Muxuan’s figure didn’t slow for an instant.
He transformed into a streak of light, flashing past the deathly still streets of the outpost, heading straight for the mage tower.
Yet the moment the mage tower’s silhouette appeared before “Muxuan,” his heart sank even deeper.
The tower was wrapped in even denser, thicker pure black pillars.
These black pillars were no longer the relatively orderly fence-like structures from the periphery—they twisted at nearly mad angles, interlaced and coiled around the tower’s body.
“Muxuan” frowned slightly, then reached for the black pillars again.
His hands passed through them just as before.
Next, he tried to enter the tower entirely.
Just like outside, his form passed through the pillars without any resistance, stepping inside.
The interior was a mess—and utterly empty.
“Muxuan’s” golden eyes swept over every corner, searching for Lutherch.
Nothing.
Not even a single guard who should have been stationed at the mage tower’s courtyard wall was there.
Lutherch was gone.
Nisangdo was gone.
Everyone had vanished without a trace.
Mosen had left to deal with the Southern Mine Vein…
But what about Lutherch?
And Nisangdo?
“Muxuan’s” thoughts raced, but even more chaotic, disordered ideas surfaced.
‘It can’t be… the moment I left the outpost, the entire Church got raided, could it?’
That absurd yet painfully real thought flashed through “Muxuan’s” mind.
Gelifende and Valentin were here too…
No matter what, it shouldn’t come to that.
He’d also given Gelifende a few Brightstones—enough to unleash several full-power strikes at the pinnacle of the Deep Sea Layer.
Even if they ran into some danger, there’s no way they’d…
Not to mention…
“Muxuan” quickly shook his head, then looked back at the black pillars, eyes thoughtful.
If the outpost is like this…
Then what about the base?
His heart sank.
After confirming there was no one to be found, he swiftly passed through layer after layer of black pillars, rushing toward the direction of the Church’s base.
When “Muxuan’s” form pierced through the eerie black pillar cage shrouding the outpost and rapidly returned to the Church base, the scene that met his eyes made his taut nerves suddenly relax.
The base was still intact.
The enormous pillar of light supported by countless nodes still radiated a soft yet steadfast glow, firmly isolating the thick, sticky Black Mist outside.
Inside the column of light, the church spire stood tall, and the figures of patrolling guards on the streets were clearly visible.
This order and tranquility formed a glaring contrast with the deathly black cage of the outpost.
“Thank goodness…”
“Muxuan” let out a relieved sigh, the heavy pressure seeming to ease slightly.
At least the base was fine.
But that brief comfort shattered the instant he was about to step under the edge of the base’s light barrier—shattered by a fiercely intense smell of blood.
Right in front of the base entrance, a rough, sharpened wooden stake was driven deep into the hard-trampled mud.
Impaled on the top of the stake was a head.
It was Gelifende!
His gray-white hair was matted with dried blood against his temples and the stake.
The severed neck was jagged, and dark red bloodstains trickled down the grain of the wood, pooling into a glaring black-red puddle at the bottom.
An indescribable aura of shock, fury, and overwhelming pressure exploded from “Muxuan.”
Several knights guarding the gate were forced to one knee by this sudden sacred pressure, their faces beneath their helmets instantly turning deathly pale, their bodies trembling uncontrollably.
“His… His Holiness…”
“Who?! Who did this?!”
“Muxuan’s” figure instantly appeared before the stake, his golden pupils now blazing with rage.
He slowly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over the kneeling knights, his voice ice-cold.
The leading knight captain, fighting against fear and a parched throat, spoke with almost all his strength, haltingly:
“His… His Holiness… it was Archbishop Beikeze…”
“Muxuan’s” brow furrowed sharply, a more dangerous light flickering in his golden eyes.
The knight captain felt an even more terrifying pressure and nearly buried his head in the ground, gritting his teeth to continue his explanation.
“Arch… Archbishop Beikeze said… that there were hidden dangers of Black Mist corruption lurking within the Church… and that they had to be thoroughly purged…”
“Commander Gelifende… he… he led the opposition, saying His Grace’s methods were too extreme… and would shake the Church’s foundation…”
“He incited… incited the knights to obstruct the purge… so Archbishop Beikeze charged him with ‘apostasy’ and ‘collaboration with corruption’…”
“He… executed him on the spot… and placed his head here as a warning to others…”
The knight’s voice grew quieter, finally turning into a hopeless sob.
