1797 Bishop Simon Is On Stage!

Riding on his horse, old Marquis Horton saw the guardian squad of War God Temple further away, a smile hanging on his face. Everything was as expected.

Against an outsider, Lady Calamity might turn a blind eye as long as the outsider didn't mess with her own benefits, but the God of War who was known for his hot-blooded attitude and would react differently.

He would surely make a move, even if he was confronting Lady Calamity.

Looking at that group of guardian squad, which obviously consisted of the elites of War God Temple, the old marquis couldn't help but sigh.

He suddenly thought of their allies.

Other than the royal court guardians, there were no other troops that could reach such a level.

As for the soldiers in the military camp situated inside Edatine Castle?

Even the strongest one among them would never be a match for the elite warrior from War God Temple, he might not even withstand a single blow.

Those soldiers were once civilians, so many things were determined before they even became a soldier.

No meant no!

No matter how hard the soldiers worked or fought, it was impossible!

On the contrary, the private militia of the nobles had some potential to rival the temple guardian squad.

However, other than resorting to some strange methods to create more soldiers, those private militias could barely match the elite warriors.

It was good news though. At least it would be easier to deal with the nobles and their private militia in the future.

For example…

Unconsciously, the old marquis turned back and glanced over the convoy.

"I originally thought you could be on our side, but unfortunately, all of you have chosen the wrong path."

Muttering deep in his heart, the old marquis subtly signaled to the royal court guardians around him. The guardian riders who were escorting the Sicar convoy quickly changed into a march, which was performed subtly, but things had turned out differently.

With the royal court guardians out of the way, the elite warriors from War God Temple could go after the Sicar convoy directly. They wouldn't need to go around the royal court guardians anymore.

Rogart, as big as a bear, drove the wagon carrying the lord emissary and the baroness.

The young man saw the subtle formation change in the riders, a sense of coldness flashing over his eyes coupled with a very subtle grin.

There was no need to be afraid of an expected matter.

When they departed from Sicar, they already knew what they would have to face sooner or later.

Quite the opposite, the temperament of that prestiged noble earlier struck a sense of falsity in the young man's heart.

The late Viscount Sicar might be a noble but he was much more straightforward. The rules he set were abided by himself too, there would never be any exception.

However, the prestiged noble that welcomed them earlier reeked of falsity from inside to outside.

It wasn't the first time the young man met a noble with such falsity.

As a matter of fact, most of the nobles he met were the same as the prestiged noble.

Speak of one thing but do another.

The nature of the behaviour was nothing but endless enjoyment of a prestiged position.

Anything that came out of their mouths or any actions they took were just something for them to climb higher and faster.

Stopping? Impossible.

Greed was a bottomless abyss.

When you gazed into the abyss, the abyss gazed back at you.

The scarier thing was, other than the abyss itself, there were many more unknown existences watching you as well.

The young man hoped that he wouldn't be that guy.

Therefore, while he was saying the Mist's name in his heart, he knocked a bit on the carriage behind him.

The knock was soft but the young Rogart was certain the lord emissary could hear it.

As for the rest, leave it to the lord emissary!

If a fight broke out, Rogart would charge heads on; if a negotiation happened, the brothers and sisters behind the convoy would be a much better candidate than him.

Now all he had to do was prepare himself quietly.

The change in his mind changed his presence slightly too.

A moment ago, Rogart felt like a giant, lazy bear but now he became a grizzly bear, ready to throw himself at the target, clawing his enemies away.

The change of presence caught the old marquis' attention, but he quickly shook his head.

The land of Sicar was considerably huge, producing a slightly stronger young man wasn't some inconceivable thing to happen. Quite the opposite, if there wasn't any powerful youth from Sicar, it would be strange.

'Too bad, one person can't change anything,' the old marquis was utterly sure with his thought.

The convoy moved closer to the city gate and ultimately stopped.

The convoy from Sicar faced directly against the elite warriors from War God Temple.

The royal court guardians had stepped away. The civilians and merchants that hoped to go into the city also kept their distance. Some prestiged nobles popped their heads over the city walls, looking down at the bunch.

All of them had cruel anticipation on their faces.

They hoped for blood to shed, they hoped for bodies to scatter, they hoped to see a bloody dancefloor, after all… they were not the one on the chopping board, right?

