Chapter 248: The God Said! Plant the Land

Anthony screamed for help while swinging his staff to smash the head of a Holy Angel, the forceful blow instantly knocking the towering, 1. -meter-tall Holy Angel to the ground, its face caved in deeply.

The staff's tail flicked upward to block another Holy Angel's slash, then the head dipped down to strike the shinbone, sending it off-balance.

Anthony shouted, "My lord, save me!" and shoved his shoulder into the Holy Angel's chest, sending it flying away.

The surrounding humans still had no idea what was happening—they didn't understand why the Holy Angels had suddenly gone mad or why they were attacking the Archbishop, leaving them bewildered and unsure whom to aid.

This was a routine walking prayer event: devout believers walked the streets, holding candles or sacred light, moving slowly while chanting the praises of the gods.

It was the Church of Light's regular harvest of Faith Energy, organized periodically to strengthen collective participation and deepen believers' devotion.

This activity differed fundamentally from those exploitative "Miracle Gatherings," so Anthony had inherited it well.

He hadn't expected that halfway through the event, just after arriving at the venue under the escort of twelve First-Rank Fake Angels, before he could even speak (or pretend to), he suddenly sensed danger and deftly blocked the First-Rank Angel's attack.

Those nearby were stunned by Ang's reaction—what the hell? How could the Archbishop be this skilled in martial arts?

But the Holy Angels who had just been guarding him had suddenly turned on him—something inexplicable had occurred. Given his cautious nature, he immediately called for help.

Ang reacted swiftly, immediately projecting Anthony's Soul into him.

A powerful, overwhelming force surged into Anthony's body; holy light shimmered across his skin, and the spectral image of a solemn Archbishop's robe overlaid his form.

The third Holy Angel swung its Holy Spear, striking from afar—suddenly, a pillar of holy flame erupted from the ground, engulfing Anthony entirely.

Anthony felt no pain from the holy flame, nor did he care—he was too stunned by his own soul. He muttered involuntarily: "L…Lord, what did you do to my soul?"

Anthony was already Ang's Soul Warrior; the Soul was formed from his own belief and will, offered to the god.

The god held dominion over his Soul, able to easily control his life or death, and could bestow upon it immense power, then return it when needed.

Since the Soul was originally his offering, when it returned bearing the god's power, the loss was minimal and the affinity high, causing no serious harm to him.

Of course, these were all theories—strengthening a Soul required the god to expend his own power, and gods rarely had so much idle energy. Usually, when a Soul was returned, it was far weaker than when offered, due to distance-induced loss.

But now, Anthony felt the possessing Soul was overwhelmingly powerful—far stronger than when he had offered it. The immense power leaked uncontrollably, radiating holy light and wrapping Anthony like a glowing crystal lamp.

Ang sent a puzzled thought in reply: "Feed it holy light." Simply feed it holy light until it couldn't hold any more.

The holy flame slashed by the Holy Angels struck Anthony's body but caused him no harm—the leaking holy light alone neutralized the damage.

The onlookers gasped in shock, instinctively exclaiming: "Soul Embodiment! Soul Embodiment! The Archbishop has summoned his Soul—he is a Chosen of the Gods!"

Soul Embodiment was a higher tier than Holy Angel Embodiment, because the Soul required divine approval, whereas Holy Angel Embodiment only needed the Holy Angel's consent.

To outsiders, the two seemed identical, but to those within the Church who understood, they were entirely different concepts.

In the past thousand years, the Holy Female Bishops and Clerics had all successfully summoned Holy Angel Embodiment; some even knew the Church kept a group of Holy Angels—those no longer connected to the gods.

If even Holy Angels could be privately kept, their status was naturally low.

But Souls could not be privately cultivated—Anthony's Soul descending meant he had received divine approval.

Of course, these were secret truths known only to the informed—like Daisen, hidden in the crowd, whose face beneath his cloak had twisted into a bitter gourd.

"Soul Embodiment?! How could he gain divine approval? How could this happen? Aren't all the gods already dead? How could this happen?" Daisen dared only mutter inwardly, for such words couldn't be heard by the man beside him.

