The Vatican was one of the few blessed paradises among the Western traditions. The chaos of that day had been like a hard slap across their faces. A group of great figures had nearly overturned the table as they urgently summoned every faction.
Within the Vatican, the great figures were deeply worried, their brows tightly furrowed. They were absolute giants across the West, yet at this moment, all of them felt the situation was troublesome and thorny.
What had happened at the Vatican that day was quickly linked to the heretical Blazing Fire incident in Jerusalem. In fact, much of the evidence showed that these two events had essentially been planned by the same force.
Once the truth had been clarified, things should have been easy to handle. But the problem was that the person who had been constantly ambushing and killing cultivators some time ago had now vanished without a trace. They could not find any further clues at all. That was the most troublesome predicament.
In the end, the Pope spoke. His expression was as calm as still water, and after a long while, he said in a deep voice, "It is no matter. Our faith is omnipotent. There will always be a way to deal with that Godspawn Heretic."
Upon hearing this, one of the Vatican's experts could not help asking, "Your Holiness, do you have a plan? Should we inform Jerusalem?"
Without revealing anything, the Pope glanced at the relatively young Ascetic. This little fellow had chosen a narrow path. His eyes were profound and unfathomable like the sea. Sitting above them all, he was as still as a mountain.
"Jerusalem? What are they worth? Our relationship with them is merely cooperation. In the Past, we occasionally needed them to display miracles. They are not truly