scene.
At the front were two cardinals—one stout, the other wearing thin-framed glasses.
When they learned that heretics had invaded the Holy Land, everyone was shocked.
"Their group has already fled into the Holy War Site. We need to figure out how to handle this," Parolin said, his face dark.
The incident had occurred during a gathering he was presiding over. While it wouldn't cost him his position, some political concessions were inevitable.
"The Holy War Site suppresses supernatural power. Once inside, those people are as good as dead. Right now, we should concentrate our manpower on finding that item," the stout cardinal said.
The three spoke closely, clearly belonging to the same faction within the Church.
"We still need that item," the bespectacled cardinal added, "but we can't let them off either."
"This invasion is a direct provocation against the Church. If we don't respond seriously, what will other organizations think?"
"And besides… we can use the blood of these heretics to silence those old men from the David and Isaac families."
Parolin nodded. "Well said."
"Pass down the order. Add a new objective—anyone who purifies these heretics will be granted one opportunity for consecration."
A nearby cleric immediately departed to carry out the command.
Just as Parolin was about to assess the casualties, the void rift beside them suddenly began to contract inward.
"Not good! They're trying to destroy the passage!"
Without hesitation, he ordered all participants to move.
"With the formation disrupted, our people may be scattered once they enter," the stout cardinal said, clearly worried.
"And not just that," the bespectacled one added. "Those heretics have tampered with something. Entering recklessly could get people swallowed by the void."
Parolin's gaze turned cold.
"We don't have the luxury of hesitation. Even if this entire group… is lost, they still have to go in."
"Oh? Calvis is among them too. He's one of your—" the stout cardinal said, slightly surprised.
"As a member of the Saul family, he should be prepared for this," Parolin replied flatly.
The two exchanged glances and said no more.
Meanwhile, the participants gathered before the rift.
They looked at one another, hesitation evident in their eyes.
Seeing this, Calvis stepped forward without a word—and, under everyone's gaze, leapt into the fissure.
Rolsi followed immediately, even pulling Haggai along with her.
Encouraged by the two, several more teams jumped in one after another.
Gideon remained in the crowd, quietly observing.
At that moment, Caroline and Bettice made their way over.
"Should we wait until the end?" Bettice asked. "We can observe a bit longer."
Gideon shook his head. "There's no time."
From his perspective, the rift was already extremely unstable. Every person passing through increased the risk of collapse.
If it happened to give way when it was their turn, there would be no survivors.
Better to act now.
With that thought, Gideon stepped forward.
Many eyes turned toward him—some even lit up with expectation.
Under Cardinal Parolin's approving gaze, Gideon stepped into the rift.
After he passed through, several more teams gathered their courage and followed. But before they could all enter, the rift—woven from spiritual threads—suddenly snapped shut.
A few severed bodies fell from midair.
Beyond that, nothing remained.
Moments later, Gideon opened his eyes.
Everything was silent.
Only a dim, ashen moon hung in the distant sky.
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