Long ago in the Abyss, the Lord of Terror had sold him a box containing a fragment of a Seraph's Holy Spirit.

When a six-winged Seraph awakened and discovered the Church had split into two factions, what would her reaction be? What would she do to Anthony, the one who caused the schism?

Of course, she'd kill him on the spot—she intended to do exactly that—but Daisen persuaded her: "Lady Luna, Anthony the Traitor is surrounded by followers of heretical gods. He has even deceived and enslaved over a dozen Holy Angels. For caution's sake, we should first test his defenses before you personally strike him down."

He persuaded her to hold back; Luna quietly blended into the crowd and ordered Anthony's surrounding Holy Angels to attack, instantly revealing his defense: Soul Embodiment.

This was… worse than not testing at all. Soul Embodiment confused Luna—could Anthony, the schismatic, truly have divine approval?

There was no time for confusion—Daisen hurried over and said: "It must be a heretical god's deception. Even you receive no response from the gods—how could a mere mortal like Anthony? It's surely a heretical illusion."

When Luna heard the word "gods," she instinctively recoiled—but her memories had been reset; she remembered nothing of the past, not how she petrified the Scales, nor how the gods killed her pet.

She remembered only one thing: maintaining the Church's order was one of her duties.

Before Soul Embodiment, Anthony had fought the Holy Angels evenly; after Soul Embodiment, these First-Rank Holy Angels were no match for him—he swept six of them down in moments.

His exquisite martial skill left the crowd bewildered—no one knew whether to help or not.

It was time for her to act. Luna leapt into the air, her light wings unfolding and bursting her cloak apart.

Her back wings rapidly solidified, forming pure white true wings; within a few breaths, the light wings transformed from energy into real wings.

Then, from the base of the true wings, radiant holy light erupted, condensing into two additional pairs of white light wings.

The Six-Winged Seraph—descended!

"Heavens, what's happening? A Six-Winged Archangel assassinating Anthony? Luna?"

Six-Winged Archangels all had names—once revealed, everyone knew who they were. This was clearly Seraph Luna—why was she killing Anthony? Was it the will of the gods?

Those who had favored Anthony, believing him the true divine messenger, now hesitated.

Damn it—who should I help? Who is the true god? Who is the heretic? Can't they just hang a sign? This is so confusing!

In this state of uncertainty, most chose to watch and wait.

Only Saint Servant Patrice and her subordinates launched a collective attack against the Holy Angels.

Patrice was too deeply bound by silver coins—even if Anthony was evil, she had no choice but to keep going, or else she and her followers were merely playthings pleasing the higher-ups.

Patrice and the Saint Servants blocked the Holy Angels, freeing Anthony's hands. He raised his palm toward Luna and shouted: "The god says—"

He had barely spoken two words when his scalp prickled—he clearly saw Luna's energy intensity skyrocketing, about to erupt.

"Holy Radiance? But… what happened to me? Why can I 'see' energy intensity?" Anthony muttered.

Luna's stance clearly signaled she was preparing Holy Radiance—but what shocked Anthony wasn't that—it was himself. He had actually *seen* Luna's energy intensity with visible color bands.

Luna's energy intensity hovered at one-third of the color band—equivalent to roughly 33%.

What did this mean? No—why could I see the color bands?

The crowd's cries answered Anthony's question: "Heavens! The Scales Ring—it's the Scales of the God of Balance, measuring all things! The God of Balance has descended!"

Anthony turned his head—and there, behind him, was a ring.

Not only he saw it—Luna saw it too. She had already assumed her stance to cast Holy Radiance, but now she had to forcibly suppress it.

Because the Scales Ring and the Equal Holy Frame were both the Scales' divine techniques—Holy Radiance would reflect back onto herself.

She didn't know that Ang hadn't obtained the Equal Holy Frame—only the Scales Ring.

If the opponent were the Scales' true form, Luna would be helpless; without absolute resolve to die, she couldn't break the Equal Holy Frame.

But the opponent was only Anthony—a living human. Even if he activated the Equal Holy Frame, what use was it? Cut him down blade by blade—she could recover; could he?

