My mom is waiting for treatment, and you're summoning me to be a hero?

In White Tower City, the air inside the main hall was as still as a piece of frozen amber.

The allied demigods stood on the left side of the main hall.

Aize held an elven scimitar, its blade still dripping with the golden blood of angels.

The demigods from various races behind him were also panting heavily.

Before them stood three people, each dressed in a white robe embroidered with gold, holding a scepter of holy light. The hem of their robes was stained with blood, but their posture remained upright.

These are the four major bishops of the Papacy.

As for the one who was absent, it was none other than Bishop Zhiyun, who had been killed by Lin Mo in Saint Lin Village.

Behind them was the magnificent gate at the deepest part of the Papal Palace, the gate tightly closed, with a complete relief of the Holy Cross carved on it.

Saint Zefa is behind the stone gate.

The two groups were about twenty paces apart.

Several corpses lay scattered on the ground.

There were rogue demigods on the allied side, and paladin commanders on the archbishop's side.

Both sides have temporarily stopped fighting at this point.

It's not that we don't want to fight, it's that we're all waiting.

They all knew that the most crucial part of this war was not here, but Lin Mo and the Pope.

An archbishop with white hair and beard spoke first.

The tip of his holy scepter was still faintly glowing, and his voice, though aged, was full of energy, echoing beneath the dome of the hall.

"Give up. Lin Mo is no match for His Holiness the Pope."

Another archbishop followed suit, his voice filled with compassionate admonition.

"His Holiness the Pope is the chosen representative of the gods, and no one can defeat him. You are also demigods, and your cultivation is not easy. Why should you be buried with a demon king? Lay down your weapons now and wait for His Holiness the Pope to return. We can plead for you. The Holy Light is merciful and may be able to forgive your sins."

Among the rogue demigods, some exchanged glances.

They are not afraid of death... No one who has reached the level of a demigod is truly afraid of death.

But they were afraid of dying in vain.

Just then, Aize spoke.

The Elf King's voice was clear and steady, neither too loud nor too soft, yet it possessed a power that could penetrate all other noises.

He didn't look at the wavering rogue demigods, but stared directly at the archbishop opposite him, his emerald eyes devoid of any emotional fluctuation.

"We don't know how strong the Pope is, but we've seen Lin Mo's strength."

These words gave the people behind him a sense of confidence, and the scene of Lin Mo smashing the moon that day involuntarily came to mind.

Yes, even if the archbishop is strong, can he be stronger than Lin Mo?

Seeing this, Aize spoke again.

"Besides, if the Pope is really that strong, why hasn't he come out after fighting for so long? There's only one reason... he can't win."

"nonsense!"

The white-haired archbishop interrupted sharply, slamming the Holy Light Scepter to the ground, its golden runes suddenly illuminating.

"His Holiness the Pope can't possibly lose! He's just wearing Lin Mo down, observing him, and..."

tread!

A footstep interrupted him.

The sound was neither hurried nor slow, the rhythm of the boot soles stepping on the stone slabs was so steady as to be almost casual.

All the noise, all the arguments, all the wavering were silenced by the sound of footsteps.

Everyone in the hall fell silent at the same time, and then turned their heads to look at the entrance of the corridor.

They knew that at this moment, only Lin Mo or the Pope could have come from there.

In the shadows at the entrance to the corridor, a pair of scarlet eyes lit up first.

Then a figure no bigger than a palm flew out of the shadows, its small wings flapping lightly, its red hair gleaming faintly in the afterglow of the holy light.

She crossed her arms and legs, looked around under the dome of the main hall, and then revealed a standard gloating smile.

"Oh, everyone's here?"

Yin Xue's tone was as light as if he were attending a tea party.

But those three seemingly casual words made all the demigods on the allied side breathe a sigh of relief, and made all the archbishops widen their eyes in surprise.

Because Yin Xue is a demon king whose soul is bound to Lin Mo's.

The fact that she's here, speaking in this tone, means there's only one possibility.

Deep in the corridor, a figure in a black robe slowly emerged from the shadows.

The black robe with gold trim was stained with dried blood, and the sword and wheat emblem on his chest gleamed faintly in the afterglow of the holy light.

The black sword hung at his waist, its scabbard swaying gently with each step.

