Bai Zhu patted his waist.
The Pope's head swayed back and forth at his waist with its eyes closed.
"Hey, stop playing dead."
The head's eyelids twitched, but it made no sound.
Bai Zhu looked around.
The ground was covered in chopped-up fungal flesh. The blood left behind by the acting Holy See flowed down through the cracks in the stone. Several strands of unburned mycelium had just poked their heads out when Piyu crushed them underfoot.
"Ugh!" Bai Zhu darted aside with a germaphobic look, rubbed the blood off his shoe soles against the ground, then spoke to the others.
"Collect whatever needs collecting first. See how much longer this place can hold."
Milluki raised his terminal, and a heat map of the fortress's perimeter appeared on the screen.
"Those Orcs outside are still tearing down the walls. The water wall Gela Jiang set up has already been reduced by half. It can last a few more minutes at most."
"A few minutes is enough."
Bai Zhu turned and walked toward the other end of the Black Gate platform.
The blood man formed from the Golden Candle Envoy was still pinned to the tracks by water bindings.
That puddle of blood had already stopped struggling, shrinking into a half-human-height mass. Its bony core floated in the center, slowly rotating. Every time it completed a turn, the blood bulged outward as if something were trying to crawl out from inside.
Gela Jiang stood beside it, doing his best to maintain his ability.
Sweat dripped from his forehead into the puddles. The two streaks of blood beneath his nose had become heavy streams, yet he did not relax in the slightest.
"This thing is slippery."
Gela Jiang caught his breath.
"The moment I loosen up even a little, it tries to