Chapter 177: I

One swing, one blow; a plump, fair-skinned woman swung her light staff, smashing the skulls of the soldiers before her like moles in a ground game—the scene was shockingly vivid.

For a moment, everyone present was stunned, including Katie: "I… I… I killed someone?"

Everyone was stunned, but the descending soul was not—it emerged from Katie's body as a shimmering light and charged toward the main target, swinging its scepter.

Someone who recognized it cried out: "A god! A soul warrior! Oh heavens, a soul has descended—run!"

With a shout, everyone who could run fled—including the countess, who was carried off by her female guards.

But once a soul has descended, how could you possibly escape? This soul was bound to Anthony's essence, and it acted with his nature—always eliminating threats completely.

The scepter struck the ground: "Thus saith the god: The burden of original sin is a heavy chain—binding!"—Original Sin Chains.

Seven chains erupted from the ground, binding the countess and her two guards to the street.

"Oh heavens, Original Sin Chains—divine punishment! Has the lady blasphemed?"

In a rush, everyone who could flee ran away.

The middle-aged woman went mad: Blasphemy? Divine punishment? Original Sin Chains?

I just bullied the lowborn, killed a few slaves, sold civilians into firepits, and scratched a few girls' faces—what's so wrong with that? The mayor never interferes. Would a god care? Is a god this bored?

The commotion clearly drew many eyes; even a soul had descended. Soon, mages began zipping in from all directions, and upon seeing the Original Sin Chains, they froze, landing swiftly—hiding on rooftops, crouching in corners, peering out cautiously.

Someone had also taken cover in the alley where Ang stood; upon spotting him, they casually asked: "How long have you been here? Do you know what happened?"

Ang didn't answer. The mage, rebuffed, rubbed his nose and leaned forward to look himself. Soon, another mage slipped in and asked the same: "How long have you been here? Do you know what happened?"

The first mage replied: "Just arrived. Don't know what happened yet, but it looks like Original Sin Chains—someone blasphemed, maybe."

"Blasphemed? Oh heavens, I know her—that's the widow of Count Du Luo, sister to the local Garrison Commander. She blasphemed? She's lost her mind!"

"Her? The 'Female Tyrant' countess? She's done too many evil deeds—blasphemy isn't surprising, but divine punishment? I've never seen it in my life."

"I heard Original Sin Chains appeared when Archbishop Nicolas was assassinated. It's not necessarily divine punishment—could just be a divine art."

"Whoa, look at that light—soul warrior! And it's wearing a bishop's robe! Oh heavens, only a Divine Favored of at least that rank could summon a soul this powerful?"

"Divine Favored? That sounds familiar—right, Archbishop Anthony was resurrected recently, and he's a Divine Favored too. It's been years since we had one, and now two appear in the same year?"

"Look, look—a beautiful woman has stepped out. She's glowing with holy radiance. Could the soul have been summoned by her? A Saintess?"

The two mages began chatting enthusiastically right across from Ang. Ang sighed, grabbed one of them, and tossed him to the other side—let them talk to each other.

Boom-boom-boom—the rhythmic tread of infantry marched into the street. The lead officer shouted: "Stop! No fighting within the city! Violators will be imprisoned!"

The middle-aged woman, seeing the troops, screamed desperately: "Brother! Brother! Save me! Save me! I just wanted a facial and skin treatment—these people broke my legs and tied me up! Help!"

The lead officer, outraged, shouted: "Damn it! Who dares defile the Church's honor by assaulting an innocent passerby and breaking her legs?"

By immediately labeling the opponent as "defiling the Church's honor" and "public assault," the officer proved himself experienced.

"It's her!" The middle-aged woman pointed at Katie with her finger—though bound tightly, only her fingers could move.

The officer glanced at Katie and breathed a sigh of relief—her face showed panic and confusion.

Not one of those Church veterans—this would be easy. Arrest her first, interrogate under torture, and extract the answers he needed.

