Chapter 467: The Angel Who Came to Help?

Grand Archbishop.

We have gathered information about Longinus' Gun.

Hong Yu, who was handling affairs, paused his pen slightly, and the ink spread a small blot on the parchment.

He lifted his head, looked at the excited believer who came to report, his expression calm: "Continue."

"Yes." The believer inhaled deeply and continued:

"This information was obtained at the cost of sacrificing three 'Bishop'-rank personnel who have been covertly operating in the Vatican for years."

"Their identities were exposed, and they have already become martyrs for the Lord. Therefore, the source of the information is absolutely reliable."

He paused, then said: "Pope Francis has decided that Laide De Lion, one of the Twelve Knights of the Round Table, will personally escort Longinus' Gun to Yingguo. Upon arrival, the Holy Gun will be jointly guarded by the Twelve Knights of the Round Table Group in Yingguo."

"I see." Hong Yu did not immediately voice an opinion, merely placed his pen gently on the pen holder, leaned his body back into the high-backed chair, and fell into contemplation.

The room fell silent for a moment, only the crackling of burning logs in the fireplace could be heard.

After a while, Hong Yu spoke again, his gaze sharp:

"If I recall correctly, another Holy Relic, the Holy Grail… is also in Yingguo right now, isn't it? Within the still‑sleeping Arthur King's embrace."

"Yes, Grand Archbishop." The believer immediately nodded in confirmation:

"According to the intelligence we have, Arthur King is currently at Westminster Abbey."

"It seems those Vatican guys deliberately set a trap, so given this…" Hong Yu guessed something; a glint flashed in his eyes, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a complex smile, both mocking and ambitious.

He suddenly rose, and his flowing black robe swung in an arc with the movement.

He no longer looked at the believer, walked straight toward the adjoining small council chamber, leaving only a command:

"Summon them all; when the time comes to compare strengths."

……

Half a month later, night, Yingguo.

Westminster Abbey, also called Westminster.

This Gothic masterpiece, begun in AD 960, sits on the north bank of the Thames River, adjacent to the Houses of Parliament, and serves as the exclusive chapel of the British Royal Family, bearing witness to countless coronations, weddings, and rests of monarchs.

At this moment, under the cold moonlight and the city's hazy glow, it appeared especially solemn.

The massive doors of the chapel were not fully closed, leaving a gap.

Inside, on a long bench near the entrance, sat two people.

They wore casual clothes, their posture seeming relaxed and carefree, yet their eyes periodically scanned the open square before the door and the extending street, as if awaiting something.

Until a figure clad in a dark long trench coat, tall and upright, walked at an unhurried pace from the far end of the street, the moonlight casting a long shadow behind him.

His steps were steady as he walked straight toward the chapel's doors.

The moment he pushed the doors open, the two on the bench rose simultaneously, smiles appearing on their faces; one spoke, his voice tinged with teasing:

"Laide, you're thirteen minutes late."

The one entering was Laide De Lion.

He took off his coat, casually hung it on the ancient rack by the door, moving as naturally as if he were home—well, given his status, treating this place as home isn't unreasonable.

Hearing his companion's words, he shrugged, his tone relaxed:

"I did it on purpose, took a detour, wanted to see if any rude fellows would strike midway… unfortunately, the sea is calm."

Having said that, he reached into the coat's inner pocket and took out an unremarkable dark wooden box.

The box was small.

His gaze, passing over his companion's shoulder, fell toward the deeper part of the chapel.

It was where St. Edward's Chapel stood, housing a special Healing Holy Water pool.

Faintly visible, a figure seemed to drift silently in the pool, only half a head showing, golden hair floating in the water like aquatic plants.

But Laide only glanced, said nothing further, and did not walk toward that direction.

He withdrew his gaze, his expression returning to calm, walked to the bench, and sat down with the other two.

These three were also Knights of the Round Table: one, with dazzling golden hair, about forty years old, named Liruo Er; the other, an elder, slender, with a side sword at his waist, named Lie Wen.

The three ceased speaking, simply waiting in silence.

Inside the chapel, only the faint sound of burning candles and the distant, faint flow of the Thames River remained.

