45: Chapter 45 The Unity of the Eight Virtues! This sword strike ignites the glory of the flame!

Above the sword's edge, the golden Cross Slash condensed and took shape.

At the exact same moment, the column of smoke, charged to its limit by the Anomaly, crashed down with a roar.

In the eye sockets of the ghastly green skull at the top, ghostly flames exploded, transforming into a torrent of dark green energy capable of devouring everything.

Gold and green.

Holiness and decay.

Two diametrically opposed forces collided head-on in the center of the hall.

There was no deafening roar.

There was only an extremely dull "hum," and the entire space was squeezed by the two energies until it buzzed, on the verge of distortion.

A shockwave swept across the eight walls in a ring, and the debris of the remaining murals splashed like a rainstorm.

The stone tiles on the ground were lifted up in their entirety, then ground into powder within the arena where the two forces wrestled.

At the entrance of the corridor, everyone was pushed backward by the blast of air, and the soldiers used their bodies to protect the professor and students behind them.

Section Chief Han Zheng supported himself on one knee, steadying his stance, his gaze locked tightly on the center point of the clash.

His pupils contracted.

The gold was retreating.

That Cross Slash wave, under the frontal assault of the dark green torrent, was being pushed back inch by inch.

Liu Yuyan's arm muscles were tensed to the limit, the veins under her silver arm armor were bulging, and the holy light was wailing.

Her boot heels plowed two deep grooves into the hard stone tiles, and gravel splashed backward from around her feet.

She was reaching her limit.

Just at the critical point where the golden light was about to be completely swallowed by the green flames—

The totem of spark in the center of Liu Yuyan's breastplate suddenly pulsed.

It wasn't activated by her.

It was the will of Elena von Brightshield, sleeping deep within the Kindling, echoing.

"Mercy!" "Humility!" "Honor!" "Sacrifice!" "Awe!" "Loyalty!" "Courage!" "Justice!"

Eight points of light, in less than three seconds, burst into flames one after another like stars!

Eight divine radiances of different textures, yet born from the same source, poured frantically into the Sword of Judgment in her hand!

The Cross Slash wave surged from one meter wide to three meters!

The edges of the originally pure golden light blade were now inlaid with a layer of dazzling halo, nearly materialized, formed by the will of the Eight Virtues.

"—Get back!"

Beneath the helmet, a clear shout rang out.

It crushed back!

The dark green energy torrent, as if encountering a landslide, instantly collapsed.

The golden Cross Slash wave, with an irresistible force, tore apart, crushed, and evaporated every obstacle, inch by inch.

On the Anomaly's waxy face, the green flames in its two ghostly pupils shook violently, revealing a primal panic.

The Cross Slash wave pierced through the last layer of the energy torrent and struck precisely in the center of the Anomaly's gray-white face.

"Crack."

The face split from the center line, and the waxy patterns on both sides crumbled inch by inch.

Golden holy light poured frantically into the crack, spreading rapidly along its dark purple core within.

The Anomaly let out one final shriek.

Short, broken, and off-key.

Its torso began to disintegrate downwards from the face.

The black smoke was vaporized by the holy light, and a dozen green ghost fires, like punctured lanterns, exploded one after another into phosphorus powder filling the sky.

The translucent torso shattered into countless dark purple light spots, evaporating completely in the divine radiance.

The dust settled.

The scarlet light curtain shrouding the hall, as if its power source had been pulled, began to fade away piece by piece from the dome.

On the stone platform, only one floating crystal remained.

Thumb-sized, its surface shrouded in a layer of dark purple cold light, with a ghostly green flame afterimage dancing inside.

The hall sank back into an ancient, tranquil dimness.

The only light source came from the silver-white armor on Liu Yuyan—the holy runes were still flowing with golden radiance, bit by bit, like stars embedded on the surface of the armor, breathing quietly.

...

The hall was silent for a full five seconds.

Zhao Xiaohe was the first person to make a sound.

Not speaking, but a very faint, involuntary intake of breath.

