Seeing the enemy’s attack, Elderidge decided not to pretend anymore.

A mass of black sludge shot towards Gwyndolin like a taut snake rapidly extending.

The giant with a broken leg lunged sideways, trying to use his broad frame to block Elderidge’s shot.

But the black sludge was Elderidge’s body, which he controlled with ease and agility.

With no intention of wasting strength on a tasteless giant, Elderidge’s black sludge limbs traced an arc, biting towards Gwyndolin.

The Shadow Sun’s spirit had already scattered under prolonged tension.

Until the very last moment, he hurriedly cast magic again to teleport himself away.

But ultimately, he couldn’t completely escape, and one more snake limb got severed by his own decisive action.

The snake limb was swept into Elderidge’s body, savoring the flesh and soul of the Divine Race.

But as the snake limb was consumed, Gwyndolin’s emotions and thoughts were also transmitted into Elderidge’s consciousness.

The emotions were resolute and unwavering.

I am the King of the Sun, the youngest son of Great King Gwyn, the successor of the Divine Race.

I shall never beg for mercy, nor wail, nor tremble!

Thus Elderidge understood – it seemed this crucial moment of feeding would probably have no pleasure.

So knowing the ’feeding concept’ could not be fulfilled, the Profound Saint had no mood to linger.

-----------------

Shalivan personally arrived in front of the mansion that had recently cost him an entire squad of Undead Knights and a Witch.

This place was once the residence of the Shadow Sun in Ilyushil, later serving as the temporary dwelling of Princess You’Er Xia, acting captain of the Dark Moon Sword Knight Order.

Shalivan fondled the seven or eight precious bracelets and ornaments on his wrist, under the pope’s crown, his deep and peculiar eyes playfully regarded the Silver Knights maintaining a simple defensive line outside the mansion.

And there was Smough, the Divine Race Executioner as their leader.

Shalivan had witnessed the Sin Flame in his early years, and from that moment, the unquenchable fire of ambition ignited in this young mage’s heart.

The existence of ambition is for the enjoyment after success.

Shalivan now thoroughly enjoyed it.

With Gwyndolin’s safety as leverage, Ilyushil and all the wealth and knowledge of the Divine Race were in his grasp.

People say, beginning to enjoy means one will become weak.

But Shalivan did not agree.

Material enjoyment was only seasoning he added to the process of life.

His fire of ambition had never extinguished, nor weakened even a bit. How could mere gold and jewels satisfy?

Now, it was already the closing phase of the plan.

This time, whether it was Shalivan or Smough, they knew this would be their last meeting.

Because even the one Shalivan needed to watch out for, You’Er Xia, had already left this mansion.

Only a bunch of inconsequential Knights were left.

The Pope did not intend to leave these stumbling blocks in front of him as eye-sores.

Originally, he intended to coerce You’Er Xia to step outside the defensive line and then imprison her in the Tower of Prisoners.

Then he planned to muster strength to gradually eliminate those loyal under the Divine Race’s command. Once the battle went unfavorable, he could use her as a hostage to force the loyalists to yield.

That way he could easily stay undefeated.

Once the loyalists were slaughtered, the Divine Race hostage would be useless.

But unexpectedly, the half-dragon girl, who knew nothing, had the decisiveness to run away in one breath.

But it’s nothing...

"Hah~"

A breath-like wheeze came from the foot of Pope Shalivan.

Alongside the wheezing, snowflakes that were already scantily drifting from the night sky accumulated a thin layer of snow on Ilyushil’s ground, instantly freezing with a layer of ice shell.

They were several towering figures, although slim, moving on all fours like beasts.

In their fully-enclosed helmets’ slits, their eyes emitted ice-blue light.

The cold air with snowflakes leaked out from the gaps in their armor as they moved.

Compared with the Undead Knights used as mere pawns, these were Shalivan’s masterpieces.

The Pope’s Warrior Knights.

Originally strong Knights of the Dark Moon Sword Knight Order, but Shalivan would previously give them rings imbued with power he had researched.

The rings embedded with eyes condensed from power.

After gazing into the black eyes, one becomes emotionally heightened, with a ravenous desire for desperate battle, finally degrading into beast-like berserkers.

Silently, a portion of the Dark Moon Sword Knights had already been eroded.

Becoming loyal mad dogs serving the Pope.

Besides these still humanoid, armored Pope’s Warrior Knights.

Shalivan’s ranks also included monstrous creatures about the size of Fierce Jackal Dragons.

Such monsters resembled crocodiles, but with their chest and abdomen blatantly opened, exposing the entire chest and abdominal cavity.

And their ribs flipped outward, unprotected organs but instead became jagged bone spikes to harm enemies.

This was also Shalivan’s creation, while Ausloes liked to oppress mages, Shalivan enjoyed transforming holy creatures into this form.

Such monsters, after taking heavy blows, instinctively clasping hands as if praying, always made him laugh as if watching a farce.

"Since Princess You’Er Xia has disappeared, I must apprehend you to administer justice, Lord Smough."

Even at the last moment, Shalivan must position himself as possessing ’righteousness.’

While opposite him, Smough merely responded with a cold snort inside his helmet, lifting his hammer the size of a water tank.

