Chapter 210: God’s Curse

Chapter 210: God’s Curse

As Klein’s spirituality touched it, the point of light abruptly expanded before his eyes into a scene.

Danitz, wrapped in a shadow cloak, was lowering his head in prayer at the edge of the square, reciting The Fool’s honorific name in ancient Hermes.

Using this location, Klein expanded the scene outward and searched for Ince Zangwill.

Everything he saw through the gray fog was clearly different from what he had seen a moment ago. At the center of the square, an enormous cathedral—black as its base and inlaid with bones—had appeared at some unknown time. Light and shadows flickered within from time to time, but no sound emerged.

Seizing the opportunity, Klein responded to Danitz’s prayer:

“Get away from here. Find a concealed place and hide.”

As he spoke in a low, slow voice, Klein, wearing the triple crown and deep blue vestments, raised his left hand, making the blue-green gemstones at the tip of the bone scepter glow.

A sharp, piercing sound immediately echoed through Resurrection Square in the real world. A sudden violent wind howled and swept over the area, forcing people who were leisurely resting or merely passing by to hurriedly leave and seek shelter from the gale. Even Anderson, whose expression had been stiff, returned to his usual careless state, clutching his stomach with one hand and quickly rushing out of the danger zone.

In just a few seconds, Resurrection Square became extremely empty. Even those passersby who were not fast and had not intended to run experienced a sensation close to flying under the push of the gale.

The empty area fell briefly silent. Then, from a window of the cathedral of bones, a point of fire lit up. It grew larger and larger, brighter and brighter.

Silently, the stained-glass window shattered. White-hot light tinged with blue shot out like a meteor.

The firelight collapsed at once, gathering into Ince Zangwill in his black clerical robe, one eye deep blue and the other bloodshot.

The moment this Nightwatcher appeared, his mouth opened uncontrollably, and he let out a derisive “heh” toward the classical quill pen in his hand.

“If not for you, you fool, refusing to listen to my suggestion, how could things have ended up like this?

“I have no idea what you were so afraid of. If you had allowed me to pray to the Lord earlier, secretly return to Rose Redemption, join hands with the great serpent, make preparations, and set a trap, today would have been us hunting Adam—not the reverse!”

The slightly dim and damaged quill pen immediately flew up and wrote on an empty patch of Ince Zangwill’s clothing:

“Out of shame and anger, Sauron Einhorn Medici placed all blame for this incident upon the Quill of Alzuhod. In truth, however, it was He who stopped Himself from praying to the True Creator. Whether Sauron or Einhorn, neither wished to believe in that evil god.

“Today’s encounter has made this evil spirit’s split personality even more severe! This is entirely reasonable. It is the diagnosis made by the most professional and top-ranking psychiatrist!”

“Ince Zangwill’s” brow immediately twitched. By instinct, he raised his left hand and pressed it against his head.

His deep blue eye, nearly black, quickly regained its luster. His classically sculpted face grew extremely grave.

At this moment, after breaking through the cathedral of bones, what lay before him was not the square, but layer upon layer of ancient stone steps. They led to the summit of a towering mountain, where a gigantic cross stood, surrounded by countless circling angels.

Just then, an exaggerated bolt of silver-white lightning pierced through the deep sky and descended straight toward Ince Zangwill.

Cracks immediately appeared across the entire sealed and bizarre space. The square’s fountain and flowers entered that deep-blue eye, almost black.

Ince Zangwill’s figure abruptly disappeared. In his place remained only a transparent, blurry spirit. It was struck by the lightning and…