Lin Mo's face was expressionless, as calm as if he had just walked out of his own palace.

Tie Mo, who had just been knocked away, was now following behind him, like an obedient schoolboy.

Seeing this, Aize sheathed his scimitar, a very faint smile appearing on his lips.

"I knew you'd be fine."

Sag closed his eyes and silently recited an ancestral prayer.

On the granite skin of the Stone Skin Clan demigod, the defensive patterns faded layer by layer.

Dracula took out another glass of red wine and swirled it.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

On the archbishop's side, there was a deathly silence.

The white-haired archbishop who spoke first had his holy staff slip from his hand and fall onto the stone slab with a crisp clang.

His mouth was open, his lips were trembling, but no sound came out of his throat.

He looked Lin Mo up and down, trying to find even a single wound on him.

but.

Although Lin Mo's clothes were torn in several places, his skin was completely unharmed, without even a white mark.

His expression was calm, his breathing even, and his steps steady as if he hadn't experienced any exertion.

This was not a narrow victory; it was a crushing defeat.

The target of their crushing defeat was the most powerful demigod on the continent, the Pope who had lived for a thousand years.

"No...impossible!"

The white-haired archbishop finally regained his voice, but it was so sharp and distorted that it sounded like a chicken whose neck had been stepped on.

"His Holiness the Pope cannot possibly lose! He is the agent of God! His imagination is the strongest divine insight bestowed upon him! How could he possibly..."

"That's right! We all know His Holiness the Pope's abilities, how could he possibly lose!"

Another archbishop followed suit, his eyes flashing wildly between madness and fear, veins bulging on his forehead.

"I get it! He's not Lin Mo at all! This is an illusion created by the Allied Forces!"

"Right, right, right! With so many coalition troops here, how could they possibly just sit obediently outside waiting!"

"He almost fooled me."

……

The white-haired archbishop took a deep breath, bent down to pick up the Holy Light Scepter from the ground, and the golden runes on the scepter lit up again.

He raised his head, his eyes shifting from fear to a desperate, feverish intensity.

He gripped the scepter tightly, its tip pointing directly at Lin Mo deep in the corridor.

"This can't be the real Lin Mo. Lin Mo has already been killed by His Holiness the Pope. This must be an imposter hired by the Allied Forces. They want to trick us into giving up resistance—wishful thinking!"

He took a sudden step forward, his white robe unfurling behind him, and his entire being transformed into a golden torrent of holy light, rushing into the depths of the corridor.

The other archbishops exchanged glances, gripped their scepters, and followed behind him.

Three beams of holy light shone simultaneously, leaving three dazzling golden trails in the hall.

"Attack together! Kill this imposter Lin Mo!"

The archbishops, accompanied by a torrent of holy light, rushed into the corridor.

"Be careful!"

Aize shouted.

The other demigods also frowned upon seeing this.

Some wanted to help, while others wanted Lin Mo to die.

But before they could even start lining up, the red light curtain exploded.

The killing field instantly swept across the entire corridor, centered on him.

The crimson light curtain devoured the golden holy light, turning every corner scarlet.

The archbishop's body froze in mid-air for a moment... not frozen in place, but their senses simultaneously sounded the most piercing alarm.

But the alarm came too late.

Lin Mo placed his palm on the hilt of the black sword, drew the sword, and swung it.

There was almost no time interval between drawing the sword and swinging it.

The eerie light emanating from the black sword trailed a thin red line within the killing field.

The red thread drifted out along the trajectory of the sword's blade, as light as a spider's silk being blown by the wind.

bass--

The sound of a sharp blade cutting through flesh echoed in the hall.

Not one sound, but three.

The three sounds overlapped, short and crisp, like cutting three fruits at the same moment.

Three heads flew up at the same time.

The white-haired archbishop's head spun halfway through the air, his face still burning with fervor, his eyes wide open, his lips still poised to utter the final words.

Then the three heads landed simultaneously, bounced on the marble floor, and rolled to the feet of the Allied demigod.

The allied demigods were all frozen in place.

From the moment the sword was drawn to the moment the head fell to the ground, less than a breath had passed.

The archbishops at the highest level of the Papacy are figures who, if picked out randomly, could make a small country bow down to them.

In front of Lin Mo, he didn't even qualify as an opponent.