I impersonated God in America

However, he had a feeling he couldn't quite describe.

Is this the power of faith?

Perhaps every era has its share of such people.

I'll probably never forget you, unknown bishop.

Regardless of the outcome, the bishop who voluntarily went forward today is, in my opinion, undoubtedly a saint.

"It has to stop!" Wenban began to pray silently.

At the same time, Tarask still raised its limbs, causing the ground to shake violently, debris to fly everywhere, and half of the street to collapse under the impact of its forelimbs. The terrifying force of the impact was visible to the naked eye.

"F*** it! It charged forward!"

Smoke and dust billowed up, a far cry from the scene they had hoped for.

Tarasque did not slow down at all and continued to chase after the old bishop.

"Where is he! Where is the bishop!" Wenban was so anxious he almost stood up.

The word "It's over" has been flooded with comments on the screen.

Wen Ban's heart sank. He stared at the cloud of dust, his voice low: "To be run over like that, I'm afraid..."

He couldn't continue.

boom!

The next moment, he found that Tarask had come to an instant, as if he had hit a wall, and his high-speed movement had stopped instantly.

Boom!

A muffled thud reverberated, and although Tarask's body came to a stop, the kinetic energy it carried did not dissipate.

Rumble!

The destructive power, finding no outlet, exploded to both sides the instant of contact, and a visible white shockwave spread outwards from the stationary center.

Countless dust, rubble, and broken walls were swept into the sky.

The houses on both sides collapsed under the pressure of the shock wave, and the broken walls were blown away like pieces of paper.

Wen Ban, high above, felt a gust of wind rush towards him, and almost dropped the camera in his hand.

The pressure on the ground did not lessen at all; the unreleased force forced a huge dent into the ground, which then cracked outwards and spread out like a spider web.

Rumble.

A blanket of smoke and dust swept everything away.

Wenban said blankly.

"It stopped?"

----------

"I'm alive?!"

Amidst the smoke and dust, Paul seemed somewhat incredulous.

When he realized that the cross had failed to stop Tarasque, he understood that he might be going to meet God sooner than expected, so he closed his eyes and accepted his fate peacefully.

He still felt a little regretful in the last second of his life.

If Tarask reacts, even just one more minute will buy everyone a chance to escape.

but now……

He turned his eyes forward.

Amidst the smoke and dust, a slender hand came into view.

With its five fingers spread wide, it firmly held Tarasque's massive head, preventing it from advancing an inch.

Could it be?!

As the smoke and dust dissipated, he was able to see a somewhat illusory figure from behind, following the direction of the arm.

Her long hair flowed freely, covering the coarse cloth robe beneath.

The other person didn't turn around, but just slightly tilted their head, seemingly glancing in his direction.

"Are you OK?"

The cloths that Bishop Paul was wearing were so hot they could be described as burning, and the cross seemed to have reached its extreme; all these phenomena seemed to be verifying the identity of the person in front of him.

Looking at the figure in front of him, he murmured unconsciously.

"You are... Saint Martha..."

Chapter 144 Winning People Over with Virtue

"No way? What kind of insane physical strength is this?"

The smoke and dust on the screen had cleared, allowing everyone to clearly see the figure in front of Bishop Paul.

Although he was extremely small in front of that mountain-sized behemoth, in stark contrast, the figure made it impossible for the behemoth to move an inch with just one hand.

"Could this be some kind of special ability?"

"It doesn't seem like it."

"Is everything concentrated in one place the best?"

Hearing the discussion around him, Charles was the first to react and asked the analyst next to him, "Has the data come out yet?"

The analyst next to him was typing frantically, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Based on its observed size, this thing weighs at least two million tons, and the speed at which it charged just now..."

"Added together, the kinetic energy of that attack just now was equivalent to the energy of a tactical nuclear bomb."

Clang!

Charles stood up in shock, causing the chair behind him to fall to the ground.

"You mean that figure intercepted that level of power with just one hand?"

This is simply beyond their comprehension.

