Erika's attempt to block was pathetically futile against the enraged strike of a full Cleric. He didn't even make physical contact before a colossal wave of energy impact slammed into him from a distance.
THUMP!
It felt like a giant's hammer had struck his chest. His Qi and blood churned violently, and he was hurled backward uncontrollably. The light from the Marks on his arms flickered and died. Just as he was about to crash embarrassingly against the distant energy barrier, a dark shadow flashed—Wolfgang, having released his deadlock on the situation, shot forward and caught him steadily, though the immense force still forced both men half a step back before they stabilized.
THUMP.
Hong Bo's staff struck the ground again. The sound was not loud, but it carried a soul-freezing authority.
"Silence!" His gaze was like cold lightning, sweeping over the attacking Cleric. "Cease this insolence."
Before the words had fully faded, Hong Bo's figure had phased like a ghost from the high dais to the side of the barely-breathing Loren. He merely raised a hand casually, his arm an insurmountable mountain range, blocking the path between the Cleric and Loren.
He looked at the Cleric, the compassionate smile still on his face, but his words were cold as sharpened steel."Those with insatiable greed shall burn in the God's wrath until their souls are utterly extinguished."
The Cleric's face turned deathly pale, sweat beading on his forehead. He forcibly suppressed his rage and resentment, lowering his head with extreme reluctance, the words squeezed from between his teeth:"...I heed the Grand Cleric's instruction."
He shot a venomous glare at Erika and Wolfgang before retreating sullenly, his greedy eyes turning toward the few other survivors in the field who were still struggling, seemingly on the verge of success.
Only then did Hong Bo slowly turn. He didn't look at Loren, who lay on the ground like a broken doll, but instead paced over to Erika, who was being supported by Wolfgang.
His face wore a near-saintly benevolence as he looked at Erika, his voice so gentle it chilled the bones:
"Kind-hearted child, our Lord watches all from the heavens. Your selflessness, your courage, will not go unseen by the God."
He reached out, made a grasping and pulling motion in the air, and Loren's body, as if pulled by invisible strings, floated up lightly before being "dumped" unceremoniously at Erika's feet with a dull thud.
"Behold," Hong Bo's voice held a seductive, magical quality, as if presenting a supreme delicacy, "this final portion... sustenance. Purified through the God's Grace, initially refined by the de Witt family's excellent bloodline, yet unable to solidify."
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"It is only fitting that you—my newly emerged child, shining with virtue and potential—should be the one to partake. This is the God's reward for your good deed. And it is the power... you have earned."
Erika was stunned by this sudden "reward." He looked down at the unconscious, barely breathing Loren, the blood still staining his lips. His mind went blank.Partake? Sustenance?Did it mean… he was to drain Loren's life force and energy, just like those other Clerics?
"He... he can still be saved!" Erika's head snapped up, as if clutching at a final straw. He looked imploringly at Wolfgang behind him, his voice desperate."Just like... just like you helped me then! Instructor Wolfgang! You can save him, right?!"
Wolfgang's lips were pressed into a tight line. His deep eyes churned with intensely complex emotions—resignation, heaviness, even a trace of well-concealed anguish. But in the end, he remained silent. The arms supporting Erika's shoulders tightened their grip even more, as if issuing a warning, and suppressing something within himself.
Hong Bo seemed satisfied with Wolfgang's reaction. He smiled faintly and gestured for Wolfgang to release Erika.
Wolfgang hesitated for a moment. Under Hong Bo's unwavering gaze, he slowly loosened his grip, but remained tightly at Erika's side, a silent volcano poised to erupt.
Hong Bo leaned down, close to Erika, his tone instructive, mentor-like, his words soft but each one hammering into Erika's heart:
"Child, you must understand a principle. Heaven breeds all things to nurture humanity—this vast energy, all living beings in this world, are the sustenance granted by our Lord's grace. They exist to nourish us, to make us stronger, to better serve our Lord and spread His divine favor."
His words carried a twisted logic, sanctifying plunder.
"And humanity offers nothing to repay Heaven—what can we insignificant individuals possibly offer in return for our Lord's boundless grace? Only by growing stronger, by fulfilling our duties, by transforming all available resources—including those... unfortunates who failed to bear the grace—into power that advances the sacred cause. This is the greatest repayment and reverence for the God's grace."
He straightened up, his gaze benevolent yet icy as he looked at Erika, tossing the final choice to him like a hot potato:
"Therefore, the decision of whether to partake of this 'sustenance' is yours to make. Our Lord is merciful; He never forces."He paused, his tone shifting abruptly to a chilling, regretful note."Of course, you may choose to refuse. In that case, this young man of the de Witt family can only be... considered a loss. I presume the other Clerics, faithful to their duties, would be most willing to help him complete this final... contribution."
As his words fell, the surrounding Clerics, who had been watching intently, seemed to receive a silent command. They began to close in again, slowly, malevolently. Their eyes gleamed with greed and impatience, like starving wolves eyeing a meal, waiting only for Erika's refusal to swarm and devour Loren completely.
Pressure, tangible and suffocating, closed in from all sides.
