"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!"

A group of twelve Combat Cultivators, carrying warhammers, flails, and revolvers at their waists, and wearing Monk’s Robes embroidered with a "T"-shaped cross, lifted a heavy box, chanting in unison as they slowly approached.

These Combat Cultivators were of large stature, their muscles causing their robes to bulge. They belonged to the Franciscan Order, also known as the Brotherhood, pursuing asceticism, simplicity, often participating in charity and disaster relief activities, and standing out among the various monasteries in Mexico.

Their footprints were deeply embedded in the dry, hard wasteland, each step kicking up dust, evident of the heavy contents inside the iron box they carried.

Archbishop Michael pressed one hand atop the box, praying fervently.

President Porfirio wished to hasten things but, upon seeing the pious expressions of the knights and monks, stifled the impatience swelling within him.

Inside the iron box was a relic left by Saint Juan of the Franciscan Order—a black obsidian sword.

This artifact was originally left by the last Aztec Emperor "Guatamuz," also the most powerful Jaguar Warrior of the Aztecs at the time. Many monks and Holy Knights died at the hands of Spaniards trying to kill this last monarch.

The obsidian sword left behind, having been sanctified over countless years, became a Holy Artifact, similar to the legendary Holy Spear wielded by the Knight of Radiance, albeit on a notably lower tier.

The old pantheon of the New Continent was not much more advanced than the old African civilizations, just larger in scale, incomparable to the Northern European pantheon or the Greek-Roman pantheon, not to mention Jeanne’s Holy Spear as the relic of God King Odin of Northern Europe.

Even among the Aztec pantheon, the relics of the five Sun Gods pale in comparison.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee."

"Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus."

"Holy Mother Mary, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death to the Heavenly Father!"

The knights sang hymns of the Hail Mary in unison, and accompanying their singing, a grand bell toll emanated from an unknown location. Numerous winged figures composed of illusory Holy Flame began singing the "Hail Mary" in chorus.

The dazzling Holy radiance wreathed around them like smoke, forming an image reminiscent of a Statue of the Virgin with Latin features.

Countless Mexican soldiers dropped their weapons and knelt to pray devoutly.

Golden radiance turned into raindrops, falling upon the wounded, where many limbs were burned to charcoal. The severely injured wailing in despair saw their parched skin crack open, revealing layers of newly grown, fresh red flesh.

"Praise the Heavenly Father, praise the Holy Mother!"

The patron Saint of the Mexican region is Our Lady of Guadalupe, an apparition of Holy Mother Mary. It was the inspiration of the Holy Mother’s miracle that led many Indians, who originally held steadfast to their old beliefs, to embrace Catholicism.

Saint Juan was the first clergy member to witness the apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe firsthand, and only such a Saint could subdue the Aztec Holy Objects filled with primal hues.

The brilliant golden radiance made many Texas Rangers feel a burning sensation on their skin.

Compared to the radiance Jeanne emitted in her "Holy Body" state, the spectacle conjured by the Mexican Church was quite inferior, but still posed a formidable power that was hard to withstand for most members of the Wolf Race.

Losa observed the scene, feeling a sense of temporal confusion, as though returning to the Middle Ages.

Mexico is a nation rich with echoes of the Medieval World, where church estates crisscross the lands, local warlords carve out their dominions. Not republican, overthrowing the "tyrant" doesn’t mean modernization.

If that were true, ancient Rome would surely be the most modern nation.

Baron Charlie shielded his eyes with his hand, peering through the gaps at the dazzling Holy radiance: "The enemy also possesses Holy Objects!"

"Fellows, those heretics have stolen divine favor from somewhere. Let these guys witness our devotion!"

Voices rose from below, thousands of cavaliers from the Medieval World, shouting in unison as they underwent their trial: "In the name of God, in the name of Saint Losa!"

"Heaven bless our King, may his majesty flourish. May the nation’s fortune endure, brimming with auspiciousness. May his imperial enterprise be everlasting, shining with splendor in all things."

The cavaliers sang in unison a song adapted by Losa based on the anthem "Franz, Heaven bless our Emperor," their expressions fervent, the power of faith brought by the nation’s admiration flowing like gentle streams toward Losa.

At the same time, Archbishop Michael opened the steel box, taking out a primitive obsidian sword from within—a weapon with a wooden hilt and blade as its foundation, upon which were wedged rows of dense obsidian serrations.

Even bathed in Holy radiance, it exuded an aura of ominous, murderous energy.

After the Archbishop personally grasped the sword, his entire presence became heavier, and the white vestment robe instantly transformed into red, symbolizing the "Descent of the Holy Spirit," though the red robe of the bishop bore an undeniably sinister feeling.

The Archbishop slowly raised his head, the Holy radiance overflowing within suppressed his personal will almost to the point of disappearing, leaving only the unwavering heart of "Exorcism and Defense of the Dao."

"Prepare to die, Demon Dragon!"

He raised the obsidian sword high, and with a casual slash, the Holy radiance permeating the air converged upon the sword’s blade like a giant whale drinking water.

The Three-headed Demon Dragon cried out in terror: "Boss, this guy is no joke. If you don’t step in, I’m bolting!"

"That’s right, Boss. With our current strength, we’re nothing but fodder here."

Boom—

Terrifying Holy radiance surged like a massive sword towards the Demon Dragon in the sky.

The Archbishop slowly turned his head, seemingly unconcerned with the possibility of the Demon Dragon surviving a single strike from him, focusing instead on the true adversary in his mind—the one who effortlessly dispatched the evil faction of the Necromancy Sect, the wicked Guderian.

Prajna, observing the scene, was not particularly tense. The suppressive effect of Holy radiance was quite apparent to her, that single strike, even she might not withstand, yet for the current Losa, it seemed not to pose much of a threat.

Just heard a bang—

The golden sword blade, like a delicate porcelain, shattered with a crash. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Prajna, observing the scene, was not particularly tense. The suppressive effect of Holy radiance was quite apparent to her, that single strike, even she might not withstand, yet for the current Losa, it seemed not to pose much of a threat.

Just heard a bang—

The golden sword blade, like a delicate porcelain, shattered with a crash.

Prajna, observing the scene, was not particularly tense. The suppressive effect of Holy radiance was quite apparent to her, that single strike, even she might not withstand, yet for the current Losa, it seemed not to pose much of a threat.

Just heard a bang—

The golden sword blade, like a delicate porcelain, shattered with a crash.