Angel Phantom

The barrier shrouding Grim Port remains faintly visible.

Allen's face darkened.

Everyone's expression changed.

Even the peak of the Fourth Order couldn't be used?

"... We can't get out." Old Morgan's voice was low as he stood beside Lu Yuan, his hand holding the weapon trembling slightly.

Behind them, the Flesh Tree continued to spread, and the "resurrected" heads were still frantically calling out "Mother." Ahead, the road was blocked.

Grim Port... is indeed under blockade.

An atmosphere of despair began to spread.

"Deploy defenses!"

Allen turned around, his voice cold and decisive, interrupting the spreading despair.

"All Holy Armor Army and Night Watcher, disperse! Establish Defense Line in the rear! Buy time! Don't let those things get close!"

"Understood!" Xi Wading responded immediately, swinging his giant blade. "Left wing, follow me!"

"The right flank is mine." Raymond ordered the remaining Holy Armor Army to spread out to the right. "Everyone, keep your distance and don't linger in battle!"

The two Judge beside the Great Ascendant also joined the battle at his signal.

They began firing at the spreading Flesh Tree.

The firelight and Holy Light intertwined, forming a temporary Defense Line at the rear.

But everyone knows this is just a delaying tactic.

There are too many Flesh Tree; it's only a matter of time before the Defense Line are breached.

Hans had joined the defense, wielding a silver greatsword and repelling the Flesh Tree that were spreading from the west. He had cut down countless vines, but more were still pouring out.

"Don't let them get any closer!" Hans roared, severing several vines with a single stroke of his sword. "Hold the Defense Line!"

Mary, positioned in the center, held her gun, the muzzle spitting fire as she repelled the Aberrant attempting to break through the blockade.

Her face was covered in rain and gunpowder, but her eyes remained calm.

The sound of collapsing buildings echoed in the distance; yet another area was swallowed up by the Flesh Tree.

Just then, the sound of a horse-drawn carriage wheel rolling over a stone road came from afar.

A black carriage caravan emerged from the inner city, its wheels stained with blood, churning the rain-soaked cobblestones with a dull thud.

"It's the church!" someone shouted, their voice filled with barely suppressed excitement.

The crowd deployed ahead automatically parted to make way.

The white-robed Priest alighted from the carriage, accompanied by his Deacon who carried Scripture.

They radiated a faint glow, and wherever the Holy Light passed, the filth in the air seemed to be dispelled.

Their arrival diluted some of the despair that permeated the crowd.

The convoy stopped, and the car doors opened.

The Archbishop stepped out of the car, his purple robes fluttering in the rain.

Lu Yuan noticed that his condition was completely different from when he was at the Viscount's Residence.

The old man who nearly collapsed upon learning that the Angel's gaze had shifted away was gone; in his place was a resolute determination, as if he had already given up.

His face was still pale, but his gaze had regained its composure.

It's as if a certain decision has been made.

The Archbishop's gaze swept over the barely visible barrier before him, then glanced at the Flesh Tree spreading behind him.

"Make way, let us have it."

His voice carried an undeniable air of authority.

Allen glanced at him, asked no further questions, and quickly stepped back to make way.

His attacks had no effect on the barrier; now it was up to the church to come up with a solution.

Lu Yuan's hand was still clutching the Parchment Scroll in his arms.

Lu Yuan had already grasped the barrier when Allen attacked it.

But nothing happened.

There were no system notifications, no unusual activity, nothing at all.

It's like an ordinary roll of sheepskin.

Lu Yuan didn't know what this thing was waiting for, but he had no other choice at the moment.

Let's first look at the Archbishop's method.

If that still doesn't work...

He glanced at the scroll in his arms.

Then we'll have to open it.

The Archbishop did not delay and waved to signal.

One of the larger carriages opened its door, and six Deacon filed out.

They carried a white, carved Sarcophagus and walked slowly forward, each step taken with utmost solemnity.

The Sarcophagus emitted a soft glow, contrasting sharply with the surrounding darkness and bloodshed.

"What is that?" someone asked in a low voice.

No one answered.