Time passed second by second.

At some point, the moonlight outside the window seemed to dim.

At first it was subtle, but soon the Pure Radiance was layered over by an invisible curtain, rapidly weakening until it vanished completely.

Not only the moonlight, but also the dim yellow glow of street lamps in the distance began to blur and sway, as if eroded and devoured by some force.

Darkness, a viscous and aggressive darkness, surged like a tide from shadows in all directions, spreading silently.

It silently devoured light, leaving only the purest No Light wherever it passed.

This eerie darkness slowly spread toward the entrance of Westminster Abbey.

Laide's previously relaxed body tightened slightly; his gaze flashed like lightning as he looked at the street and square outside, increasingly consumed by darkness, and whispered:

"It's coming."

He paused, adding three words, as if issuing a command:

"Prepare yourselves."

The other two nodded silently, their eyes instantly becoming as sharp as knives.

"Step... step... step..."

Slow footfalls came from the viscous darkness beyond the doors, each step seeming to tread on the gaps between heartbeats, imparting a heavy sense of pressure.

Immediately after, the still‑unclosed massive doors emitted a "Creak—" as an invisible force slowly pushed them from the outside.

As the gap widened, the darkness outside flowed like a living fluid, seeping thread by thread through the opening into the chapel's interior.

Laide, Liruo Er, and Lie Wen's gazes instantly locked onto the gradually widening door crack; their muscles tensed, and the Holy Power within began to circulate.

Yet, just as the great door was about to be fully pushed open, at the instant the figure outside seemed about to step in—

The act of pushing the door abruptly stopped!

Immediately after, an even stranger event occurred.

The darkness that had been surging in like a tide, as if frightened or commanded, retreated at a speed faster than its advance, pulling back and dissipating like the ebbing sea!

It was as if the presence about to step through the doorway changed its mind at the last moment, or… sensed something and voluntarily retracted its breath.

This sudden turn of events made Laide and his companions furrow their brows, the alarm bells ringing loudly in their hearts.

The opponent's behavior defied all reason; such a "advance then retreat" stance often signals a larger plot or a stronger eruption.

A flash of sharpness flickered in Liruo Er's eyes, and he whispered:

"Something's off; they might want…"

The elderly Lie Wen raised his hand, signaling him to stay calm, his gaze fixed on the motionless door, beyond which calm had returned.

In his perception, something was brewing.

At the moment the three exchanged glances, ready to launch a proactive strike to investigate or alter their defense strategy—

Boom—!!!

A deafening, earth‑shaking roar erupted!

It did not come from outside the door, but from the massive, centuries‑old, heavily blessed door itself!

It was as if volatile explosives had been placed inside, or an invisible giant hammer hammered it from outside with brute force; the entire door panel shattered into countless fragments in a single explosion!

Then, before the fragments could hit the ground, they further disintegrated and vanished within a Frenzy of energy turbulence, turning into the finest dust that fluttered away!

At the doorway, only a huge, ragged‑edged void remained, empty and yawning.

The blast's shockwave mixed with wood‑chip dust filled the air, yet Laide and his companions kept their eyes locked on the space beyond the doorway.

The expected dark legion did not surge in.

On the contrary—

First came light!

The utmost pure, vast, majestic Holy Light, bearing supreme authority and purifying power!

Like a breached galaxy, it surged in from the broken doorway!

The brilliance was so intense that it instantly dispelled every shadow inside the Church, even causing the hanging candles to dim as if fireflies before a bright moon.

Then, within this almost unbearable dazzling radiance,

A figure, unhurried, stepped over the ruined doorway and entered Westminster Abbey.

As the light adjusted slightly and the newcomer became clear, Laide's face showed an uncontrollable, extreme shock.

Because within his line of sight,

Behind that figure, two massive pairs of wings, wholly formed from pure Holy Light, were slowly unfurling, gently flapping and scattering endless light dust, the sacred pressure enveloping the entire space like solid matter!

"Four-winged Angel?!"

The person heard his words and gave him a slight smile: "Believers of the mortal realm, I am the Wise Angel."

"I have come to help you; you need not fear."