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This was the night that Holy Envoy Roel became the ‘Light of Salvation’ to the worshipers of the Mother Goddess.

He was the savior, the grace the Mother Goddess had bestowed upon Her cornered children. He was the executioner, judging those who dared to blaspheme the Mother Goddess.

The fearless disciples of the Saints Convocation had gone completely red-eyed as they embarked on an unbelievable all-out retaliation. Their fanatic charge tore the black-armored soldiers and black-robed figures apart. Ferocious war cries shook the entire city.

Standing by Roel’s side were the strongest elites amongst the disciples. They had declared themselves his personal guards, vowing to protect the venerable Holy Envoy with their lives.

Even Bradley had stepped on top of a humongous human-scorpion puppet to lead the charge at the very forefront. He knew that this was his very last chance.

“The Mother Goddess is looking upon me!”

The fanatic disciples roared in delirium as they charged in without any regard for their lives, mercilessly shredding the Salvation Brotherhood’s defense line apart. Sensing that things were going awry, the members of the Brotherhood quickly called for reinforcement, but it didn’t make a difference.



“Bloody banshees! What the hell is going on here? Are those dogs of the Mother Goddess out of their bloody minds?”

In the headquarters of the Salvation Brotherhood, Bishop Sartoni listened to his subordinate’s report in utter bewilderment, not comprehending how such a thing could have happened.

It was just earlier in the day that those from the Saints Convocation were looking completely despondent, acting as if it was already the end of them. Many thought that their morale would collapse the moment they were forced to face the monsters at night, but they suddenly fought back fiercely as if they were high on drugs.

How in the world was this even happening?

“What about our Salvation Legion? How did they overcome the lockdown of our Salvation Legion?” roared Sartoni angrily.

It was beyond his imagination that the Saints Convocation could possibly overcome the black-armored soldiers and black-robed figures. The disciples also frowned upon hearing his question.

“Based on what we heard, it seems like the Holy Envoy of the Saints Convocation has arrived on the battlefield, and he granted them the blessing of the Mother Goddess…”

“Bullshit! We’ve already killed their Holy Envoy, so how could there possibly be another one?” Sartoni interrupted his subordinate furiously.

In the end, he decided to head there in person and check out the situation.

However, the closer he got to the battlefield, the more awful his complexion became. He could hear impassioned battle cries, explosions, and screams of agony coming from in front of him—evidence that the enemies were fighting back hard.

He quickly scaled onto a vantage point to gain an overview of the battlefield. He noticed a huge crowd

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