She stared at the silver-white figure standing with a sword, tears still hanging on her face, but her mouth slightly open, her pupils reflecting the golden radiance flowing over the armor.

All the rational voices in her mind—archaeological, materialistic, methodological—fell silent at this moment.

Only one thought remained, pure to the point of being childish:

"So cool."

"So dashing."

"So... want to become that kind of person."

Chen Yiming knelt on the stone tiles on both knees; he didn't even know when he had knelt down.

He looked at the silver-white back, his lips trembling, his eye sockets burning hot.

Professor Zhou took off his glasses.

For the second time.

He didn't wipe them.

He didn't need to see the details clearly.

He had already seen the most perfect answer in his entire archaeological career.

Those figures on the murals slaying demons and eliminating evil were not myths, not legends, not the imagination of the ancients.

"They are... real."

His throat moved twice, dry to the point of hoarseness.

"This is... Kindling."

Five words, like a nail, driven into the air of the hall.

Section Chief Han Zheng stood where he was, his hand clutching the empty magazine slowly relaxing.

The color in his knuckles slowly returning.

He stared at that silver-white figure, at the totem of spark on the breastplate, at the holy runes still slowly flowing with golden radiance on the sword.

Images of the East Sea flashed through his mind—white flames burning the sky, stepping on fire in mid-air.

That time, he was shocked by the terror of the power itself.

This time was different.

This time, he saw a "person."

A new Kindling member, facing an Anomaly of the same level, in order to protect the ten living people behind her, used a sword and a shield to hold on until the last second, gambling everything.

She was not that existence standing thirty meters high in the air, stepping on white flames.

She was—a warrior.

A warrior just like the Bronze Mask.

It's just that what she held in her hand was not a gun.

Wang Hao knelt on the ground.

Not because he was beaten to his knees, but because he knelt down himself.

Tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the stone tiles.

He looked at Liu Yuyan's back, remembering those images when the golden light poured into his mind—

A farmer in coarse clothes gripping an iron rod, a barefoot child with a bronze piece necklace rushing into the fire, a white-haired old woman leaning on a cane walking into a rainstorm.

Now, he had seen a living one with his own eyes.

A holy knight in silver-white armor, gripping a sword and holding a shield, standing in front of everyone.

What surged in his heart was not awe.

It was longing.

A scorching, yearning that almost burned through his chest.

If Su Chen was like a god, making people feel awe.

Then the knight before his eyes was like a goal, making people yearn for it!

...

Liu Yuyan walked onto the stone platform.

She reached out and grasped the floating dark purple crystal into her palm.

The moment the crystal touched her hand, it was icy and bone-chilling, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the holy light.

She tucked the crystal into the pocket of her armor's lining, her movements crisp and decisive.

Then—

Her knees went weak.

She supported herself on one knee on the stone platform, the sword tip propped against the ground, her right hand gripping the hilt tightly to maintain balance.

Beneath the helmet, her forehead was covered in cold sweat, and her vision blurred for a moment.

The Cross Slash had drained almost all of her holy light reserves and stamina.

Her body felt empty, as if someone had drained half the marrow from her bones.

But within half a second, she straightened her body again.

She did not let the people behind her see her vulnerability.

Liu Yuyan turned around, facing the direction of the corridor entrance, the holy light of her silver-white armor receding to the minimum limit, flowing against the surface of the armor.

Her voice came from beneath the helmet, as steady as someone who hadn't just finished a life-or-death battle.

"Eliminated."

Three words.

Clean, restrained, not one word more.

In her heart, however, she let out a long sigh of relief.

First real combat, mission accomplished.

She hadn't brought shame to Kindling.

She was even more grateful for herself for pushing open that old wooden door back then.

The warm, golden light from beneath the crack of that door had changed the trajectory of her entire life.

Just at the moment she turned around, Section Chief Han Zheng took a step forward.

His lips had already organized the wording—this was the opportunity he had waited for a long time.

To face a living, conversable member of Kindling.