Generally speaking, when an unarmed person facing a monstrosity hundreds of meters long with six wings and four heads loses their weapon, they usually avoid facing it head-on. They circle and stall, searching for a weakness and an opportune moment to strike a killing blow.
Unfortunately, there are always exceptions.
Like Ji Jue, who maxed out his mechanics the moment he opened his eyes.
Or like Wen Wen... whose entire being was nothing but pure, unadulterated stats!
To hell with all your fancy tricks!
Take a fucking punch first, and we'll talk.
Like a fool punching head-on into an oncoming truck, this direct clash against the power of a Saint made Yidela feel as though he were that fully loaded truck, rumbling forward—only to slam headfirst into a mountain!
His vision went dark in bursts. Scales shattered, and his skull caved in with a massive rupture.
A deep indentation.
Unbelievable.
What the hell was this?! What on earth just happened? Where had he been sent flying to? Was this still the damn divine realm?!
How could something so bizarre happen!
Where had this terrifying power come from?
Even though he had heard grim tales of numerous angels suffering bitter defeat before this heretic, it was still hard to believe: could there truly exist something in this world capable of contending with divine grace?
No, it wasn't contention...
—It was [Negation]!
The moment realization dawned, a chill seized Yidela from head to toe!
Divine grace, blessing, holy power... whatever one called it, all the strength bestowed by the Holy God was completely washed away and shattered like a sandcastle the instant it made contact with her!
Reduced to its base form.
Bao Dachai had once come in search of this unique nature, slacking off while lurking in the resistance camp and observing in secret, only to discover that her very existence was completely different from what he had imagined!
Rather than being part of the dream, she was an anomaly forcibly stuffed into this phantasm.
Perhaps this too could be considered a form of Awakening—if Ji Jue eroded Huangliang with his own consciousness, then she repelled Huangliang with hers.
Using her own dream to isolate the illusion!
If this phantasm was an ocean, then she was a meteorite plunging into the deep. No matter how violent the undercurrents or how turbulent the tides, none could erode or shake her existence, nor would she ever blend with the sea!
Just as Ji Jue, his brain steeped in Embers, instinctively sought to transform everything, this stubborn, unyielding refusal to diminish or waver amid all shifting phenomena was perhaps the true revelation of the Desolate Ruins' essence.
And its outward manifestation was a near-miraculous spell immunity.
No buffs could take effect on her, and every mechanic was utterly useless in her presence.
She simply and brutally dragged every opponent down to the same blank-slate state as herself, and then used absurdly explosive raw stats to steamroll right over them!
Because she rejected the dream's infiltration, she feared no opponent. At the same time, because she refused all interaction and communication with the illusion, she had no way of affecting this world.
Even if she could weaken an opponent without limit, she could never land an effective killing blow.
Even if she smashed an enemy completely to pieces, grinding them to dust, in the blink of an eye they would resurrect in Tiancheng; at most, it only consumed a bit of spiritus.
If she had possessed Ji Jue's means of directly dissolving an opponent's consciousness and soul, she probably would have slaughtered her way entirely through this ridiculous divine dream all on her own!
Yet now, it was still not too late.
"I reckon that fellow Ji Jue still needs some time. Guess I'll play with you first."
Wen Wen rubbed her wrist, ignoring the split lacerations across the back of her hand, and suddenly let out a hearty laugh. "A dignified Saint surely won't get shattered as easily as those scraps outside, right?"
Boom!
Amid the abruptly rising gale, Wen Wen lunged forward. Piercing through the smoke and dust, she was right in front of him again. Then she swung another punch, slamming into the wing Yidela had hastily raised. Instantly, the wing tore apart.
In that split second, a serpentine tail swept across, colliding with Wen Wen and finally knocking her back. Yet amid the earth-shaking rumble, the tail's white bones were exposed, nearly snapped clean in two.
*No, I can't clash head-on with her—*
Twitching in agony and sensing the sheer hardness of his opponent, Yidela felt his blood run cold. But before he could even catch his breath, the figure that had just flown backward came hurtling right back at him!
Fast, too fast!
In his haste, flesh and bone twisted together at the stump of his broken wing, forming a grotesque arm that clashed against her fist—only to shatter again in a thunderous boom.
