The old priest’s hands held energy that made Wen Wen’s hair stand on end, yet it miraculously caused no harm. Instead, he felt a gentle power nourishing his body.
San Zaier and Tao Qingqing also showed no signs of discomfort, appearing to enjoy it instead.
The energy continued to rise endlessly, reaching a level Wen Wen could no longer comprehend.
As the energy peaked, a shattering sound suddenly emanated from the Cup of Divine Blood, followed by a wail inaudible to ordinary ears.
A dark and evil power seeped from the cup, but as soon as it emerged, it was erased by the potent energy.
The old priest let out a sigh and then handed the cup to Wen Wen.
The moment Wen Wen took the cup, the old priest’s body contorted violently, startling Wen Wen, who quickly retreated a couple of steps.
"Is this old guy trying to pull a fast one?"
The old priest was clearly not trying to trick him. His bones shattered inch by inch, his flesh peeled away and then healed, constantly scorched by an inexplicable heat. His teeth fell out one by one, and his eyeballs were crushed into pulp, spraying from his eye sockets…
This sudden torment left the old priest almost unrecognizable. It lasted for nearly a minute before stopping.
Wen Wen estimated that if this transformation happened to him, he would be a goner in ten seconds.
The old priest, now a formless mass, took only two seconds to return to his original state, even the bloodstains on his robes vanishing as if the horrifying spectacle had never occurred.
"Uh… are you alright?" Wen Wen asked softly from a distance.
The old priest sighed faintly, "I’m fine. That was just… the divine attempting to kill me."
The divine wanted to kill him?
What divine was it, the Creator? Then how high was this old man’s standing?
Wen Wen examined the cup in his hands and found that the initially repulsive power was gone.
"What did you do to this cup?"
The old priest chuckled, "I merely returned it to its original form."
"The Holy Son, in his desire to resurrect, stirs up a catastrophe every sixty years, causing countless people to suffer. This cycle must stop now…"
"There will be no more divine blood in this cup, and no more Divine Blood Cup contests…"
"However, the cup itself possesses many divine properties, making it quite valuable to you."
Wen Wen stared for a moment. "You came to find me for this?"
He hadn’t expected someone from the Glorious Church to seek him out specifically, enduring head-numbing pain just to destroy the Divine Blood Cup, an item of great significance to their church.
Why would they do this? Was he a mole too?
The old priest smiled. "I am a priest, but that doesn't mean I support the Glorious Church. I stand only with the suffering common people…"
"Also, if one day you come into conflict with the Glorious Church, and you possess the power to destroy them, please show some mercy."
"Although the church has strayed from its path, they were once a cornerstone supporting the existence of this world. And now, within the church, there are countless young people filled with passion, wanting to make the world a better place."
With that, the old priest leaned on his cane and slowly walked out of the cabin.
Wen Wen hurried after him but found that his figure had already vanished.
"Just… what is his background?"
Wen Wen sat down, pondering for a while, his gaze suddenly sharpening.
The table before him was wrong, the chair was wrong, the glass was also…
No… everything in the plane was wrong!
Everything on the plane now carried a trace of sacred power, giving it a very strange feeling.
According to the Glorious Church, even a water cup on this plane was a sacred artifact!
One could smash a low-level vampire to death by casually throwing a water cup at its forehead!
Sacred artifacts, while precious, were also truly worthless in some respects.
They were precious because only equipment worn by high-level divine casters or paladins for extended periods had the potential to become sacred artifacts.
The power within sacred artifacts could accumulate. Some ancient sacred artifacts possessed immense inherent power and special effects, making them a unique type of containment.
They were worthless because most sacred artifacts, due to insufficient inheritance time, had not retained much power.
At most, they became tougher, possessed additional damage against malevolent beings, and holding them granted immunity to some low-level negative effects.
Wen Wen’s plane, naturally, did not contain such powerful sacred artifacts; they were all the most common ones.
But even so, their sheer number was astounding. Even the wrench in the toolbox, the parachute bag hanging on the wall, and the paper bag used for vomiting were sacred artifacts.
Furthermore, the Glorious Church maintained strict control over sacred artifacts. They were rarely seen outside, and a simple pipe wrench could fetch a considerable sum.
Moreover, the black aircraft, which already possessed supernatural power, had now transformed into a super fighter jet assembled from countless sacred artifacts.
Wen Wen didn’t know the exact extent of the overall improvement, but he knew no one would be extravagant enough to build an entire aircraft from sacred artifacts.
