Published at 5th of June 2020 10:02 am

Chapter 801 Judgement III

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At that moment, Albert turned his head in shock.

On the rain-covered street, he listened to the loud noise coming from afar. The sky was torn, and a hot wind stirred up the rain, sprinkling it upon him.

His face went pale.

He saw a white waterfall break free of gravity and rise into the sky.

It was the sea that had evaporated in the heat that rivaled that of the sun. The hot and thick water vapor rode on the burning wind, stacking up into a tower as it stretched into the sky.

In the end, it broke in the middle and collapsed towards the Sacred City.

The water vapor dissipated in the heavy wind and rain.

Then, a little orange light appeared on the towering wall. The dark color first turned to orange, then to red.

The redness spread in the torrential rain. The iron walls were burning red, and hot molten steel flew out of the violent storm.

The red hot iron flowed down from the wall and ran on the ground like tears that had been trampled on.

Finally, there was a tearing sound that shook the heavens and the earth.

The iron wall, which was several dozen measures thick, was penetrated by the assault of the endless movement. All enchantments and barriers were shredded like thin paper.

The burning red iron wall collapsed towards the earth.

A terrible thermal current spewed out from the gaps, piercing into the hinterlands of the Sacred City like a sharp blade.

The torrents flowed along the Prophet's Avenue, spread through the Sacred Square, rushed over all the streets and cruelly evaporating everything within it, leaving behind a spreading flame.

The sound of collapsing rang out continuously.

The violent winds spread the heat everywhere, nearly burning off Albert's hair.

In the distance, the middle city festival area was burned in the fire.

A sad and shrill tangential line spread out straight forward, followed by a red hot iron oar. It was smashed by the rain which quickly evaporated into steam, which dried up and condensed, giving off a pungent stench.

Melted black gold decorated the hot, dark surface. It had the texture of ore as it showed its twisted smile to the sky.

Then it was smashed to pieces by the sole of a foot.

Ye Qingxuan strode over the hole and stood in the Sacred City, looking upon it as it burned.

A cry came from afar.

He took off his gloves and threw them on the ground as if he were admiring this grand destruction. His heavy coat fluttered in the wind.

"Isn't this just great?" He bathed in the warm wind and narrowed his eyes. "At least it's a little bit warm."

Huge shadows slowly rose behind him. The Mountain of Nomadism rode high in the sky, casting a sinister outline over the burning city. Its endless artillery barrage continued.

On the sea by the coast, the Royal Navy that had been formed by the Firebird still spewed poisonous fire towards the sky. The stars rose up and after crossing over their pitch ark passed over the wall and fell into the city, setting off one roar after another.

After this tragic slaughter, armored knights who could not be infected fell from the sky and gathered behind him.

Finally, a wheelchair rolled up next to him, and the man in it looked up at him. "Shall we continue?"

"Yes." Ye Qingxuan nodded calmly, staring at the tower in the distance. "Are there not still many enemies to take down?"

"And the common people?"

"As long as they don't get in our way, let them go wherever they please."

"And those who resist?"

"Don't ask stupid questions."

Watson smiled and tapped the arm of his wheelchair. He narrowed his eyes. "What about those who surrender?"

Ye Qingxuan said nothing and just glanced at him.

That was his answer.

Watson waved his hand in a satisfied manner and issued the final order, "Purify!"

A horn sounded from the distant fleet.

Things made of steel fell from the sky like violent rain. They smashed into the ground, wedged into steel and stood up in the flames.

A forest of stakes stood upon the Sacred City.

After hundreds of years, the light of cruelty had returned with the Inquisition, covered the city, and burned everything!

…

In the center of the Church of the Holy Resurrection, Albert, who had been driven to distraction, pushed open the door and stumbled inside. He gazed at the back of the figure in there, tired and breathing heavily. In the quiet temple, there were only old people who hung their heads in prayer.

"Was it worth it, Sancta Sedes?" he asked hoarsely.

The King of Red looked down, and his expression was still calm. "What is there to feel bad about in using something that is destined to lose its value to take away a monster?"

The fall of the Church had already been destined at the moment of their defeat. This could not be changed. No one would let the vast organization that had once controlled the world reform.

They merely waited for the Church to be divided up. They would mercilessly settle their accounts and unreservedly suppress it, until all its residual value was squeezed out and it had been swept into the dust of history, becoming one thin page in a history book.

There was nothing wrong with this.

At least not for the final King of Red.

There was life and there was death. The Church's destruction had been destined on the day of its founding. It was nothing more than a matter of time. Even the gods couldn't live forever, let alone the obsessions left over from thousands of years ago.

The old times were fated to pass.

If he could complete his final mission with his dead body, then he could consider that a worthy death.

If he could no longer protect the world, he could at least eliminate the dangers of the future.

For the great and distant future of humanity.

Thus, the Church, who believed in God, would kill the god that had descended into the world.

Then they would use their remaining value to lay their final trap.