Having barely survived a single exchange, the mangled arm reached back and plunged straight down his own throat.
Blinding, blazing light gestated within the darkness and was dragged out inch by inch. Crimson lightning, condensed into solid form, intertwined in layers to fashion an uncanny greatsword.
Above the heavens, boundless dark clouds gathered out of thin air. Amid rolling thunder, a deafening blast echoed across Central City.
The lightning greatsword cleaved downward!
This time, facing Yidela's full-power strike, Wen Wen finally dodged. Everywhere the blade passed, everything was instantly incinerated to ash; the earth fractured, and flames erupted forth.
In an instant, the glorious and solemn Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice was reduced to a demonic hellscape, hideous and ferocious.
"As expected—"
Yidela laughed wildly. "No matter how bizarre a heretic's methods may be, they have their limits! I don't know how you erase divine protection, but at any given moment, what you can erase must have a ceiling!"
As long as the sheer volume was sufficient, it would overwhelm her negation and severely wound the vile heretic!
"Tsk!"
Wen Wen's expression turned cold. Without looking back, she shouted, "Ji Jue, aren't you done yet?!"
"How long has it even been?"
Under the fearless onslaught of the Saint's guardian angels, Ji Jue's voice drifted over from a distance, broken and intermittent: "Hang on, I'm already out the door—*cough cough*—I've already started, almost done! Sister Wen, hold on a little longer!"
"You'd better be!"
Wen Wen's blood pressure was on the verge of spiking through the roof. Her face twitched, and she was about to urge him again, but the lightning sword cleaved down once more amid manic laughter!
Amid continuous earth-shaking booms, the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice disintegrated into rubble and ruins at a visible pace. Even the entire plaza and surrounding districts were engulfed by coursing lightning and leaping flames.
Facing the Saint who now held the sky and gave his all, Wen Wen could only dodge in disarray, urging Ji Jue repeatedly.
"Aren't you done yet?!"
"Almost, almost!"
...
"Didn't you just say 'almost'?!"
"Yeah, and now it's even almost-er! Truly almost!"
...
"Ji Jue, you'd better hurry!"
"Well, if you put it that way, I'll just have to take my time and do delicate work..." From within the heavy encirclement of angels, that infuriating voice drifted out again. "Right away, really soon, just wait a bit!"
"Tell the damn truth, what percentage are you at?!" Wen Wen roared in fury.
"Ah, well... eight percent... *cough cough*, six... thirty percent?"
Wen Wen's vision started going dark.
She finally understood the saying: trust a craftsman, and pigs might as well fly!
Wait, could this bastard still be collecting data? Right now? Selling out his teammate?! Where the hell did all those glowing reviews of his come from?!
To hell with it—
Wen Wen clenched her fists.
Yet that momentary distraction left her cornered, her movements completely hemmed in by the rifts in the earth and the spewing fires of Limbo. Up in the sky, Yidela grinned and laughed maniacally as the heaven-filling lightning sword cleaved down with all its might!
Boom!!!
The entirety of Central City shook violently, blast waves rolling outward.
In an instant, the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice became a sunken crater; everything in sight was flattened into rubble.
And yet...
The blade came to an abrupt halt!
Right before that raised palm.
—Blocked?!
Yidela's eyes widened. Darkness flickered before his sight, and a bone-deep chill washed over him. His all-out strike, the sword of divine punishment that should have instantly vaporized the heretic and burned her to ashes, had been stopped so effortlessly!
"How... how could you... No, I clearly..."
Beneath the blazing lightning, a bone-deep laceration appeared across Wen Wen's palm as she gripped the blade tightly.
At most, it was just a cut. Nothing more.
She asked in apparent confusion, "When did I ever say I had a limit?"
Boom!
The moment her fingers clenched, cracks rapidly spread and fractured across the ethereal lightning blade!
As for why she had dodged for so long, it was entirely because...
When she was little, she had been genuinely afraid of pain!
No, not just that...
*"This won't do, Xiao Wen. A girl needs to be elegant. Don't go getting mud all over yourself at every turn."*
In her memories, a voice so gentle it was sickening whispered counsel in her ear, filled with expectation: *"Be a good girl, okay?"*
*"Okay!"*
Back then, the little girl had laughed brightly and nodded without hesitation, engraving those words into her heart.