Even if Katie was from the Church of Light, its clergy were a mixed lot—he'd arrested plenty of clerics before. Punish where deserved, convict where needed. Maybe the Church would even owe him a favor.

"Arrest everyone!" the officer bellowed. Behind him, soldiers raised their spears, formed two lines, and trotted forward in unison—the heavy footsteps echoed like drums on every heart.

At the doorway, the little angel dashed out. Seeing the approaching soldiers, its eyes lit up—it instantly spread its wings and thrust both hands forward.

Negril covered his face, unable to watch. He said to Ang: "This kid keeps forgetting its wings were ripped off. Go on—too many of them. The little thing can't handle this."

No sooner had he spoken than a blinding pillar of light flashed—behind the little angel, a pair of radiant wings unfurled, and with a forceful shove, a beam of light tore down the entire street, swallowing the advancing soldiers and their officer whole.

Negril stared, dumbfounded: "Oh heavens—it's the second pair of wings! This damn kid just used its radiant wings to trigger Holy Radiance?"

The little angel had long been a four-winged angel, but only the first pair of wings was physical; the second pair was radiant energy. Likely, even six-winged archangels possessed only one physical pair—the rest were energy forms.

The Holy Radiance triggered by the radiant wings did not annihilate matter—it burned. The beam passed, and the soldiers and officer it engulfed collapsed, their bodies steaming white, utterly devoid of life or soul.

Negril exclaimed in shock: "I get it now—why, even after losing its wings, the kid kept trying to unleash big attacks. It really could activate them through its radiant wings. Now this is trouble. But why does this Holy Radiance feel so much like Judgment?"

After unleashing the attack, the little angel felt light and carefree, dashing straight toward Ang's position.

"Quick, make it turn and run somewhere else—we'll meet it elsewhere," Negril said. He didn't want the two chattering mages nearby to notice their connection.

Zipping around, the little angel turned and soon vanished from the far end of the street.

Everyone was bewildered—what just happened?

The soul stepped slowly toward the countess bound by the Original Sin Chains, raising its scepter—when Katie called out: "Wait."

The soul halted. Katie sprinted over, murmuring: "I feel divine power flowing endlessly through me. I want to try something. Forgive me, madam."

She touched her fingertip to the middle-aged woman's face. A thin red light shot from her finger and pierced the woman's skin.

"Death's Finger? Doesn't look like it—too thin. Oh no, the countess is dead. Red light to the face—will pierce right through the skull." The two mages resumed chatting, then turned—only they remained in the alley. Ang was gone.

But to everyone's astonishment, the countess did not die. The red light drifted across her face, first erasing her age spots, then focusing on the crow's-feet at her eyes, then her under-eye bags, blackheads on her nose, and sagging cheek muscles.

After its journey, the countess looked at least thirty years younger—her spots, bags, and wrinkles vanished; even her loose skin tightened noticeably.

Katie pulled out a mirror and held it up: "How's that? Satisfied with the results?"

The countess stared at her radiant new reflection—both delighted and dazed. Wasn't this exactly what she wanted? Why hadn't they done this for her from the start? If they had, why would she have flown into a rage?

"I hadn't learned it yet," Katie sighed softly, then turned to the soul: "I'm better now."

The soul's face remained expressionless. It brought down its scepter, smashing the newly youthful face flat.

Then, still frozen in the act of striking, the soul dissolved into shimmering specks and vanished. Only Katie remained on the street.

The onlookers drew sharp breaths. A strange, eerie silence fell.

Soon, the Lord Mayor of Lorran arrived. After hearing the full report, he stared at the dead Garrison Commander, then at Katie, utterly torn.

He'd lost a commander—he couldn't brush this off. He sighed: "Arrest her."

"Who dares arrest our Holy Church's Saintess!" A booming voice echoed from afar.

The Lord Mayor of Lorran frowned: "Anthony? How did he get here so fast? This isn't his Eastern Diocese—how many eyes has he planted?"