After all, force is relative. They couldn't imagine how exaggerated the body density of that figure would be to withstand such a level of impact.

Everyone stared at the slender figure on the screen, feeling a chill creep up their spines.

If it weren't somewhat inappropriate, they would even say they were monsters in human skin.

"And if I'm not mistaken, this should be Saint Martha, right?"

They knew quite a bit about Saint Martha; according to legend, it was this saint who subdued Tarasque before them.

"only……"

Looking at the scene before him, the assistant remarked somewhat inappropriately, "Isn't the legend that Saint Martha used the cross and holy water to convert Tarasque?"

"Why is it that this scene doesn't quite seem like the way to win people over with virtue?"

"Ahem, how dare you!"

"Indeed, it was less of a persuasion and more of a punch."

"Could this person in front of me be..."

He didn't finish speaking because the image on the screen suddenly changed.

Tarasque seemed to find itself unable to move easily. A dim yellow light seeped from the gaps in its scales, its massive body tensed, and its four claws dug deep into the ground.

"Ow!"

Then it suddenly raised its head and let out a roar.

The ground beneath Tarask's feet seemed to have been grabbed by a corner and suddenly lifted, transforming into a massive wave of earth that surged forward, overwhelming everything in its path.

The earth, carrying rubble, broken walls, and dilapidated lampposts, slammed down like a giant, overturned hand towards the direction of Bishop Paul and that figure.

"Wasn't it tamed?"

Do you think it looks like it?

Rumble!!!

----------

Paul looked at the overwhelming waves of dust, his heart leaping into his throat.

But there was nothing he could do about it; all he could do was grip the cross in his hand tighter.

Hey.

Saint Martha stood in front of him and pulled her hand out with terrifying speed, even carrying a hint of wind pressure.

Then he saw his opponent take a step forward with one foot, lower his center of gravity, and slightly arch his back, a standard bow stance for throwing a punch.

The right hand that had just blocked Taras's charge was pulled back to his waist, the five fingers clenched into a fist.

Boom!!

Then, black matter surged from her fist, coiling, gathering, compressing, and finally tightly wrapping around the surface of her fist.

Hey.

It appears to be excessive condensation, causing the black area to collapse as if it were a star about to explode.

Concentrate all the energy into an infinitesimally small point.

The light from all around was absorbed, the light was distorted, the dust swirled up, and even the air trembled.

Paul's eyes widened suddenly.

Wait, could this ability be from that guy with the silk threads?

After all, he had seen the footage of the aftermath of the Trickle Island incident, so he was naturally aware of the black substance that the Thread Man exhibited during the fight with the Minotaur.

Based on subsequent speculation, they suspect that this is a kind of enhancement power that can be attached to both physical strength and weapons.

But compared to that man with the silk threads...

Paul's back was covered in a cold sweat.

The difference in strength is too great.

They're not even in the same league.

He watched Saint Martha's retreating figure, her coarse cloth robe motionless in the wind.

Her posture, her aura, and the collapsing blackness surrounding her created a stark contrast with the imposing presence before her.

The next moment, he saw that the other person had already pushed his fist forward.

The fist, wreathed in collapsing darkness, faced the towering waves of earth and the massive, mountain-like figure that surged forward.

They went to greet them.

------------

Edge of the ruins of Tarascon.

Wen Ban's camera was fixed on the cloud of smoke and dust; he almost forgot to breathe.

"Brothers, did you see that? That Tarask still has energy left."

Before he could finish speaking, he saw the slender figure make a fist-throwing motion.

Then a white light shone.

It made him instinctively cover his eyes.

"Damn it, I should have kept the sunglasses I used to watch the eclipse last time."

From the center of the smoke and dust, a white shockwave suddenly exploded outwards, followed by a deafening roar that nearly shattered eardrums.

buzzing.

Immediately afterwards, a shockwave swept horizontally across the entire area behind Tarask.

The shockwave carried away rubble, broken walls, and trees that had been uprooted.