Battle Bliss! The Bishop's Supreme Violence!

Atop the platform, Castian finally moved. He drove his scepter upside down into the ground.

Clang!

The shaft sank into the frozen earth, its tip still trembling faintly.

Then he hooked five fingers beneath the straps across his chest and tore them away. Breastplate and church robes flew off together and struck the ground.

Castian's bare upper body was lean, but there was nothing frail about it. His muscles rose along his bones like steel cables twisted taut.

More striking were the broad swaths of dark-gold Holy Runes across his skin.

They ran from his collarbones to his waist, then spread along his arms and spine, crossing layer upon layer as though the Sacred Flame had branded them into his flesh again and again.

Jarro landed in the center of the breach. He had just stamped a Holy Knight into the ground when his slit pupils locked on Castian as he stepped forward.

A low growl rolled from his throat, and his fury burned hotter. This was an insult. This old bastard thought he wasn't even worth putting on armor to fight.

Awooo!

Jarro threw back his head and roared. He crouched low on all fours, then launched his enormous body forward again, skimming the ground.

This time, he did not charge the shield formation. He went straight for Castian.

Half a ton of flesh bore down on him. The air burst with a muffled boom, and black blood and splintered bone sprayed backward from the ground. Yet Castian did not move so much as half a step.

The dark-gold Holy Runes across his body lit up together, as though someone had poured molten golden rock into his aging frame.

Battle Aura surged through the Holy Runes and into his right arm. His muscles tightened, and his fist shot out