Chapter 241: Heresy must burn

The serene, bioluminescent air of the Prismatic Forest hung still, the soft pink and turquoise glow of the ancient foliage casting long shadows across the assembled commanders.

Roy’s revelation echoed through the multicolored woods, settling like a heavy, suffocating iron weight over the hearts of the four beast leaders.

Duchess Alisa stepped forward, her dark robes brushing against the shimmering moss floor.

Her sharp, analytical eyes locked onto Roy, searching his calm expression for any trace of hesitation.

“What is an Angel?” Alisa asked, her voice quiet, crisp, and cutting through the silent forest.

Roy stood beneath the sprawling canopy of an indigo oak, his long golden hair cascading past his waist and catching the ambient, crystalline light of the southern realm.

He inhaled deeply, the cool night air filling his lungs before he slowly released a heavy breath.

“It is far too early for any of you to comprehend the full nature of the beings known as Angels,” Roy answered smoothly, his voice carrying a calm, ancient authority that brooked no argument.

“The God of Beast has not granted me permission to expose such deep, celestial secrets to mortal ears just yet. For now, all you need to know is this: Angels are the direct, highest-ranking servants of the true gods residing in the upper heavens.

They are forged directly from divine authority, and their power far surpasses the boundaries of mortal cultivation.”

Grand Chancellor Manuses stepped forward, his boots crushing the soft glowing moss underfoot.

He rubbed his thick, clawed hands together, his golden eyes narrowing as he remembered the oppressive, unyielding heat of the purple-gold light that had nearly incinerated him back in the northern pavilion.

“If these Angels are truly that strong…” Manuses grunted, his voice low and serious as he looked at Roy, “then how in the heavens are we supposed to bring one down? Even with our realm as Martial Saints, our attacks barely left a scratch on that vessel.”

Roy’s lips curled into a faint, graceful smile.

He placed his hands casually into his sleeves, his dark eyes sparkling with supreme confidence.

“You need not worry about that, Manuses,” Roy replied, his tone as light as a breeze.

“I will be the one hunting the Angel. It is my duty to handle the divine interference from the upper plane. None of you will be required to face that creature again. Your focus must remain entirely on what is most important for our church.”

Duchess Eurenia folded her arms across her chest, her silver rapier humming softly at her hip.

She tilted her head slightly, her sharp brow furrowing as she eyed the Apostle.

“And what is that?” Eurenia asked, her voice laced with intense curiosity.

Roy turned his body slowly, slightly tilting his head toward the horizon.

His gaze pierced through the multicolored canopy of the Prismatic Forest, staring directly toward the distant, majestic peaks of the Southern Hashian Mountains.

The very heartland ruled by the Emerald Purity Sect.

“Our goal is simple,” Roy declared, his voice dropping into a chilling, hypnotic cadence.

“Let the mortals tear each other apart. Let humans wage war against themselves.”

He looked back at his four dedicated followers, his golden hair shifting around his shoulders.

“The Sky Church has revealed its hideous, tyrannical hand to the mortal world. The Glorious Mythical Sect is in total disarray, and panic will spread across the northern territories like wildfire.

While the little sects bleed, doubt their faith, and take up arms against one another, we shall quietly expand our roots in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to claim the ashes.”

Pope Croak bowed his head deeply, his reptilian eyes burning with fanatical understanding, while Manuses let out a dark, satisfied chuckle.

The path forward had been drawn, and the stage was set for the complete destabilization of the mortal realm.

***

Back in the Northern Hashian Mountains — Oscros City.

While peace settled over the southern forests, the northern province had been transformed into a living hell.

High above the central plaza of Oscros City—one of the largest, most prosperous trade hubs under the jurisdiction of the Sky Church’s regional diocese.

A lone figure stood suspended in the midnight sky.

It was Mauresis, the Angel of Dawn, still occupying the mutated, hyper-muscular frame of the High Priest.

“Ah yes….this is beautiful” Mauresis exhaled a soft chuckle with his arm’s stretched forward.

Below him, the entire city of Oscros was burning in a apocalyptic tempest of violent, violet-gold solar fire.

The majestic stone archways, sprawling market districts, and high-walled residential estates were being systematically devoured by superheated plasma.

The intense, unholy heat radiated for miles, melting the marble foundations into bubbling pools of white-hot liquid glass and causing the very air above the city to warp and buckle violently.

The streets below were no longer paths for trade—they were wide, horrific rivers bathed in thick, boiling blood and choked with heaps of charred, disfigured corpses.

In his unyielding, psychotic obsession to flush out the hidden followers of the God of Beast, Mauresis had declared the entire population of Oscros City as a den of heretics.

Driven by the divine urge to purge any potential threat to the Sky God’s authority, he had unleashed his full, uninhibited wrath upon the innocent populace.

Thousands of citizens, merchant guilds, local cultivators, and children had been cornered in the central squares as towering walls of solar fire collapsed inward upon them.

Pyres of stacked, blackened bodies burned on every corner, their horrifying screams silenced into ash.

The air was sickened by the heavy, suffocating stench of roasted flesh, copper, and ozone, while thick columns of black smoke rose into the sky, blotching out the pale light of the moon.

Mauresis had plunged the entire metropolis into total, absolute despair in less than an hour.

Yet, as the city bellowed its final, agonizing death rattles, Mauresis remained floating calmly in the sky with his arms folded neatly behind his back.

“This is truly the greatest of the Sky”

Mauresis voice reverberated through the air.

A gentle, serene, and almost angelic smile was written across his mutated lips.

His single, massive orange eye widened in pure, unadulterated excitement as it reflected the frantic, chaotic inferno raging below.

The destruction of mortal lives meant nothing to him; to an Angel forged from the origin essence of the Dawn God, mortal souls were merely insignificant ants to be swept away for the grander design of the heavens.

“Burn….” Mauresis whispered softly into the scorching wind, his voice echoing with a multi-layered, divine resonance. “Burn away the impurities… bleed out the darkness. Run as far as you like, heretics… my light will find every last one of you.”

He threw his head back and let out a soft, melodic laugh that vibrated across the burning ruins, entirely unbothered by the catastrophic sea of blood he had created.