It was just like Hermes's prophecy—the old gods were dying.

The Three Pillar God, the Three Wise Men, the Four Living Creatures, the Eight Phenomena…

All the catastrophes had disappeared.

And after "Charles—the Scourge of God" had been destroyed, all that was left was "Ye Qingxuan—the Scourge of Humanity."

This was the deepest fear that the nations faced today.

If he chose to ascend the Sancta Sedes, who could stop him?

If the value of all things was decided by Ye Qingxuan, and if this excessive power went out of control, humanity would enter another Age of Dark.

Had people done everything they could to destroy a god only to allow another god to dominate everything?

Then, there was only one choice left.

Destroy him.

Destroy him just like Charles.

This was the nations' unspoken judgment.

There was nothing wrong with the Sacred City being buried alongside him. If they could complete their mission, then it would be fine to smash this corrupt and rotten organization along with him.

As long as they destroyed all the monsters in the world.

As long as they could welcome in a new era.

Among the burning and cries of mourning, the bell in the central church rang.

The judgment of the Son of God was about to begin, and the final accused was about to enter the stage.

"Let's go, Albert." The King of Red rose and walked towards the meeting place. "This is the last battle."

Albert still stood where he was.

He was trembling.

He didn't know if it was because of fear… or anger!

"This isn't a battle at all, Sancta Sedes!" He gritted his teeth, and yelled with all his might in a hoarse voice, "This is nothing more than despicable murder!"

The King of Red stopped and looked back. He looked calm and unperturbed.

"Are true battles not all like this? You cannot talk about grandeur and glory, or even tragedy. There is only the killing. Because you have to do the right thing. And you have to do it again and again. Even if it becomes fragmented in the future, a dead wilderness."

"The right thing?" Albert laughed weakly. "Is this what you want? Fine, I won't do it. At least I can choose not to do the right thing."

The King of Red looked away. He did not try to persuade him to stay, he just turned and left. He stubbornly walked towards the dead end.

He left Albert standing hopelessly where he was, looking at his back. He cried with all his might, "Until death! Wagner believed you could save the world again. How can you let him down?"

"No, I can't."

This was his final answer.

The King of Red opened the door and walked into the hall of judgment.

He closed the door.

…

The sound of slaughter echoed throughout the burning city.

The flow of armored knights ran through the city, separated, and spread out in all directions. Everywhere they went, they destroyed all the buildings, killed all who resisted, set fire to those who surrendered, and crushed everything within sight to dust.

Dressed in blood red robes, the Witch Hammers held up their sacred emblems, bringing fire and judgment to all heretics.

They washed away all sin.

They purified all corruption.

They destroyed all heresy.

Even though their enemy was the Church they did not hesitate.

The last team of Witch Hammers gathered at Ye Qingxuan's side, following the purification musician who had been given Master Level authority, heading straight towards the central sanctuary.

They destroyed all defense and resistance.

They marched through fire and blood.

They finally came to the Square of Holy Destiny.

The stone that had been inscribed with movements of fate had been cracked by the heat. It had collapsed and turned into a meaningless ruin.

At the other end of the square, the Templars guarding the palace drew their swords.

With a loud cry, reinforcements finally came from outside the city. The knights that seemed to be made of black gold fell in front of Ye Qingxuan like shooting stars, pulled out their great halberds, and pointed them at his face.

71 sets of gospel armor hung in the air, burning halos around their heads. They were armed with heavy spears and shields, forming a vague array.

"Let's do this quickly, don't waste any time." Ye Qingxuan waved tiredly. He looked at the palace towering in the distance. "I still have a trial that I need to attend. You don't want to make me be late."

The Witch Hammers drew their swords and stepped forward to attack the Knights Templar. The two sharp swords forged in the Sacred City finally collided with sparks and roars.

The war had finally reached its climax.

The blood red and black gold colors blended with each other, collided, and burst with a roar of gold and iron, sprinkling pure power and destruction all around.

In the midst of the chaotic fight, the knight in the center of the Templars, who was wearing a crown, drew his sword.

He chopped it forward!

It was like a dragon's roar.

In the roar of the air being cut, even swords that had received the blessing of the Day of God's Fury and knights in full armor were cut in half.

The terrible power burst forth in an instant, forming a whirlwind that whistled forward, blowing Ye Qingxuan's hair.

It stung his eyes.

The crowned knight stepped forward through the blood. His armor was ordinary, but in his hands was a power above that of gospel armor. No matter what enemy he faced, he simply cut them into two pieces.

In the end, he broke through the ranks of the Witch Hammers, and in the face of the fire and thunder that the purification musician sent forth he stood in front of Ye Qingxuan.

At ten meters apart, Ye Qingxuan could see the cracks left in his helmet. The weathered armor still bore its past glory. Now that it was covered in blood, it looked like a man-eating evil spirit.

Ye Qingxuan stared at him, and after a while, he said in a hoarse voice, "Long time no see, Father."

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