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

The barrier shrouding Grimport remains faintly visible.

Allen's face darkened.

Everyone's expression changed.

Even the peak of the fourth tier couldn't be used?

"...We can't get out." Old Morgan's voice was low as he stood beside Lu Yuan, his hand holding the weapon trembling slightly.

Behind them, the flesh tree continued to spread, and the "resurrected" heads were still frantically calling out "Mother." Ahead, the road was blocked.

Grimport... is really under blockade.

An atmosphere of despair began to spread.

"Deploy defenses!"

Allen turned around, his voice cold and decisive, interrupting the spreading despair.

"All armored soldiers and Night's Watchmen, disperse! Establish a defensive line in the rear! Buy time! Don't let those things get close!"

"Understood!" Sivadin responded immediately, swinging his giant blade. "Left wing, follow me!"

"The right flank is mine." Raymond ordered the remaining armored soldiers to spread out to the right. "Everyone, keep your distance and don't linger in battle!"

The two Judges beside the Great Ascended also joined the battle at his signal.

They began firing at the spreading flesh trees.

The firelight and holy light intertwined, forming a temporary defensive line at the rear.

But everyone knows that this is just a delaying tactic.

There are too many flesh trees; it's only a matter of time before the defenses are breached.

Hans had joined the defense, wielding a silver greatsword and relentlessly repelling the fleshy tree vines that were spreading from the west. He had cut down countless vines, but more were still pouring out.

"Don't let them get close!" Hans roared, severing several vines with a single stroke of his sword. "Hold the line!"

Mary, positioned in the center, held her gun, the muzzle spitting fire as she repelled the mutated beings attempting to break through the blockade.

Her face was covered in rain and gunpowder, but her eyes remained calm.

In the distance, the roar of collapsing buildings could be heard, and yet another area was swallowed up by the flesh tree.

Just then, the sound of a horse-drawn carriage wheel rolling over a stone road came from afar.

A black carriage caravan emerged from the inner city, its wheels stained with blood, churning the rain-soaked cobblestones with a dull thud.

"It's the church!" someone shouted, their voice filled with barely suppressed excitement.

The crowd deployed ahead automatically parted to make way.

The white-robed priest alighted from the carriage, accompanied by his deacons who carried scriptures.

They radiated a faint glow, and wherever the holy light passed, the filth in the air seemed to be dispelled.

Their arrival diluted some of the despair that permeated the crowd.

The convoy stopped, and the car doors opened.

The archbishop stepped out of the car, his purple robes fluttering in the rain.

Lu Yuan noticed that his condition was completely different from when he was at the Viscount's mansion.

The old man who nearly collapsed after learning that the angel's gaze had shifted away was gone; in his place was a resolute determination to burn his bridges.

His face was still pale, but his gaze had regained its composure.

It's as if a certain decision has been made.

The archbishop's gaze swept over the barely visible barrier before him, then glanced at the fleshy tree spreading behind him.

"Make way, let us have it."

The voice carried an undeniable authority.

Allen glanced at him, asked no further questions, and quickly stepped back to make way.

His attacks had no effect on the barrier; now it was up to the church to come up with a solution.

Lu Yuan's hand was still holding the parchment scroll in his arms.

Lu Yuan had already grasped the barrier when Allen attacked it.

But nothing happened.

There were no system notifications, no unusual activity, nothing at all.

It's like an ordinary roll of sheepskin.

Lu Yuan didn't know what this thing was waiting for, but he had no other choice at the moment.

Let's first look at the archbishop's method.

If that still doesn't work...

He glanced at the scroll in his arms.

Then we'll have to open it.

The archbishop did not delay and waved to signal.

One of the larger carriages opened its door, and six stewards filed out.

They carried a white, carved coffin and walked slowly forward, each step taken with utmost solemnity.

The coffin emitted a soft glow, contrasting sharply with the surrounding darkness and bloodshed.

"What is that?" someone asked in a low voice.

No one answered.

