204: The most evil heresy in history

A six-winged Cherubim, holding a codex and radiating the light of wisdom, whose domain was "Order" and "Decree."

Every sacred syllable it uttered transformed into tangible golden chains, attempting to bind and dismantle a massive "Plague Archdemon" that darted through shadows and clouds of pestilence.

The Plague Archdemon's domain was "Decay" and "Pestilence"; the toxic clouds emanating from its body could slowly corrode even divine light, dimming the angels' luminous wings and slowing their movements.

At the boundary where their domains met, space presented a bizarre, rotten-oil-painting-like color, with rules mutually contaminating and twisting, forming a strange zone where even the flow of time became unstable.

Another six-winged Throne Angel, driving a chariot made of pure holy light, crushed the void as its wheels rolled, leaving behind trails of pristine holy light.

Its opponent was a "Howling Soul Lord" seemingly formed from countless screaming souls, whose domain was "Mental Contamination" and "Soul Extraction."

Each clash between the two erupted in silent soul shrieks and mental storms, affecting all beings with weaker wills within range. Whether angels or demons, they would instantly fall into madness, attacking everything around them indiscriminately.

Every engagement between these high-tier beings left indelible scars on the ravaged land of Vatican.

The earth was torn open into bottomless canyons, through which molten rock flowed or chaotic energy surged.

The sky was covered in a web of spatial crack, some slowly healing and flickering with holy light or demonic flames, while more continued to expand, spewing forth storms, frost, and even bizarre starlight from other planes.

Buildings?

They no longer existed!

Even the bedrock of St. Peter's Basilica, the most solid foundation, was disintegrated into the finest dust by the aftershocks of the Power of Rule.

The entire battlefield was a constantly torn, contaminated, and reshaped miniature plane on the verge of collapse!

Ordinary supernaturals here were not even cannon fodder; the omnipresent spatial rifts, rampant Xenomorph energies, and the oppressive will of high-tier beings in the battlefield environment alone were enough to easily obliterate them.

At the shattered fringes of the battlefield, amidst the broken walls and crumbling ruins barely untouched by the aftershocks of high-tier combat, the surviving humans—once high-ranking, devout saints, Cardinals, knights, and nuns—cowered in the abyss of despair.

They had witnessed the opening of the Gate of Heaven, and at that moment, they believed salvation had arrived, that God had heard their fervent prayers and sent the Angel Legion to cleanse the defilement and save His people.

Before their tears of ecstasy had dried, cold reality delivered the cruelest blow.

They discovered with terror that the descending Angel Legion's eyes were fixed only on the Aliens and demons exuding a Fallen Creature aura, and on that Gate of Hell!

Their sacred and powerful might, while purifying defilement, also acted like a merciless millstone, crushing everything in their combat path!

Whether Aliens, demons, or these "faithful servants," all were mercilessly crushed!

"No! Angel Lord! We are believers! We are the Lord's lambs!"

A Cardinal in the ruins waved a tattered holy emblem, trying to attract the attention of a four-winged Power Angel in the sky.

However, the Power Angel was fully engaged, swinging its light-forged warhammer at a charging abyssal beast.

The shockwave from their collision spread like a tsunami.

The Cardinal and the half-collapsed bell tower he was hiding in, along with his desperate cries, were instantly torn to shreds by the violent energy, leaving no trace.

"Why? Why even us..."

A young nun, clutching the cold corpse of her companion, watched as a holy light judgment, accidentally diverted by the clash of high-tier angel and demon lord domains, fell like a sword of divine punishment, vaporizing all remaining buildings and dozens of survivors hiding within them, along with a few unlucky low-tier demons, within several hundred meters in front of her.

After the blinding white light, only a massive, glassy-edged lava pit remained.

The nun's pupils dilated with extreme fear, the pillar of her faith collapsing before her eyes.

Extreme fear, squeezed by the instinct for survival and the collapse of faith, quickly fermented into the most virulent hatred!

"It's him! It's that damned heretic! Lin Feng!"

An old priest, with a broken leg, leaning against a charred holy statue, screamed with all his might, his cloudy eyes filled with bloodshot fury and insane hatred.

"He brought those filthy Aliens! He attracted the demons! He desecrated the holy land! He... he made the Angel Lords ignore us too! He turned the holy city into a slaughterhouse for gods and devils! He is the source of all evil! The most wicked heretic in history!"

This scream ignited a fuse.

"Lin Feng! You devil who deserves to go to hell!"

"Curse you! May your soul burn in purgatory for eternity!"

"If not for you, we would still be serving under the Lord's glory! You destroyed everything!"

"Heretic! Demon! May you die a terrible death!"

Curses, one after another, filled with endless malice and despair, echoed from various corners of the battlefield's edge.

The surviving saints poured all their fear, all their pain, all the rage of their collapsed faith, onto the name that had not appeared in person at this moment, yet seemed omnipresent—Lin Feng.

They forgot the terror of the Alien Queen, forgot the erosion of the Fallen Creature domain, and even temporarily forgot the divine and demonic aftershocks that could fall at any moment and turn them to ash.

At this moment, cursing the "heretic" who dragged them into this endless hell became their only mental outlet.

They used the most vicious language, the most devout power of faith, to curse the existence in the ethereal, wishing Lin Feng to fall into the abyss forever, never to recover!

However, their curses, amidst the deafening roars of gods and devils, the wails of shattering space, and the roar of colliding energies, seemed so faint, so ridiculous.

Like ants speaking to destruction, they were eroded by Fallen Creature aura and the power of assimilation into decay.

Their bodies began to twist, dark red blotches grew on their skin, their eyes became hollow and insane, and finally, screaming, they joined the ranks of the indiscriminately attacking Fallen Creatures wandering the battlefield's edge, becoming new nourishment for this land of death.

Many more were not "lucky" enough to be transformed.

A stray holy light arrow from the sky, diverted by high-tier combat, or a storm of Xenomorph energy gushing from a spatial rift, or merely a large-scale desecration aura unintentionally released by a demon lord... these insignificant "stray bullets" easily took their fragile lives.

They either turned to ash in the golden holy light.

Ironically, this holy light was supposed to be their salvation.

Or were torn apart in the chaotic energy storm, or withered and died in the blasphemous whispers.

In their last moments of life, the name they murmured was still that one cursed a million times... Lin Feng.