I impersonated God in America

Wenban's mouth could barely close.

"Oh My God!?"

The earth was cracking and crumbling.

A bottomless rift valley extends forward from the point of impact.

The earth's crust on both sides of the rift valley turned upwards, revealing houses, streets, and entire urban areas on the ground.

The rift valley collapsed, tilted, and slid down on both sides.

The shockwave caused a section of the Rhône River to begin shifting laterally.

Then it becomes completely disconnected from the river water upstream and downstream.

However, countless pebbles blocked the river channel, causing the remaining water to overflow in all directions.

The shockwave continued to travel backward, shearing the summit of a mountain horizontally to reveal a smooth horizontal surface.

Boom!

The final shockwave shot into the sky, creating a huge hole in the clouds that took a long time to heal.

Wen Ban stood frozen in place: "That punch..."

Are we really the same species as this saint?

The chat was equally silent.

Then, Wen Ban suddenly narrowed his eyes again.

The smoke and dust completely dissipated.

Tarask's massive body swayed and took two steps back, its scales cracked and falling off in large pieces.

"Wait, what's this guy?!"

Wen Ban's tone was full of disbelief, and he repeated it again, which was rare for him.

"F*** it! This guy actually survived that punch?!"

"That's incredibly thick-skinned!"

"Be careful, this guy might continue... um..."

He had expected an even more frenzied attack to follow.

But the ferocity in Tarask's eyes began to fade, replaced by an unparalleled clarity.

So... this punch woke him up?

[The little jailer looks like he just woke up; he's a bit grumpy when he first gets up.]

[Um, was Saint Martha really just an ordinary village girl in her lifetime?]

I strongly suspect that the other person was a martial artist before becoming a believer.

Tarask swayed and stumbled forward a step.

Then, under everyone's gaze, he bowed down, kneeling on all four knees, his head hanging low.

It moved closer to the ground in front of Saint Martha, gently touching the feet of that slender figure.

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

Charles broke out in a cold sweat as he looked at the colossal beast bowing down at Saint Martha's feet.

He now knows how the ancients tamed Tarasque.

"Speaking of which, if Tarask is subdued, does that mean Taraskorn will have a real guardian?!"

"Well, that's their church, what does it have to do with us?"

"No, no, no, I mean, it's good to rest in the shade of a tree. Can we take advantage of this and expand the area?"

"Brother, report to the Ministry of Finance tomorrow."

"I'm more concerned about that punch just now... If I'm not mistaken, isn't the center of the fist a bit illogical?"

Collapse?!

What a joke!

The assistant's mind was filled with the memory of that punch, and he couldn't help but sigh.

"Now I believe all the ancient legends about moving mountains and filling seas."

"Fun fact: Saint Martha was just a saint."

"That's an exaggeration."

Chapter 145 Inheritance and Blood Disaster Speculation

Bishop Paul looked at the back of St. Martha in front of him.

It's completely unimaginable that such a powerful attack came from this frail body.

"Next."

"After I leave, this place will be in your hands."

Tarasque let out a sob.

Under Bishop Paul's incredulous gaze, it slowly twisted its massive body.

Immediately afterward, the ground transformed into a stream of water, rippling outwards and engulfing its body layer by layer.

Scales, back, and finally the lion's head sank into the ground, and the earth closed up, returning to its original smooth state.

Bishop Paul stood aside, staring in disbelief.

[How did such a massive beast just disappear into the ground like that?]

No, he suddenly thought of something more important, if it really was as Saint Martha had instructed.

Doesn't that mean the church will have a regionally specific patron saint?

This guy is at least on par with the lava giants of Mount Vesuvius.

You see, the guy in front of you is just a "roadside" in front of Saint Martha, but what should you call him once he's outside this door?

The sacred beast Tarask!

“Your name is Paul, right?” Hearing the voice from ahead, Bishop Paul turned his attention back and saw that Saint Martha had already turned around.

