When Vasco stepped into Father Stra's church again, Father Stra was hanging his many colorful pairs of underwear out to dry in the courtyard.
So beneath that old bastard's black priestly robe, it really was this colorful... Vasco abruptly shook his head, casting off the strange intrusive thought.
"That middle-parted fellow didn't come?" Seeing that Father Stra was still hanging his underwear with no intention of stopping, Vasco finally couldn't help asking.
The church was unusually peaceful, as though nothing had happened... But Vasco had clearly sensed a powerful fluctuation of energy—it was unmistakably a fluctuation of Holy Power, and evidently not Stra's Holy Power.
Come to think of it, Vasco still found it strange. Father Stra had clearly been called a blasphemer by that Descending Angel, yet he could still wield such immense Holy Power.
"Middle-parted fellow?" Only then did the priest stop what he was doing. He sank into his memories, then revealed a sorrowful expression. "They're all dead."
Vasco opened his mouth. He clearly didn't believe it.
"All dead?" Vasco immediately let out a cold laugh. "Where are the bodies? You can't even see a single corpse. Don't tell me you fed them all to the cats?"
"How did you know?" Father Stra was instantly shocked, then angrily shouted, "Vasco, I thought we were good brothers! So you've always had a peeping habit? Tell me, back in the training camp, when we showered together, what exactly were you doing behind my back!?"
The priest looked both shocked and furious, trembling all over with indignation. He couldn't have looked more wronged.
Vasco could only stare hard at him... By now, even he couldn't determine whether Father Stra's mental state was sound or not, or whether what he said was true.
But if the Holy Church's holy knights and