Fuck you and your dogshit, Wen Zheng!
Wen Wen ground her teeth.
The moment she finally realized the shackles lingering in her subconscious, she could no longer hold back her fury!
"—Die!"
A punch brimming with resentment, loathing, and displaced wrath unleashed over two hundred percent of her power. It ruthlessly crushed the remaining sword of lightning and flame head-on, snapped that bastard's arm, vaulted into the sky, and hammered him down into the ruins.
And right after, like a falling meteor, she plummeted.
Stomp!
"Feeling pleased with yourself just now, were you?"
That blood-stained face looked down without expression. Tightening her dripping fist, she gestured at the remaining three and a half faces. "Which mouth was laughing the loudest again?"
Yidela opened his jaws and roared, a tide of gravity erupting once more.
Yet this time, it was smothered in the cradle.
An instant stomp landed directly on the giant serpent's neck. The colossal force nearly snapped his body in two, followed immediately by a merciless punch!
Then another punch! And another!
She vented the fury in her heart without restraint, brutalizing him with absolute ruthlessness.
Earth-shaking crashes resounded endlessly. In mere moments, the once-solemn and august Saint was reduced to a wreck resembling a battered rag doll. No matter how swiftly he regenerated, he could not recover; instead, it only prolonged his agony indefinitely.
Amid tremors and thunderous blows, blood gushed and bone splinters flew.
Yet the mangled Saint began to laugh instead, hoarse and mocking.
"Such feeble strength! Haha! No matter how immense a heretic's power may be, how could it ever shake the majesty of the divine? It is nothing more than futility!"
The two broken faces stitched together curled their lips. "Ah, right, I remember now... The Holy God, haha, the Holy God once said..."
The remaining bloodshot solitary eye stared at the overconfident opponent before him, relaying the judgment:
"'Merely discarded scrap. Leaving her alone matters not. Futile struggling, irrelevant to the grand design.' Heh, hahaha, hahahaha—"
Boom!!!
The mangled skull was driven deep into the scorched earth.
Wen Wen's eyes were crimson. Slowly, she withdrew her fist, looking as though she had finally given up on her futile violence.
Yet at that moment, within the dead silence that enveloped the world, a crisp chime seemed to ring out, remarkably clear.
*Ding—*
At Ji Jue's feet, amid the wreckage and gore of hundreds of angels, newly reconstituted metallic light rose slowly.
Having slaughtered all of the Saint's guards, he had extracted every material to forge a weapon through fusion, and its outline now emerged. Stripped of all radiance and splendor, infinite crimson gathered and overlapped until, in the end, it turned into the purest pitch black.
"Mission accomplished."
Ji Jue flicked the blade and tossed it.
The spear tore through the air into Wen Wen's grasp, violently vibrating as though awakening.
The darkness peeled away like verdigris. Emerging from beneath the crimson was a dazzling, crystalline phantom light, as if carved from crystal. The seemingly fragile spearhead looked ready to shatter at a touch, yet merely swinging it sliced through the illusion, leaving gashes and scars in midair that refused to mend.
The moment one held it, they would know: this truly was a masterwork worth every second of the wait!
"Right on time, Ji Jue."
She exhaled softly, tightening her grip.
And when the tip leveled at the Saint's face, Yidela's contorted expression finally froze. He twitched and spasmed involuntarily, as if sensing demise breathing down his neck.
At that very instant, the corners of Wen Wen's mouth finally curved upward.
She broke into a smile.
"Perhaps it is futile struggling, and calling me scrap doesn't bother me either. But none of that changes one simple fact... The one who was abandoned was never me."
Looking down scornfully at the foe beneath her boots, she told him word by word:
"—*I* was the one who threw away that trash!"
Bang!
The furious roar cut off abruptly.
Endless fierce light poured from the wound, swallowed entirely by the spearhead in Wen Wen's hands.
The moment she plunged the inverted spear down, Yidela's colossal body stiffened. Then, like an overinflated balloon, it rapidly swelled and burst!
Foul-smelling gore erupted like a waterfall, coursing along the fissures in all directions.