On one side: Hong Bo's seemingly rational yet icy, cruel "divine logic" and the lure of power.On the other: Loren's weak breathing, Wolfgang's heavy silence, and the encircling gazes of the hungry wolves.
Erika stood at the crossroads of fate, looking down at the dying "comrade" at his feet, feeling the ache in his newly-formed Marks from the earlier impact. For the first time, he felt with such brutal clarity the true price of being a "demon fighting demons."
Erika looked at Loren's pale face at his feet, listened to the greedy pants of the surrounding Clerics, and saw Hong Bo's hypocritical face packaging cruelty as divine reward. A scorching torrent of humiliation, rage, and despair smashed through all his reason and caution.
To hell with their doctrines!To hell with power!
If the price of strength was devouring a comrade's life—If this so-called God's Grace meant watching someone he cared about being treated as "sustenance"...
"BULLSHIT!!"
He threw his head back, eyes bloodshot, veins bulging on his neck, and let out a bestial roar at Hong Bo, his voice cracking under the force of his fury:
"Power... gained by EATING PEOPLE?!"
His arm shot out, pointing first at the encircling Clerics, then at Loren on the ground, each word ripped from his throat like a chunk of bloody flesh:
"It can't SAVE anyone! It can't PROTECT anyone!What the hell is the point of it, then?!"
This raw, profanity-laced, broken scream, a primal howl of defiance, shattered the carefully maintained aura of sanctity Hong Bo had cultivated.
The compassionate and benevolent smile on Hong Bo's face froze and cracked like a cheap mask. A flash of impatience and gloom crossed his eyes, swiftly concealed. His decades of cultivated control prevented an immediate outburst. He merely narrowed his eyes slightly, his tone shifting to one of cold disappointment, as if addressing a disobedient child.
"You... are indeed not yet ready to bear the true 'weight'."
Those words were like a key, instantly unlocking all the accumulated denial and contempt in Erika's heart—
Balthasar's greedy, disdainful scrutiny: "Too weak..."The ubiquitous, mocking whispers in the Priory that saw him as a joke...Wolfgang's seemingly guiding, yet perpetually obscuring "This doesn't matter..."
All these voices exploded in his mind!Despair flooded him like a black tide, but at its very depths, it wasn't surrender that awaited—It was a reckless, self-destructive madness!
"RAAAAAGH—!"
Erika let out an inhuman roar. The dual Marks inside him spun at an unprecedented, frantic rate, draining every last drop of potential! He didn't employ any technique, simply channeling all his rage, resentment, and despair into the most primitive, most direct application of force.
His body shot forward like an arrow from a bow, and he launched a single, furious punch directly at Hong Bo, who stood mere feet away!
The punch was formless, but terrifyingly fast, carrying a suicidal, desperate ferocity! The force of it tore through the air with a sharp crack!
For one fleeting instant, Erika even saw a flicker of genuine surprise in Hong Bo's eyes. A single strand of silver hair at Hong Bo's temple, stirred by the fist wind, actually fluttered!
He had touched him!If only with the air displaced by his fist!
The thought flashed through Erika's mind, bringing a twisted, savage satisfaction.
Yet, it was at the very moment his fist was about to truly make contact with Hong Bo's robes—
HUM.
Hong Bo's golden staff seemed to tap the ground, ever so slightly.
No sound, but an invisible yet ocean-vast field of suppression descended instantly!
Simultaneously, Erika felt the space around him twist. Four figures in white robes phased into existence as if from folded seams in reality! Their movements were perfectly synchronized, carrying a ritualistic, inquisitorial precision—cold, ruthless, and brutally efficient!
One hand, like an iron vise, locked onto the joint of his punching arm from behind. Another hand seized his other arm. At the same time, a heavy blow struck the back of his knees, forcing him to the ground! And most lethal of all, a ritual dagger, gleaming with a cold, spectral light, was placed with steady, unerring accuracy against his Adam's apple.
The icy blade pressed against his skin, transmitting a bone-deep chill and the immediate threat of death.
The entire sequence took less than half a breath, as if rehearsed a thousand times. Erika's feral power, caught in this perfectly coordinated, spatially-binding suppression, vanished like a stone dropped into the deepest ocean, failing to create even a single, complete ripple.
He was pinned mercilessly in place, unable to move, only his chest heaving with violent anger and ragged breaths.
Hong Bo stood there, completely unscathed, so close yet impossibly distant, his robes not even ruffled.
Hong Bo slowly raised a hand and delicately smoothed the strand of silver hair disturbed by the fist wind, his movements infuriatingly graceful. He looked down at the thoroughly restrained Erika, the compassionate expression back on his face. But deep within his eyes lay an absolute, utterly frigid emptiness.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice soft, yet it seeped into Erika's ears like poison:
"I admire your impulse, child. It proves you are... still vital."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the unconscious Loren before returning to Erika's rage-contorted face.
"But I never force a choice. I merely present the outcome."
"I permit your weakness. I permit your regret."
His voice dropped, becoming like the wind from the polar ice, carrying an absolute, godlike cruelty:
"But I never permit... waste."
The final two words were spoken almost in a whisper, yet they landed on Erika's heart like a sledgehammer.