This was a clash between two terrifying wills, one that even surpassed the two men themselves. The power they drew upon grew ever stronger, yet Ye Xiwen still held the upper hand.
The Pope could only borrow the power of faith, while Ye Xiwen could borrow the will of the entire human race. That was the fundamental difference—the power Ye Xiwen could draw upon was stronger.
Two unimaginable wills and forces poured down, raging through their bodies.
Compared to Ye Xiwen, who used his fist intent to draw upon the will of the world, the Pope was wholly relying on his physical body to bear the power of faith in battle.
He had already been injured, and now he had to forcibly withstand the eruption of this power. It was an exceedingly arduous task.
At first, he had been evenly matched with Ye Xiwen, but as time passed, he gradually fell into a disadvantage.
Before long, even many of the believers below could see it. Blood dripped down from time to time, each drop weighing as heavily as a thousand jun, falling from the sky and even threatening to pierce through the defensive barrier. One could well imagine just how tyrannical the Pope's strength was. Yet even after borrowing the power of faith, he still could not suppress Ye Xiwen. How terrifying was that?
The Pope's injuries were certainly one reason, but the root cause was that Ye Xiwen's strength had likely reached an utterly terrifying level, enough to contend with the Pope.
Rumble!
Rumble!
Rumble!
Thunderous explosions rang out from time to time. Powerful energies burst continuously through the sky, punching out enormous black holes. From afar, they looked like a honeycomb of colossal voids, a sight that sent chills down one's spine.
Boom!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
After a