Inside the carriage, the baroness intuitively prayed to the Mist.

She had no idea what to do in times like this to help Simon, so all she could do was pray.

Bloody Mary smiled, nodded, and then pushed the door open to get out.

He showed a warm smile at the other brothers and sisters in the convoy who travelled with it.

It then took the first step forward and slowly walked to the ground of elite temple warriors.

"Humans are the most conflicted beings. They are weak but strong at the same time; they are valiant but they slaughter; they are merciful yet ruthless. They show compassion but are selfish. They are respected by others but always helpless and alone; they have good in them but the bad is also obvious. But so what? They are human, it's their nature to be as such. They need to grow into a better self and my lord is willing to burden all this, witnessing their growth. Bishop Simon of Mist, sending my regards to everyone from War God Temple."

Bloody Mary put its hands together in front with one hand fanned out and two fingers put up on the other, forming a number 7 before bowing slightly.

The number had its meaning. It never forgot its boss' pseudonym: 2567.

This salutation that it created bore the meaning of its boss' pseudonym.

As for the number 6, it represented everyone who bowed and saluted.

The number 6 had the meaning of blessing.

This little trivial knowledge was from its boss, it had always been in awe about a simple number holding that much meaning.

The meaning that left an impression in its mind was 'smooth progress'.

Number 6 represented the blessing of smooth progress. It was hard for it to understand and thankfully it had no need to understand, all it needed to do was bear them in mind.

Now Bloody Mary felt very '6', it ought to tell others to call it '666' later as it was going to start performing.

Bishop Simon of Mist debut stage.

It wanted this moment to be carved into history and remembered for generations to come.

Therefore, when the silent elite temple warrior drew his sword, Bloody Mary kept smiling and did not show a bit of fear, neither would it step back.

Quite the contrary, it stepped up.

"Killing cannot solve every problem," said Bloody Mary.

Its voice was kind and soft but strong enough to be heard clearly by the others around it.

The temple warrior glanced over to his captain and after he got the permission, the temple warrior plunged the sword into Bloody Mary's chest.

Puk!

The blade was sharp. It cut flesh and bones like butter.

The whole sword went in deep, only the hilt was left outside.

At Bloody Mary's back, blood spewed and splashed all over the ground.

The civilians and merchants who were looking at the scene all screamed in shock.

The nobles at the top of the city walls showed a grin.

It started so fast?

Great!

This would be the first one! They would be next!

The nobles on the city walls glanced over the convoy from Sicar, they were anticipating a bloody river to flow shortly after.

Although the thoughts were shared between the nobles and the old marquis, the old marquis slightly frowned instead. He stared at Bloody Mary, or more precisely, the smile on Bloody Mary's face.

That kind of smile would never appear on a man who was dying.

At the next moment, the old marquis saw Bloody Mary grab the temple warrior's hand and pull the sword out of its chest. The furrowed brows on his aged face locked together tighter than before.

Undying ability? Or something similar?

As the highest rank in Edatine, second only to the king, the old marquis had been witness to many, MANY, mystical techniques.

Some were born with it, some were cultivated, and some were gotten through unholy means.

Regardless of which, none of them could perform their abilities as easily as Bloody Mary did.

Even the rumoured Hazy Shadow Shifting Moon of Silent Night Secret Society, which was crowned as the hardest technique to cultivate, could hardly be performed with such ease.

Hazy Shadow Shifting moon required time to be casted.

Could there be other kinds of techniques involved? The old marquis wondered, like the wise young temple warrior who just stabbed Bloody Mary.

As an elite warrior from War God Temple, the young warrior had acquired the title of deacon at a young age. He was able to carry out elimination missions along during normal times, the boldness and courage allowed him to recover from his initial surprise and calm down swiftly.

The young warrior chuckled coldly when Bloody Mary returned the sword to him by holding his hand.

This kind of method was met more than once during his pagan elimination missions.

He could not afford to panic!

He must stay calm and hold it together!

Panic would only cost him his calm judgment and the fear that followed would be the worst as it would blunt his sword and delay his thoughts and movements.

Therefore, right after Bloody Mary left go of his hand, the young warrior swung it around.

Puk!

