Chapter 1015: Act 186 – The Battle of the White Lion IX
“Sydney, you truly came here to throw yourself into the net.”
A somewhat stern voice rang out flatly in the Fusha Temple hall. The hall had, at some unknown moment, become occupied by two more people. The one who had spoken was one of them, and the priest who had previously lectured Jorf was now standing respectfully behind this individual alongside a stranger. This person, approximately forty to fifty years in age, wore a holy robe nearly identical in style to Sydney’s, was slightly balding, and somewhat overweight.
In truth, this individual was Roderick, the sixth-ranked ‘Eulogist’ among the Eleven Holy Seats—Roderick Barbarossa. He hailed from the scholarly family of Cloak Bay and had been deeply favored by Mezoli, the previous Great Priest and Bishop of the Cloak Bay Diocese, even in his youth. Later, he ascended to the upper echelons of the Temple and became renowned for his hymns of praise. When he once eradicated heretics in Amborili, he was merciless, earning him the moniker of ‘Iron Bishop.’ Upon his return to the Temple’s core, he quickly entered the power center of the Eleven Holy Seats. Though he appeared young, he was not that much younger than Varla.
But Sydney didn’t even lift an eyelid to look at him, seemingly too lazy to respond. Her gaze shifted toward the altar, where the Flame Door had already vanished without a trace—obviously, this was a trap laid for her visit. She wasn’t surprised at all that they knew she would come here. She had taken fragments of the Holy Sword Odrefice when she fled the Lion Saint Palace. If the Queen didn’t figure this out, that would be surprising.
Romaine and Haruz stood somewhat nervously behind the statue of the Saintess of Lion Saint Palace. Brynhildr stood nearby guarding their safety. She looked somewhat indifferent; the order given to her by Brendel was to escort Sydney to Fatan Port on her Wind Horse. As for these worldly disputes, she didn’t really care, especially since Sydney hadn’t asked for her help.
Perhaps angered by Sydney and Brynhildr’s indifference, High Priest Roderick twitched his eyebrows, and a faint anger rose within him. Although he ranked sixth among the Eleven Holy Seats, his real strength wasn’t that far from Sydney’s. In fact, among the eleven seats, apart from the exceptionally powerful Varla, the others weren’t too dissimilar in strength. Moreover, at the moment, he had the assistance of two high-ranking priests from the scholarly faction. He didn’t understand where Sydney’s confidence came from.
Was it because of the woman behind her?
Roderick glanced at Brynhildr and judged that even the foremost Valkyrie was likely no more than at the level of ‘Sides of Truth.’ As for Romaine and Haruz, he directly ignored them. Having established this, Roderick was reassured. Unwilling to cause further complications, he immediately ordered the two beside him and Jorf, “Act together, stop her, and don’t let her escape.”
“Master, that boy should be Erluin’s…”
At this moment, the high-ranking priest beside Jorf suddenly spoke out.
Roderick glanced at Haruz, his eyes flashing with a touch of surprise. Silent acknowledgment passed between him and the priest. He replied, “Ignore him. They won’t escape, just keep an eye on Sydney.”
Although the two’s murmured conversation was low, Sydney, with her abilities, could not have failed to hear it. Yet, she appeared as if she hadn’t heard a word, standing motionless as if coldly observing Roderick’s actions. Her attitude angered this ‘Eulogist’ from the Temple core even more.
Roderick emitted an icy snort from his nose and began to chant softly:
“Supreme Flame, our Sovereign King.
Forgive the folly of the mortal world,
Bestow thy divine judgment,
And cleanse all sins and darkness.”
A sacred light descended from the temple dome, enveloping him. He spread his hands wide, and this light dispersed outward like a cage, attempting to surround Sydney. If Brendel had been here, he would have surely been astonished to recognize this spell—’Instruction Poem’. It was one of the 74 sacred hymns of the Temple of Fire. A hymn was one of the most potent holy arts of the priests of the Temple of Fire. Each of the 74 hymns was itself a powerful holy art. They were both judgment and truth, wielding unimaginable strength.
What mortals called divine magic was, in fact, this hymn magic.
And hymns were Roderick’s forte. Among the 74 hymns, some were long and some short. ‘Instruction Poem,’ known for its formidable containment, sealing, and bound magic, consisted of 144 lines. A deeply doctrined hermit monk could cast this holy art with just seven lines of poetry. But Roderick could summon it with an astonishingly brief four lines of verse.
In this particular field, he stood at the peak of the Temple of Fire. Even Vala might be outdone by him in this aspect.
As Roderick cast his spell, the two academy masters beside him simultaneously flanked Sydney on either side. They each wielded a staff with a cross-shaped head at unknown moments. These were the Cross Staves of the Temple of Fire, both potent holy implements and symbols of their authority. Bishops of their rank were generally referred to as ‘Cross Bishops.’ In the Temple of Fire, the strength of Cross Bishops typically ranged between elemental enlightenment to the ‘Sides of Truth,’ depending on individual capabilities. Most regional bishops did not reach this level, and thus, these Cross Bishops were mostly scholars with profound expertise in sacred arts and religious knowledge.
Being attacked simultaneously by ‘Eulogist’ Roderick and two academy scholars, within the temple, anyone except perhaps the Supreme Saint Vala would not be able to emerge unscathed. Yet, at this moment, Sydney appeared to have no sense of danger at all, standing calmly with a cold and disdainful gaze towards the approaching academy masters and Roderick’s holy magic.