The other person was dressed in a coarse cloth robe. Although he was stunningly beautiful, just like his voice, he gave off an extremely serious feeling.

She seems to be the serious type.

Bishop Paul's thoughts flashed for a moment, then he remembered the question the other person had just asked, and subconsciously answered, "Yes."

"You have the heart of a saint."

Hearing St. Martha's praise, Bishop Paul was slightly taken aback, and then the other party continued.

"I just saw it, the cross, that path to certain death, aren't you afraid of dying?"

Paul shook his head: "It's what I should do."

He saw a faint hint of approval flash in Saint Martha's eyes before she continued speaking.

"Only with sufficient purity can one go further on the road. This time, it was thanks to you that the relics from Lhasa Road were preserved so well that I had the opportunity to sell them."

Bishop Paul was no stranger to this name.

Legend has it that the other party was Saint Martha's younger brother, who was resurrected by the Holy Son after her death.

It is said that he later went to Cyprus, became a local bishop, and dedicated the rest of his life to missionary work.

The cloth strip was the item he carried after being resurrected.

[Is it because it was placed inside that mirror space that less energy was lost from within?]

It was this coincidence and their bond that brought the other person back from the legend.

Thinking about this, Bishop Paul didn't know how to comment.

It has a sense that everything we do is preordained.

As Bishop Paul watched Saint Martha begin to disappear, he was about to step forward and say something when she clearly interrupted him first, raising her hand and a ball of black light appeared in her palm before floating toward Bishop Paul.

He had clearly recognized the source of this power.

[Is it the same power you used just now?]

To be honest, Bishop Paul wasn't really keen on accepting it.

In his view, although he was not over seventy years old like Bishop Giovanni, he was still a man of great stature.

But having passed his prime, perhaps it would be better to pass this power on to some younger priests.

The ball of light touched Paul the instant it made contact.

Boom!

Paul felt a jolt in his mind, and then a flood of memories rushed into his head.

He saw one ascetic after another, training their bodies under waterfalls, on mountaintops, and in all sorts of environments.

With a deluge of knowledge poured into him, he couldn't help but mutter, "Qi?"

Paul opened his eyes and turned his gaze back to the ruins.

He looked down at his hands, and as he manipulated them, a layer of black substance covered his palms. He could clearly feel his physical strength increasing.

"I'm leaving now. This is all I can leave you."

Saint Martha's body began to become ethereal, just like Saint Longinus before her. Light points, like ribbons, were transmitted to Paul's palm, outlining a holy mark.

"The war that follows will depend on you."

war?

Bishop Paul was about to ask further when he saw that Saint Martha seemed to understand his meaning and shook her head.

He stopped asking questions and instead bent down heavily.

Just as she was about to completely dissipate, Saint Martha suddenly stopped, turned around and looked at him, her tone grave:

"Paul."

"There's one more thing, remember it."

"The source of power for that guy who manipulated blood and ambushed you earlier is rather strange."

"It feels somewhat familiar. I must be careful."

The words fell.

Above the clouds, sunlight shone through a gap onto her face.

Golden light illuminated her face, and as if guiding her, she was bathed in the light, transforming into countless tiny specks of light that slowly dissipated in the wind.

Silence returned to the ruins.

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

"They actually left Tarasque to the church."

Inside the meeting room, looking at Bishop Paul, who remained alone amidst the ruins, Charles's voice was almost overflowing with envy.

Although there were some speculations, when it actually happened, it still...

You have to understand, that's a monster that's almost comparable to the military power of a medium-sized country.

Previously, it might have been said that the church did not have enough military strength, but now they have been shown what it means to be an army by one person.

If quantity doesn't work, then quality will.

"In addition, the church has gained another stigmata holder."

Listening to the assistant's words, everyone couldn't help but recall the time when Giovanni had taken action on Mount Vesuvius.

According to their analysis, those who possess the Stigmata can temporarily and significantly enhance their extraordinary abilities, making them practically human mini-nuclear bombs.

"Damn it, France still got nothing."