Luna immediately abandoned grand techniques like Holy Radiance and charged toward Anthony.

Anthony's outstretched hand hadn't yet retracted—he continued: "The god says… plant the land…?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Luna, the crowd, and Anthony himself all froze—plant the land? What the hell?

He hadn't said it—*the god* had. The god? Ang!

In a flash, Anthony pieced it all together and inwardly sighed—Lord, in a moment like this, can you *not* joke?

He quickly added: "Even the most noble must bow down! The Posture of Planting!"

As Luna charged forward, a powerful force struck her, forcing her upright spine to bend involuntarily.

Thus arose a bizarre scene: Luna, bent low, rushed toward Anthony—as if she weren't attacking, but coming to greet him.

Anthony swung his staff backward, striking upward toward Luna's face.

Luna crossed her arms to block—her entire body, hunched over, was knocked flying backward.

The crowd stared, dumbfounded—this bizarre, almost comical divine technique was unheard of: The Posture of Planting?

"Have any of you heard of this?"

"No, no—is this a divine revelation from the Light? Planting?"

"Could it be a new divine revelation? Has Anthony received a new revelation?"

"Heavens—is he truly a Chosen of the Gods?"

"Didn't he say this before? Didn't you always flatter him? Don't you secretly believe?"

"Who actually believes? Do you believe?"

"Whether I believe or not, planting? Anthony's converted to Druidism?"

Luna was furious. Holy Angels had no emotions—but Six-Winged Archangels did. Luna's emotions ran deep—the humiliation of The Posture of Planting was unbearable. She had been forced to bow?

"No one—makes Luna bow! Not even—gods—can!" Luna snarled, each word dripping with venom.

As she spoke, her bent spine slowly, yet resolutely, straightened joint by joint—clearly audible were the sounds of vertebrae snapping.

Simultaneously, blazing holy flames surged from her body, rapidly healing her broken spine.

Anthony's scalp prickled—this Seraph was ruthless! She was willing to break her own bones to defy a divine decree?

But the next second, Anthony cried out: "No! Corruption! The Seraph has fallen! Everyone, follow my order—kill her!"

As Luna resisted the divine decree, the pure white holy flames emerging from her body suddenly darkened with a streak of black, spreading like ink.

Now, no one hesitated—the truth was clear: the Chosen, the Crimson Archbishop, the Acting Pope of the Holy Church, the divine messenger on earth—Archbishop Anthony—was under attack by a fallen Six-Winged Seraph.

Earlier, everyone was confused; now, they understood. It was not too late to redeem themselves—kill her!

In an instant, countless divine arts, spells, hidden weapons, bows, and crossbows rained down upon Luna.

Luna tried to move—then a colossal voice thundered across heaven and earth: "You are guilty!"

Instantly, several thick chains appeared, binding her tightly—the Chains of Original Sin.

If one couldn't dodge, even a true god's incarnation couldn't withstand such overwhelming firepower—the first wave struck her and erased her from existence.

Confirming Luna was reduced to dust, Anthony wiped sweat from his brow and exhaled deeply—too… damn close. Who could have imagined a Six-Winged Archangel would assassinate him? Lucky I called for help in time.

How did Ang get the Scales Ring? What did he do to the God of Balance? And why was this Six-Winged Archangel weaker than rumored? Where was her Petrification Crossbow?

Filled with questions, Anthony suddenly heard a roaring wave of voices. He looked up—everyone around him, Church members, believers, spectators—all knelt on the ground, chanting:

"Archbishop Anthony, your divine grace is boundless, your favor endless—follow you, the gods shall guide our path…"

Anthony suddenly realized—he had just created a massive spectacle. This was more dramatic than any miracle. His soul-flame surged wildly…

Ang stared, bewildered, as pure soul-flame poured in endlessly—originally offered to the Light, now all flowing to him because of Anthony.

Adhering to the original principle that once you come, you don't leave, he tore off everything and shoved it into Little Wraith's hands.

At the same time, Negrilis held the box he had picked up from the undead, staring at the Holy Spirit fragment inside and shouting: "Restored! Restored! It's truly restored—Du Luo's shattered seal really works."