Shalivan wished to resolve these unsettling factors at once, so he prepared to enter the fight himself.

He readied two longswords, which in his hands were considered relatively long hand-and-a-half swords.

But if you scale it down to a normal person, it’s basically a greatsword or an even larger sword.

As the youngest and most accomplished renowned Mage, Shalivan has full confidence in his combat abilities.

Just now in the reservoir, he effortlessly took down Archbishop MacDonald.

If not for the fact that the two archbishops brought too few clergy, Shalivan wouldn’t have needed to act personally; the remodeled Divine Beasts could have torn MacDonald apart alive.

The battle erupted in an instant.

The Silver Knights, with dulled senses, upon detecting the enemy’s approach, took up their great bows, taller than themselves, at the appropriate range.

The bowstrings were strung with arrows thick enough to serve as short spears for ordinary people.

The Dragon-Hunting Great Bow and Dragon-Hunting Arrows, in the hands of these powerful knights, were like bed crossbows!

The twang of the bowstrings shook the air!

"Pffft!"

With just one volley, dozens of Dragon-Hunting Arrows pierced through the formation of Undead Knights like threading sugar-coated haws!

After impaling several enemies, they still had enough momentum to plunge into Ilyushil’s brick-paved ground, embedding themselves!

But the Undead Knights were merely Shalivan’s fodder troops.

The beast-like berserk Warrior Knights snarled cold white frost as they charged across the ground towards the Silver Knights’ formation!

Simo swung his mace, sending a Warrior Knight flying, even as the Warrior Knight held an Ilyushil Straight Sword that Gwendolin had personally issued back in the day.

The blade of that straight sword was composed entirely of magic-infused frost, adorned with elegant patterns, and shook down snowflakes of frozen moisture due to its low temperature.

A testament to an excellent Knight.

And now Shalivan has them still using these weapons, undoubtedly a form of mockery.

And Simo’s temper grew increasingly intense under such mockery.

His strength was indeed peerless, even among these Divine Era Knights.

But his bulk made him clumsy, most of the time, after smashing a Warrior Knight away, he couldn’t keep up to deliver a finishing blow to kill them on the spot.

Immediately, more and more agile Warrior Knights would swarm him.

The cold from those frozen weapons was Cold Valley magic.

It could gather frost on the enemy’s armor and body; at first, there was no sensation.

Only until the frost unknowingly weakened the armor and flesh, then one strike would be enough to shatter a piece!

Simo was well aware of the lethality of these frosts and could feel the magic frost accumulating rapidly on his armor and body with the tight assault of the Warrior Knights.

Perhaps the next strike... at most, after enduring seven or eight blows... his armor would be frozen to the point of breaking!

And his flesh would fare worse without the armor.

But Simo was already weary and didn’t want to worry about such things anymore!

As the executioner serving the Divine Race, he had served them for tens of thousands of years. Now that the Divine Race faced annihilation, he never expected to survive!

"Ha!"

He planted his massive mace on the ground, as a burst of white phantom exploded from his body.

This was Simo’s battle technique.

After unleashing the [Battle Technique: Endurance], Simo immediately appeared more valiant and unstoppable.

But this was just an illusion of temporary empowerment; Simo’s mobility was too poor, he wasn’t weak, but he was incompatible with this battlefield environment.

If in the past, when the Divine Race’s arms were ample, he could have found a suitable battlefield, and even the Divine Race’s army could construct a field specifically for this powerhouse.

But now, the Divine Race has long been in decline.

Simo struggled and fought, hoping to use his last strength to approach Shalivan, standing behind the formations.

But judging by the frequency of attacks he was currently under and his movement speed, he was most likely to die en route.

Blood gushed from the cracks in his frozen armor, congealing into a layer of red frost.

Yet Simo continued to fight tirelessly.

"Fight me! Come and fight me!"

He shouted at Shalivan.

But all he got was a calm, indifferent glance from the other side.

The defense line was being dismantled.

The lightning on the Silver Knights’ swords was fading, and the frost on their armor was spreading.

Many enemies crowded around the Silver Knights, and more enemies thrust their frost-laden weapons through the gaps.

Perhaps... this Fire Age established by the Great King G Wen is really coming to an end?

Simo pondered in his already somewhat confused mind.

Frostbite, skin shattering, cuts, hammer blows... such frequent attacks had greatly drained his Power of Soul.

However, a familiar sound of crackling thunder, almost considered an illusion by Simo, echoed in his ears.

And standing not far away, admiring Simo’s final charge, was Shalivan.

A massive shadow was spreading over his body.

"Fizzle~"

It was an exquisitely deadly lance, one that had even pierced through an Ancient Dragon’s scales!

The Dragon-Hunting Lance descending from above was far stronger than the Dragon-Hunting Great Bows of the Silver Knights!

"Bang!"

Just by stabbing into the ground, the surface seemed to turn into waves, lifting earth and stone.

The dust was shaken up, interspersed with golden lightning!

When the dust cleared, a knight clad in Golden Lion armor stood beside the lance embedded in the ground.

Then, many white Soul Bodies descended alongside!

They silently gazed at the minions of the Pope, and Pope Shalivan himself.