“Is she crazy?”
Roderick could hardly believe the scene before him. Of course, he didn’t think he could casually wound the chief priest of the Lion Saint Palace with a mere spell. Not even himself, probably, and definitely not Great Saintess Vala could do that. After all, Sydney was the second most combat-efficient existence among the Eleven Holy Seats. There was a legend in the Empire that the saintess statue of the Lion Saint Palace had been extremely gifted in combat in her youth. She could have joined the Flame-favored Knights, but instead, she chose the path of a monk.
As one of the Eleven Holy Seats, Roderick knew that this legend was not without foundation but was, in fact, true. Moreover, Sydney had even been spotted by the previous grandmaster of the knight corps, who intended to designate her as his successor. However, Sydney opposed it herself, and with the protection of Vala and the previous Great Saintess, the matter ended without resolution.
This woman was naturally destined to be a knight. Even after choosing the path of a bishop, her fighting style remained the most aggressive among the eleven seats.
But even that aggression did not justify for Sydney to stand still and resist his magic. Did she think he was some second-rate high priest?
However, the next moment made Roderick feel that he was the one who had gone mad.
He saw his magic disintegrate just before it touched Sydney’s body, fragmenting like glass and scattering like dust, lost to the wind. At that moment, Roderick almost thought he was having an illusion. It was a hymn, one of the top ten in power among the 74 hymns. How could she neutralize his magic without moving?
Was the woman before his eyes actually Vala in disguise?
Roderick immediately dismissed this insane thought. First, the Great Saintess Vala was currently under house arrest by Her Majesty the Queen. Moreover, even Vala herself could not have neutralized his magic without moving.
A terrible possibility flashed through his mind.
Before he could react, Sydney finally moved, pointing her right hand at him. A simple three-ring holy art—a ray of light. A white light shot out from Sydney’s fingertip, heading straight for ‘Eulogist’ Roderick. This holy art was very popular among low-ranking priests because it was one of the most effective attack methods below the fourth ring. However, at the level of the Holy Seat, such magic was practically a joke.
Not only did Roderick have countless ways to counteract this spell, but even if he did nothing and let the spell hit his body, this mere three-ring spell might not even penetrate his will barrier.
But at this moment, he felt a sense of extreme danger from this spell. In an instant, he set up several protective holy spells around himself and retreated hurriedly in fear of being unable to withstand this three-ring spell.
In the next instant, under the watchful eyes of everyone in the hall, an incredible spectacle occurred—the simple ray of light pierced through all of Roderick’s protective spells as if it were a holy spear.
As everyone watched in shock, the white ray completely bypassed ‘Eulogist’ Roderick’s will barrier, effortlessly piercing his plump body straight through the heart area.
The illustrious Roderick, one of the Eleven Holy Seats of the Temple of Fire, stared with disbelieving eyes, unable to comprehend how he had so easily met his end, before darkness engulfed his consciousness.
As Roderick’s body hit the floor and burst into flames, seemingly consumed by divine fire, silence enveloped the entire hall, leaving everyone momentarily speechless.
Including countless monks present, Priest Jorf, and the two academy masters, all of whom had stopped in their tracks, looking at Sydney, the statue of the Saintess of Lion Saint Palace, as if she were a ghost. Continuing the attack wasn’t a sensible choice, but retreating, where would they retreat to?
What was Roderick’s strength? He perished under a mere three-ring spell, what hope was there for them?
But these two, as monks with profound doctrinal knowledge, quickly deduced the possibility Roderick considered before his d*ath. Their faces changed simultaneously as they cast a glance at Sydney, who now remained calm and composed. However, at this moment, Sydney ignored them, addressing all the lower-ranking monks of the Temple of Fire in the hall: “Open the doors immediately and gather everyone. I have an announcement.”
Father Jorf reacted only then, glancing at Roderick’s ashes on the floor and then at Sydney, unable to stammer out, “Miss Sydney, you…”
As soon as he spoke, he regretted it. If Roderick could d*e, how dare he inquire? Undoubtedly, this female demon would immediately punish him.
But upon this thought, Jorf found an unknown source of courage, perhaps from a desperate mentality. He suddenly lifted his head and loudly proclaimed, “Miss Sydney, since you have betrayed the Temple, you are no longer a Holy Seat of the Temple of Fire. Thus, we will not heed your orders. The Fusha Temple will never bow to any heretics!”
At the sound of his words, an oppressive silence fell over the Fusha Temple, so quiet one could hear a pin drop. Everyone looked at him as if he were insane, including the two academy masters, their expressions a complex mix of awe and admiration.
“Your bravery is commendable,” but Sydney seemed unperturbed, replying coldly, “However, the one issuing orders isn’t me. There isn’t much time left for Fatan Port. I hope you do not waste it.”
With that, she extended her hand, and a shadow slowly emerged behind the image of the Saintess of Lion Saint Palace.
Seeing that shadow, everyone in the Fusha Temple was stunned.
“This is…”
“This is the Holy Sword Odrefice!”
“Great King above…”
Sydney stiffened her face and coldly announced, “In the name of Fire King Gilt, I declare the Silver Queen’s conspiracy to split the Temple. All believers in Fusha Temple and the Fatan Port Diocese must immediately submit to the spirit of the Holy Sword and follow my orders, launching a Holy War!”
The two academy masters turned deathly pale.