The Sarcophagus was lowered, and the lid was slowly pushed open.

Inside lay an Angel Statue.

Pure white wings, closed eyes, clasped hands—every line exudes a sacred aura.

Just lying there quietly made the surrounding air feel heavy.

Lu Yuan felt an invisible pressure emanating from the statue, a feeling similar to when he first entered the Church, but stronger and more real.

At the edge of my field of vision, gray and white text danced silently:

[High-tier Divine Item Detected: Angel Vessel (Hibernation)]

[Characteristic: A vessel for Holy Power, capable of temporarily holding the will of Angel]

"Angel Vessel..." Old Morgan's voice was somewhat hoarse as he whispered, "He wants to use the vessel to summon the power of Angel."

Lu Yuan recalled what the Archbishop had said before: Angel cannot cross that boundary without a physical form.

So he brought the vessel, which was also their last trump card at the Grim Port Church.

The Archbishop walked up to the statue, took out a small silver knife from his pocket, and looked solemn.

He cut his palm, and blood dripped onto the pure white stone surface, a shocking sight as crimson and white intertwined.

The Priest formed a circle, their Scripture open, and began to chant ancient prayers in hushed tones.

The prayers were in a language Lu Yuan couldn't understand, but each syllable seemed to carry some strange power, making the air heavy.

Cracks began to appear on the surface of the statue as the Hymn rose and fell.

Those cracks are not signs of damage, but rather traces of some kind of awakening.

Golden light seeped from the crack, growing brighter and brighter until finally the statue's eyes slowly opened.

Those were eyes without pupils, only pure golden light.

Lu Yuan instinctively held his breath.

A phantom image peeled away from the stone.

Its golden wings spread out, reaching several meters in height, radiating a scorching Holy Light.

The light was so dazzling that the people below dared not look directly at it.

The phantom hovered in mid-air, looking down at the crowd below, sacred and majestic.

The black mist that filled the air was briefly suppressed by the Holy Light, and the heads that had been calling out "Mother" fell silent for a moment, as if even they were intimidated by this power.

"It's Angel!..." someone exclaimed in a low voice.

Everyone's eyes were tense as they focused on the golden phantom.

Whether they can leave alive depends entirely on the church.

The Angel phantom flew toward the barrier before them, its golden hands pressing against the faintly visible barrier.

Holy Light shone brightly.

The barrier began to tremble under the Holy Light, emitting a low hum.

A crack was slowly torn open.

"It worked!" A voice rang out from the Ascension Society Clan, filled with suppressed excitement.

The crack is widening, one inch, two inches, three inches...

Lu Yuan sensed a sigh of relief from Old Morgan beside him.

Allen, who was looking directly at them from a distance, also relaxed his brow slightly.

Some people in the crowd began to show expressions of relief, as if they had survived a disaster.

"We can go out now..."

"We can get out now..."

A look of joy had just appeared on his face --

The next moment, a large amount of black pus gushed out of the crack.

The pus, as if alive, spread wildly along the crack, and the golden light began to corrode the Angel phantom the moment it touched it.

"No!" Allen's expression changed drastically.

The Angel let out a silent scream.

The phantom distorted and deformed, and black spots appeared on the golden wings, as if they had been scorched.

It struggled to break free, but the black pus seemed to be alive, clinging to it tightly and constantly eroding it.

The Archbishop's face turned deathly pale instantly.

"No..."

He suddenly bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the Scripture in his hand.

The Holy Light surrounding his body began to surge wildly, continuously flowing towards the statue.

"My lord! Your body cannot withstand this!" a Priest exclaimed.

The Archbishop ignored him; blood was seeping from his eyes and flowing from the corner of his mouth, but the transmission of Holy Light did not stop.

It's useless.

The Angel phantom continued to darken.

The gold was slowly fading, like a candle flame being swallowed up inch by inch by darkness.

The phantom's struggles grew weaker and weaker, like a bird stuck in the mud, sinking deeper with each flap.

"How is this possible..." the Archbishop's voice was filled with despair, "With a vessel, the power of the Angel... how could it be suppressed..."