Chapter 244: Vanguard of the Sky

High above the jagged, snow-dusted ridges of the Northern Hashian Mountains, the sky was painted in shades of bruised purple and pale ash.

Hovering silently in the frigid air, draped in a heavy, flowing crimson cloak that billowed against the mountain winds, stood Cardinal Ryoger.

He was an elderly man whose stern, weathered facial features fit someone in his late seventies.

Deep, carved wrinkles lined his forehead and framed his thin, stern lips, while his long, snow-white hair was pulled tightly behind his head.

Yet, despite his aged appearance, his spine was as straight as an iron spear, and his hands were folded neatly behind his back with absolute, motionless composure.

His eyes—piercing, ice-blue orbs—radiated the unyielding, terrifying authority of a bonafide Martial Saint.

Suspended behind him was a fleet of dozen massive, golden sky-vessels, their sails catching the wind, but the true terror lay on the earth below.

Marching across the narrow mountain passes, passing through burned-out villages and the silent, desolate ruins of fallen cities, was a terrifying army of three thousand Holy Paladins.

The ground trembled under the rhythmic, synchronized thunder of three thousand pairs of heavy steel boots.

The paladins were clad in immaculate, silver-and-gold plate armor that glinted coldly in the dim light.

They carried colossal tower shields, long holy spears, and heavy broadswords, their faces concealed behind full-visored helmets.

Their eyes, visible only through narrow helmet slits, burned with an unholy, fanatical bloodlust and absolute eagerness for slaughter.

They did not march as men; they marched as an unstoppable, iron wall of divine retribution, ready to go all out and erase every soul accused of heresy.

The composition of this holy legion was staggering.

The vast majority—over two thousand four hundred soldiers—were formidable Martial Warriors, forming the impenetrable vanguard.

Among them marched five hundred hardened vanguard commanders who had successfully broken through to the Martial Master realm.

Higher up in the formation rode fifty senior captains, their bodies clad in enchanted crimson armor, radiating the distinct, crushing pressure of the Martial General realm.

Most terrifying of all were the ten elite figures flying in a tight, protective V-formation directly behind Cardinal Ryoger.

These ten men wore the opulent, high-ranking holy robes of High Priests—identical in status, authority, and power to the late High Priest Arnold.

Each of these ten individuals was a genuine Martial Lord, standing at the absolute summit of mortal power.

Ten Martial Lords marching under the supreme command of a Martial Saint Cardinal represented a force capable of flattening entire nations overnight.

Cardinal Ryoger, a proud and dignified servant of the Sky God, looked down at his army with cold, quiet approval.

He had arrived at the Northern Hashian Mountains to personally oversee the complete, bloody eradication of the Church of the God of Beast.

SWISH!

Suddenly, Cardinal Ryoger raised his right hand, his crimson sleeve cutting through the freezing wind.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

In an instant, the entire marching column of three thousand Paladins froze dead in their tracks.

Shields slammed into the mountain bedrock, spears were raised at a rigid forty-five-degree angle, and the ten Martial Lord High Priests drew their ceremonial staves in perfect, terrifying synchronization.

Cardinal Ryoger’s thick, white eyebrows furrowed sharply into a deep V.

His piercing ice-blue eyes locked onto the distant, cloud-covered peak a few miles ahead.

“Prepare for battle!” Cardinal Ryoger’s voice boomed across the sky, laced with Martial Saint mana that shook the loose snow off the surrounding mountain cliffs.

“An anomaly approaches!”

The ten High Priests instantly flared their spiritual mana, forming a massive, interlocking holy barrier over the three thousand soldiers below.

As a bonafide Martial Saint, Cardinal Ryoger stood near the absolute apex of the cultivator society.

He had fought in dozens of mortal wars, survived ancient realm trials, and slaughtered high-tier demonic beasts.

Yet, as the unseen presence hurtled toward them from the distant peak, a cold, unfamiliar prickle of sweat broke out at the base of Ryoger’s neck.

The closer the approaching entity got, the more intense and suffocating the atmosphere became.

The air grew viscous, smelling faintly of superheated ozone and burning copper.

The spiritual pressure rolling across the sky was not the familiar mana of a high-tier cultivator—it was an ancient, ruthless, and alien power that fundamentally did not belong to this mortal world.

BOOM!

Without a single sound of spatial tearing, space itself simply folded, and a solitary figure materialized directly out of thin air, hovering less than fifty paces in front of Cardinal Ryoger.

The sudden arrival sent a violent shockwave through the entire Holy Fleet.

Several younger Martial General captains gasped in horror, while the three thousand paladins instinctively raised their heavy shields, their bloodlust temporarily eclipsed by sheer, primal shock.

The entity standing before them was wearing the distinct, white-and-gold holy cloak belonging exclusively to High Priest Arnold.

Furthermore, the long, fiery crimson hair cascading down the figure’s back was unmistakably Arnold’s hair.

Yet, any resemblance to High Priest Arnold ended there.

The entity was shirtless beneath the open cloak, revealing a hyper-muscular torso covered in glowing, pulsating veins of violet light.

His human features had completely collapsed inward, replaced by a smooth, terrifying expanse of pale flesh.

And right in the center of his face sat a single, colossal cyclopean eye, burning with a predatory, radiant orange light that locked onto Cardinal Ryoger with inhuman detachment.

Mauresis was the first to break the suffocating silence.

His mutated, mouthless face vibrated as a deep, booming, multi-layered voice echoed directly inside the skulls of every soldier present, sounding like rushing oceans and falling mountains.

“Welcome…” Mauresis spoke smoothly, his single orange eye blinking slowly. “…servants of the Sky God. You have finally arrived in the Northern Hashian Mountains.”

Cardinal Ryoger’s face darkened instantly.

His ice-blue eyes narrowed into razor-thin slits as he felt the cosmic, non-mortal pressure emanating from the one-eyed monstrosity.

His hand tightened into a white-knuckled fist beneath his crimson cloak.

“Who are you?!” Cardinal Ryoger demanded, his voice ringing out like a thunderclap across the mountain pass as he pointed an iron finger at the entity.

“And why are you wearing the holy cloak of High Priest Arnold—a sacred garment of the Holy Church of the Sky?! What have you done with the High Priest, monstrosity?!”