San Zaier’s three eyes blinked, looking at the plane with a hint of eagerness.
Wen Wen exited the cabin and jumped to the ground, discovering that the originally pure black exterior of the plane was now covered in white sacred patterns, appearing mysterious and profound.
But Wen Wen disliked it. With a snap of his fingers, dozens of tiger-like puppets were summoned from the containment facility.
Two of these tiger-like puppets carried large cans of black spray paint.
"You two, use the spray paint to cover those white patterns. Otherwise, if others see them, they’ll think I’m stealing from the Glorious Church."
"The rest of you, level this entire area for me, about… five meters deep, within a thirty-meter diameter circle. Transport everything to the containment facility."
Not only Wen Wen’s plane but also the surrounding soil, rocks, flowers, and trees had been affected by the sacred power, undergoing a certain degree of异化 (abnormal transformation).
While these items had not directly become sacred artifacts like those inside the plane, they were still rare materials, considered a windfall for Wen Wen.
Amidst the surprise, Wen Wen’s doubts deepened: "Just how powerful is that old priest… Xun Ying definitely couldn't do this. Could a spirit realm god in their prime achieve it?"
To resolve his doubts, Wen Wen returned to the containment facility and found Mo Gong.
Mo Gong showed no surprise at his arrival, instead preparing some tea, seemingly expecting him.
However, Mo Gong’s taste in tea was a bit peculiar, with a mixture of various random ingredients.
Wen Wen took a sip and spat it out. Was this stuff fit for human consumption?
"What's that old man's deal?"
Mo Gong showed a nostalgic expression. "I detest the Glorious Church and the Creation Church. However, Old Man Kant is one of the few I don't entirely dislike."
"A thousand years ago, he was known as the Saint in the Eastern Oil Region, dedicated to aiding the suffering. Heh, I even helped him out back then, so we have some history."
Wen Wen nodded and then asked curiously, "And this old priest's strength…"
Mo Gong shrugged. "I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"This old fellow doesn't like fighting, nor does he like displaying his power. In fact, few people other than me know he is Saint Kant."
"But a believer who can glimpse the essence of divinity, how powerful do you think he is?"
Seeing Wen Wen’s surprised expression, Mo Gong added, "Of course, he certainly couldn't defeat me at my peak."
Wen Wen nodded, half understanding. The appearance of this old priest had refreshed his understanding of the Glorious Church’s power.
"This world is far more complex than you realize. Otherwise, the containment facility wouldn't have ended up here, nor would the gaze of the Supreme Rulers be fixed upon this place."
"Don't assume your containment facility makes you invincible. You don't truly know the truth of this world."
…
At the center of the Holy City, within the Sanctuary.
Similar to the Natural Will’s stronghold hidden in the Arctic, the Sanctuary was an independent space attached to reality.
It contained only one large mountain, divided into ten layers, with buildings on each layer.
The structure at the very top was the Pope’s palace.
The holy power here was incredibly dense; ordinary people couldn't survive, and only clerics of a certain strength could enter.
Additionally, numerous angels resided here, able to move freely.
In the vast hall, the Pope sat on his throne, looking down with indifferent eyes.
Below stood four young men, each with only one hand. They were Hosca, whose mouth bore a scar; Winsor, a mole arranged by Wen Wen; and another white-robed cleric with little presence.
"I am very unsatisfied with your actions this time…"
Upon hearing this, the four reacted differently. Hosca's expression was the most direct, openly displaying his resentment.
"Hosca will be transferred to the Inquisition. The rest of you… you still need more training."
"Why the Inquisition? I…"
Before they could finish speaking, they were taken away by several paladins.
Everyone else in the palace knew that Hosca would no longer be a primary focus of the church’s cultivation, while the others still had that opportunity.
Because Hosca’s animosity was too evident, he had been ruined by hatred. Such a person was suitable as a sharp blade, not a leader.
The other three had also performed poorly, but at least they could still be nurtured and might become significant figures within the church in the future.
After the young men had all departed, the Pope’s posture sagged.
"Tell me, what should we do now?"
The missing Cleansing Angel, the heavily wounded Cicada Ancestor, the city that had suffered immense destruction, the damaged ruins of the Creation Church, and the black crosses erected everywhere – each issue was difficult to handle.
The church’s higher-ups were pushing responsibility onto each other. The Pope rubbed his temples, feeling burdened by these useless individuals.