The figure in the mirror said, "This is the disaster you left behind, Julius."
According to their original plan, Henry VI was supposed to be severely injured in the campaign while the Lindong Witch would die in the Imperial Capital. However, what they didn’t anticipate was that the Violet Commune had planted a pawn within the church, who stabilized the Lindong Witch’s injuries with a blessing at her last breath and secretly helped her evade the Kingdom Army’s spies and leave the Imperial Capital.
Julius’s face twisted, teeth clenched.
It was the greatest failure of his life; his student had betrayed him!
Even though he later substituted her for Lindong, and burned her at the stake in public, it still did not quell his hatred.
And two years later, that blunder brought about new threats.
"Teacher, compared to Lindong Witch, how do you assess her student’s prowess in the field of Elemental Shaping magic?"
"Regardless, he only has two years."
The figure in the mirror did not directly answer, giving a command in a somber tone, "Yet that witch is the most gifted Elemental Shaper I’ve ever seen. This storm might still be orchestrated by her behind the scenes, but the injuries she sustained two years ago are not so easily healed... Julius, assemble the Choir, and before that, have the Kingdom Army capture Ave at all costs. As for the Lindong Witch, if I could handle her once, I can do it a second time."
"I will do it immediately."
Julius’s expression was solemn, the final confrontation was at hand.
But he believed his teacher could still clear the obstacles before him — it had always been so.
Having received his teacher’s promise, his heart finally settled. He had enough means to force Ave to appear.
Although Abaddon was hardly reliable, he obeyed his commands.
Unexpectedly, Julius hadn’t even called upon Abaddon when the latter voluntarily came to the Imperial Capital Cathedral.
At the first sight of Julius, Abaddon burst towards him, ignoring the priest’s obstruction.
The reason for the obstruction was evident.
His silver-white armor was undergoing some unsettling transformation, bloody ice stained his armor red, and an eye opened on his shoulder plates.
"Pope, you were right, that investigator really is a follower of the Evil God; how should we deal with him?"
Abaddon’s emotions were on the brink of collapse, shouting uncontrollably, unclear whether from fear or anger, "You must have a way to deal with him, right?"
He had thought he had survived, hesitating whether to tell the Pope about meeting the investigator, which should be an important piece of information for the church, but would also reveal yet another failure to the Pope.
Recent events had inflicted a series of painful blows on him.
Until, suddenly, the ice-covered part of the armor stirred, and when he looked, Abaddon witnessed a scene that he would never forget — his armor sprouted an eye, and that rotating eyeball was staring at him.
The terrifying mutation did not stop there; the red ice spread across his body, as if encasing him in another layer of bloody armor over the knight’s armor.
"Pope, you’ve burned so many followers of the Evil God; surely you can help me!"
More and more eyeballs appeared, spreading from Abaddon’s shoulder plates across his body, forming a terrifying hellish mural, scaring the blocking priests so much that they fled in terror out of the Pope’s hall, fearing they might become infected as well.
"Abaddon, stand down!"
Julius roared harshly, his scalp tingling.
However, Abaddon ignored his warning, recklessly charging at him, even when silver-white light balls blasted him away, he would get up again from the floor, launching another charge.
His mental state had become extremely abnormal, seemingly unable to feel pain anymore, even when Julius, intent on killing him, cast spells, they couldn’t pierce Abaddon’s strange armor but rather caused it to sprout wriggling tendrils — these tendrils didn’t attack but rather made Julius hear some kind of call.
"Pope, I’ve always painstakingly completed your orders, are you going to abandon me?"
"Abaddon, I said, stand down!"
Julius intensified his tone, attempting to use authority to mask his inner panic, and his casting became increasingly fierce; he no longer cared whether Abaddon would survive, he just wanted to tear apart the strange armor along with Abaddon.
This incompetent wretch!
Murderous intent flickered in Julius’s eyes; this time, he aimed at Abaddon’s face — the armor-free part.
Silver-white transformed into countless arrows, bursting above Abaddon’s head.
The cathedral shuddered, Abaddon froze, looking upwards, "Pope, are you going to kill me?"
The tendrils on the armor shielded him, forming a flesh barrier that blocked the arrows aiming at Abaddon’s head.
This awakened Abaddon from his trance.
"Pope, you actually don’t know how to deal with followers of the Evil God, do you?
"You only pin the blame on those who can’t resist you, to burn them easily at the stake...
"When encountering real followers of the Evil God, you really don’t know how to deal with them.
"So, you can’t save me."
Abaddon muttered to himself, seeming to finally untangle his thoughts, his gaze suddenly turning fierce, his eyes turning red, his voice no longer humble but filled with demand, "Then what difference is there between you and me? Since that’s the case, then you will accompany me!"