The coffin was lowered and the lid was slowly pushed open.

Inside lies an angel statue.

Pure white wings, closed eyes, and clasped hands—every line exudes a sacred aura.

Just lying there quietly made the surrounding air feel heavy.

Lu Yuan felt an invisible pressure emanating from the statue, a feeling similar to when he first entered the church, but stronger and more real.

At the edge of my field of vision, gray and white text danced silently:

[High-level Divine Item Detected: Angelic Vessel (Hibernating)]

【Characteristics: A vessel of divine power, capable of temporarily holding the will of angels】

"Angel vessel..." Old Morgan's voice was a little hoarse as he whispered, "He wants to use the vessel to summon the power of angels."

Lu Yuan recalled what the archbishop had said before: angels cannot cross that boundary without a physical form.

So he brought the vessel, which was also the last trump card of their Grimport Church.

The archbishop walked up to the statue, took out a small silver knife from his pocket, and looked solemn.

He cut his palm, and blood dripped onto the pure white stone surface, the crimson and white intertwining in a shocking sight.

The priests formed a circle, their scriptures open, and began to chant ancient prayers in hushed tones.

The prayers were in a language Lu Yuan couldn't understand, but each syllable seemed to carry some strange power, making the air heavy.

Cracks began to appear on the surface of the statue as the inscription rose and fell.

Those cracks are not signs of damage, but rather traces of some kind of awakening.

Golden light seeped from the crack, growing brighter and brighter until finally the statue's eyes slowly opened.

Those were eyes without pupils, only pure golden light.

Lu Yuan subconsciously held his breath.

A phantom image was peeled off from the stone.

Its golden wings spread out, reaching several meters in height, radiating a scorching holy light.

The light was so dazzling that the people below dared not look directly at it.

The phantom hovered in mid-air, looking down at the crowd below, sacred and majestic.

The black mist that permeated the air was briefly suppressed by the holy light, and the heads that had been calling out "Mother" fell silent for a moment, as if even they were intimidated by this power.

"It's an angel!..." someone exclaimed in a low voice.

Everyone's eyes were fixed nervously on the golden phantom.

Whether we can get out alive depends entirely on the church.

The angelic phantom flew toward the barrier before them, its golden hands pressing against the faintly visible barrier.

Holy light shone brightly.

The barrier began to tremble under the holy light, emitting a low hum.

A crack was slowly torn open.

"It's working!" A voice rang out from the Ascension Clan, filled with suppressed excitement.

The crack is widening, one inch, two inches, three inches...

Lu Yuan sensed that old Morgan beside him breathed a sigh of relief.

Allen, who was looking directly at them from a distance, also relaxed his brow slightly.

Some people in the crowd began to show expressions of relief, as if they had survived a disaster.

"We can go out now..."

"We can get out now..."

A look of joy had just appeared on his face—

The next moment, a large amount of black pus gushed out of the crack.

The pus, as if alive, spread wildly along the crack, and the golden light began to corrode the angelic phantom the moment it touched it.

"No!" Allen's expression changed drastically.

The angel let out a silent scream.

The phantom distorted and deformed, and black spots appeared on the golden wings, as if they had been scorched.

It struggled to break free, but the black pus seemed to be alive, clinging to it tightly and constantly eroding it.

The archbishop's face turned deathly pale instantly.

"No..."

He suddenly bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the scripture in his hand.

The holy light around his body began to surge wildly, continuously flowing towards the statue.

"My lord! Your body cannot withstand this!" a priest exclaimed.

The archbishop ignored him; blood was seeping from his eyes and flowing from the corner of his mouth, but the transmission of holy light did not stop.

Useless.

The angelic phantom continued to darken.

The gold was slowly fading, like a candle flame being swallowed up inch by inch by darkness.

The phantom's struggles grew weaker and weaker, like a bird stuck in the mud, sinking deeper with each flap.

"How is this possible..." the archbishop's voice was filled with despair, "With a vessel, how could the power of an angel be suppressed..."