Just like rolling waves.
Throughout the Eastern Parish—no, throughout the world beneath Tiancheng—nearly everyone heard that shriek laden with despair and rage.
Dead silence. Amid the lingering stillness, bewildered believers looked up one by one, staring blankly toward the ruins of the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice.
And then, they saw...
A rotting corpse completely devoid of life and breath, shattered pale bones—all that remained of Saint Yidela!
The death of a Saint!
Sounds of collapse arose from the sky, the earth, and every direction. At that moment, a gap—a fissure—seemed to open in the hearts of all who belonged to the dream.
Even the entire world felt as if a piece had gone missing.
"I see..."
Ji Jue looked down at the bones beneath his feet, realization striking him. "Seven Saints... one-seventh, is it?"
The seven Saints at the pinnacle of the Order were likely seven vital pillars, the foundational beams supporting this endless phantasm.
The Holy God had distributed his power, and in doing so, had turned their very existence into fulcrums of this world!
No, the dream had originally been born from the Huangliang Relic; it shouldn't have needed pillars at all. Quite the contrary... the seven Saints were merely tools and chains used by the Holy God to bind and control this illusion!
Now, with Yidela's death, the boundless dark clouds in the sky rapidly dissipated, revealing fissure-like traces.
Behind those rifts, layers of eerie phantom light cascaded down. Like a mirage, a magnificent city above the clouds came into view, with towering, solemn structures stretching toward the edge of heaven, and angels faintly visible rising and descending like birds...
Beholding this sight, wailing and weeping erupted across the earth, rising and falling in waves.
After weathering one shock after another, the battered believers could not help but weep at the spectacle of Tiancheng.
Forgetting everything that had just occurred, they knelt on the ground, kowtowing devoutly.
Once again, they began to pray.
They prayed for salvation, prayed for peace, prayed that a blessed life might return to them once more.
Some regarded everything that had transpired as a divine trial, weeping tears of profound emotion after surviving the ordeal. Others took it as the arrival of the Day of Revelation, praying feverishly to prove their devotion so they might ascend to the Kingdom of Heaven...
Yet others seemed to guess the truth, their faces draining of color.
The moment they realized, they turned on their heels and ran for their lives!
Unfortunately, it was already too late.
At the highest point of Tiancheng, the Pope lowered his gaze, looking down upon the mortal world beneath his feet...
"This place has been tainted by evil and fallen into heresy. There is no longer any need for salvation."
In his hand, the seal was slowly raised and coldly stamped down, sealing the final fate of every survivor.
The Holy God's grace must suffer no flaw; the Holy God's omnipotence must suffer no defilement; nor could heretics be allowed to don the robes of priests and throw the Order into turmoil.
Purge all witnesses, sever every infiltration of the heretics, and eradicate all potential corruption!
"Therefore, by decree: Absolute Sentence!"
A grand tolling of bells sounded, and holy hymns resonated between heaven and earth as the projection of Tiancheng grew clearer and clearer.
All phenomena under heaven turned brilliant as gold, dazzling and resplendent.
"The Kingdom of Heaven—it must be the descent of the Kingdom of Heaven!"
Amid the prayers and ecstatic cries of countless believers, beams of sacred heavenly light streamed down from the firmament, washing over the surroundings of the Great Sanctuary of Sacrifice and engulfing every believer!
Abruptly, all things fell silent.
Only stiffened bodies remained frozen in place, locked in postures of ecstasy or weeping like statues. When a distant breeze brushed past, they crumbled into sulfur and salt, scattering without a trace.
And beneath the illumination of those pillars of light, the earth seemed to turn translucent, revealing the boundless sea of fire hidden beneath, as well as souls screaming in despair as they plunged into the flames.
Henceforth cast into Limbo, to burn for eternity!
Bathed in the holy light, the filthy mortal realm seemed once again restored to purity and beauty.
Amid the rustling drift of sulfur and salt dust, echoes of past prayers seemed to linger, tumbling into the dust and gore, reverberating endlessly.
Among the rubble and ruins, the broken bones left by the Saint were bathed in the fading light, long since devoid of life.
Only the hollow black eye sockets seemed still to gaze toward Tiancheng.
Chapter 515