I can see experience bars after being transported to another world.

It is about the length of a person and is composed of segments of black bone with black mucus flowing between them.

And it pulsated with the tremors of the crack; with each pulsation, the runes brightened a little more, and the crack in the plaza above widened a little more.

Old Morgan stood in the doorway, his cloudy eyes fixed on the spine.

"They actually set up anchor points?" Old Morgan's voice was somewhat surprised, but then turned into a hint of anger.

"Has the Viscount lost his mind?! How dare he let something like this in? Is he betraying the Empire?"

Old Morgan entered the vault, carefully navigating the magic circle on the ground.

This thing resonated with something on the other side, forcibly opening a passage.

That dark shadow... must be the phantom projected by that being.

Can it be destroyed?

Old Morgan frowned, squatted down, and used his structural perception to analyze the structure of the magic circle.

Lines, nodes, energy flow...

Morgan's brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

This magic circle has become one with the offerings above, and he simply cannot break it with his abilities.

There's nothing we can do about this thing, at least for the time being.

After confirming that there was no way to crack it, old Morgan decisively pulled out a gold bomb from his pocket and said coldly, "Since we can't crack it, then let's blow it up."

Just as old Morgan was about to light the fuse, a golden holy light spread from the passage behind him, dispelling the darkness in the vault.

Old Morgan looks back.

It's Alice and the Archbishop.

The archbishop's purple robes were stained with dust and blood, and his face was frighteningly pale, but his eyes remained sharp.

Although the holy light surrounding him was much dimmer than before, it still exuded a sacred aura.

"Don't blow it up!" The archbishop's hoarse voice echoed in the dome. "Forced destruction could trigger a backlash; sealing it is the safest method. Sivadin has arrived with the Holy Armored Army. With the two armies working together, the situation above is temporarily stable."

His gaze fell on the pulsating spine in the center of the magic circle, and his pupils suddenly contracted.

"How could such a thing exist! Has the Viscount committed treason?"

The archbishop's voice was filled with barely suppressed shock. As a fourth-order clergyman, he knew all too well what this thing meant.

The material that can initiate projection based on its own material is most likely some indescribable material.

The empire has repeatedly issued orders strictly forbidding any provocation against those beings.

"You didn't know? Then how could you abandon your church and rush over here?" Old Morgan looked at the archbishop with some surprise.

The archbishop remained silent for a moment, his expression growing increasingly grim.

"My men discovered that the Viscount received a secret imperial letter some time ago," the Archbishop said coldly. "After that, he began transporting some...strange things into the inner city on a large scale. I've been tracking down that shipment."

He looked at the spine, a cold glint in his eyes.

"I never expected to find this thing among the things that were brought in."

Old Morgan and the archbishop exchanged a glance.

They both saw the same doubt and wariness in each other's eyes.

"Whatever he's trying to do," the archbishop took a deep breath and walked to the edge of the magic circle. "Let's deal with the immediate problem first."

"Can it be sealed?"

"It should be fine. It seems there was an isolation seal set up here in advance, and the pollution hasn't completely spread yet."

The archbishop's voice was calm and resolute, without the slightest hesitation.

He clasped his hands together and began chanting the higher prayers.

This time, the prayers were more complex and ancient than those in the square.

Each syllable seems to be squeezed out from the depths of the soul, carrying a kind of sacred and solemn power.

Golden holy light surged from his body, more intense and purer than before.

The angelic phantom above the archbishop's head coalesced once more, its six wings unfurling, and its eyes, formed of holy light, slowly opened, gazing down at the anchor point in the center of the magic circle.

Wherever the angel's gaze falls, darkness has nowhere to hide.

Holy light surged toward the spine like a tide, completely enveloping it.

The black object emitted a piercing hiss, as if something was screaming in pain.

The runes flickered wildly, trying to resist the erosion of the holy light, but under the gaze of the angelic phantom, all their struggles seemed futile.

The frequency of the pulsation began to slow down.

The runes on the magic circle went out one by one, like candle flames being extinguished one by one by an invisible hand.

Through his structural perception, Morgan could sense that the ground vibrations were weakening and that the connection between the cracks and the anchor points was being severed.

Large beads of sweat trickled down the archbishop's forehead and down his cheeks, but his chanting continued without pause, his voice remaining steady and powerful.

Finally, the moment arrived when holy light filled the entire vault.

The spine stopped throbbing.

The runes around them all went out.

The light on the magic circle dissipated completely, leaving only the pitch-black spine lying silently on the ground.

The angelic phantom slowly dissipated, and the archbishop's chanting abruptly ceased.

He swayed and almost fell, but Alice caught him in time.

"It's alright now." The archbishop's voice was weak, tinged with relief. "Luckily, it was short-lived, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to do anything about him."

Old Morgan nodded and turned to look at Alice.

"You stay here and take care of the archbishop; I'll go upstairs and check on the situation."

Alice nodded and helped the archbishop lean against the wall to rest.

The archbishop watched old Morgan's departing figure, couldn't help but shake his head, took out a small bottle of pale golden liquid from his pocket, squeezed out a drop and poured it into the holy water, then drank it all at once, and his complexion visibly recovered.

Old Morgan strode out of the vault.

The sight in the square relieved him.

The crack is now shrinking.

The enormous black shadow that had been looming overhead was also dissipating, as if being pulled by some force, slowly shrinking back into the depths of the rift.

Those countless rotating eyes roared silently, but could not stop their fate of being devoured.

The tentacles struggled frantically, as if unwilling to retreat, but the barrier formed by the holy light grew stronger and stronger, forcing them back into the rift little by little.

Valentine is still on the battlefield, but the pressure has been significantly reduced.

The viscount was still fighting, but his movements were becoming increasingly sluggish and the flames were growing dimmer.

A few minutes later.

The crack has completely closed.

The shadows vanished, and the sky was once again covered with gloomy clouds.

Valentine retracted his fangs, and the keratin layer on his body slowly peeled away, restoring his human appearance. Feeling the sticky sensation on his body, he couldn't help but frown.

Old Morgan stared at the pitted, corroded ground in the center of the square and remained silent for a moment.

It's temporarily over.

My gaze swept over the collapsed buildings and the corpses scattered everywhere.

The core area of ​​the inner city was almost half destroyed.

Shops, houses, warehouses... all around the city hall square were reduced to ruins.

The ground contaminated by the cracks will probably not be able to recover in the short term.

Morgan sighed.

This battle will set back the development of Grimport by at least two or three years.

Reconstruction requires money, appeasing the public requires money, and restoring the contaminated land requires even more money.

This port city was already poor, and the viscount's tax policies were constantly draining the people's resources...

This is difficult.

This is really a difficult situation.

That damned viscount, he should have been arrested sooner!