He didn’t dare look at the Pope’s face, let alone imagine what would happen next.
“Muxuan” remained silent.
Beikeze…
Purge hidden dangers?
Setting that aside for now…
He clearly remembered that when he left, Beikeze had just condensed his Light Core and advanced to the Shallow Water Layer.
Gelifende had also condensed his Light Core and reached the Shallow Water Layer.
Even if Gelifende couldn’t defeat Beikeze, he still had the Brightstones Muxuan had given him.
And…
“Muxuan’s” train of thought halted as an absurd idea surged into his mind.
The state of the outpost…
Was it caused by Beikeze!?
He forcefully suppressed his raging fury, his voice extremely cold as he ordered the kneeling knight captain:
“Lead the way. Take me to wherever Beikeze is. Now!”
“Y-yes, Your Holiness!”
The knight captain’s voice trembled.
He struggled to his feet, dared not delay, and bent low to guide the way.
“Muxuan” followed closely behind.
His golden figure stirred a tense commotion as he passed through the base.
They didn’t go to the church, nor to Beikeze’s office.
The knight captain led “Muxuan” around the main buildings, arriving at a relatively secluded small clearing on the edge of the base.
In the center of the clearing, a newly erected stone tablet stood out starkly.
The tablet was pitch black, its material neither metal nor stone, emitting a cold, faint glow.
In front of the tablet, Beikeze stood with his back to “Muxuan,” slightly hunched.
He held a carving knife in his hand, focusing intently on engraving something into the stone’s surface.
His movements were slow and steady, each stroke carried a cruel solemnity.
What made “Muxuan’s” pupils contract even more were the objects standing on either side of the tablet.
On the left and right, a long sword was thrust deep into the ground.
The one on the left was pure white; the one on the right was pure black.
The two swords stood silently.
The light of the white sword and the devouring nature of the black sword formed an eerie balance, yet they also repelled and attracted each other.
An indescribable aura spread out from the twin swords at their core, causing even “Muxuan” to feel a faint, ominous throb in his heart.
“Muxuan’s” terrifying pressure instantly locked onto Beikeze.
The knight captain had already collapsed to the side, unable to bear it.
“Beikeze!”
“Muxuan’s” voice was heavy, as if the air itself had solidified.
“Tell me, what exactly are you doing?!”
The carving knife made its final stroke on the stone, producing a harsh scraping sound.
Beikeze froze.
He didn’t turn around immediately.
First, he straightened his back with great difficulty.
His silhouette looked unusually exhausted.
The black line on his right arm was still visible beneath his robe, pulsing faintly.
Then, he slowly turned around.
Beikeze’s face was even paler and more haggard than when “Muxuan” had left.
His eyes were sunken, his lips purple and cracked.
Only his eyes burned with a madness and obsession that bordered on martyrdom.
Facing “Muxuan’s” interrogation, there was no fear on Beikeze’s face.
Only a chilling calm.
He even forced a very faint, very bitter smile at the corners of his mouth.
“Your Holiness.”
Beikeze’s voice was hoarse but rang out unusually clearly.
“You’re back.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
He met “Muxuan’s” golden eyes and said, word by word:
“Relying solely on the restraint of faith is not enough.”
He paused, his eyes sweeping over the black and white swords, over this new black stone tablet, and finally settling back on “Muxuan’s” face.
“There must also be judgment.”
He raised a hand, gently stroking the cover of the Sacred Canon, then pointed at the tablet and the twin swords.
“Now, judgment is established. I have laid a solid foundation for the Church.”
He spoke slowly, each word carrying heavy weight.
Finally, his bloodshot yet exceptionally bright eyes gazed deeply at “Muxuan,” as if trying to engrave the Pope’s figure into his soul.
“Your Holiness… you will understand the meaning of what I’ve done.”
As his voice fell, Beikeze’s body swayed slightly, as if the last bit of strength supporting him had been drained.
The moment Beikeze collapsed, Muxuan of the Watkan Tribe suddenly opened her eyes, her tense face carrying a complex expression.
“What’s wrong, Your Highness?”
Beside her, Qiansitelin spoke, a hint of worry in her eyes.