It wasn't a forward stab this time, it was a slash!

The quick slash decapitated Bloody Mary. The head fell to the ground, followed by the body.

Hu!

The young warrior heaved a breath of relief.

He had seen undead monsters, so he knew the monsters' weaknesses.

The head was the most direct and obvious one. If he could decapitate the monster, any kind of undead would fall under his sword.

No exceptions!

He swung the sword to shake the bloody away. The young warrior ought to sheath his sword but right when he turned his sword around, the headless body recovered immediately and stood up like a normal person.

Its body was painted brown by the blood and dirt but the smile on his face was still warm.

The crowd in the surroundings instantly went wild.

Whether it was the civilians and merchants or the nobles on top of the city walls, every single one of them widened their eyes in utmost astonishment at the jaw-dropping scene.

Their widened mouths were blabbering nonsense.

If the first stab missed its target, they still could accept it as a mistake from the warrior but the second slash decapitated the bishop. The dead person, with the head cut off, stood up again, alive and kicking. The scene was hard for them to accept and comprehend.

Some civilians were terribly shocked and kneaded on the ground.

The merchants called their bodyguards forward and hid behind them.

The nobles exchanged looks before shifting their astonished gazes to the young warrior who backed away after being frightened.

As though he noticed the eyes from his surroundings, the horror on the young warrior's face swiftly changed into shame, regretting severely that he backed away, especially under this many pairs of eyes.

It was shameful!

The young warrior's breathing sharpened.

He twisted his wrist and performed another slash with his sword again.

Bloody Mary was once again decapitated.

This time, the young warrior did not stop after decapitating Bloody Mary, he swung his sword in a flurry at the flying head before he switched his target at the fallen, headless body.

A while later, Bloody Mary's body was sliced and diced into a pile of bloody meat.

Huhaa, huhaa.

Continuous rapid slashes were a little too much for the young warrior to handle despite the fact that he had trained for a long time. He panted heavily and loudly.

Everyone who watched the scene looked pale as paper.

Some of them even started to retch.

On the opposite, the nobles on the city walls became excited.

Their faces flushed and breaths sharpened, their hands and legs shuddered as though they were about to dance.

But right away, they were frozen like ducks seized by the neck, the excitement in their bodies dissipating, replaced by horror.

A white warm light shone, and from it, Bloody Mary reappeared.

It didn't just reappear, it came back refreshed.

The bloody stains on its body were all cleaned up.

Its long, slightly holistic robe bathed in the white light and the warm countenance on his face would arouse admiration from people's hearts.

Most of the civilians and merchants felt admiration, yet it did not include the young warrior who panted like a cow.

It looked at Bloody Mary in a dull state, more precisely at Bloody Mary's warm looks.

The warm looks on its face never changed from start to end.

The gaze, the smile, it remained warm, even for the young warrior who sliced and diced its body to smithereens, as if it was looking at its family or brothers and sisters.

"Are you fine?" asked Bloody Mary softly.

The question struck the young warrior's heart like a bolt of thunder.

His chest collapsed and expanded rapidly, his eyes showing confusion, at a loss for thoughts.

'Is this man the enemy? He is, but why does he treat me like his own family, even after I killed him over and over again? Is a kind person like him still the enemy?'

Confused thoughts popped up in the young warrior's heart.

"GINO!" A loud shout entered his ears.

The young warrior turned to the source of the shout, seeing his captain, the leader of this mission.

The middle-aged man was utterly strict during normal times and he was extra serious in times like this. His face looked like a sturdy rigid rock.

"PULL YOUR SWORD!" shouted the captain at the young warrior.

"Captain…"

"PULL YOUR SWORD!"

The young warrior intuitively wanted to say something but he was interrupted by the captain before he could do so.

The young man was at an utter loss. He had no idea what to do.

Then, Bloody Mary walked up to the young warrior. It lifted its hands and reached out to the young warrior, guiding his hand to his sword and… the sword swept over Bloody Mary's neck.

Puk!

Its head fell on the ground again.

The young warrior's hands turned limp right away, followed by the headless body falling down to the ground.

The young warrior was utterly stunned. He looked at the body in front of his eyes and his weak hands holding the sword shuddered uncontrollably.

Dang.

The sword fell out of his hands.