Less than five minutes ago, the arena had still been packed with fully armed, imposing soldiers.

But in the time it took to cook a pack of instant noodles, only onlookers were left around the ring.

Quite a few people who’d come to watch the challenge had bolted the moment the Crusaders flooded in, fleeing the venue on reflex.

With so many spectators gone, the already large space suddenly felt even more open.

And when all those warm bodies took their heat with them, the atmosphere on-site cooled in every sense—quieter, and literally colder.

When he’d first gathered his subordinates, the bishop had planned to use a public execution to get rid of the troublesome Wang Xiaole, and by the way build up his prestige in the hearts of the citizens.

Yet in just a few minutes,

the execution had turned into a slap in the face, and he had no idea whose prestige had actually been established.

Those who left early were better off—they didn’t have to see what just happened.

But the ones who loved drama more than anything and stayed behind had just gotten fresh gossip.

By tomorrow—no, it wouldn’t even take until tomorrow—a certain bit of news would spread across the whole city:

that the mighty Cardinal couldn’t even mobilize his own troops, that they didn’t take him seriously at all, and had “collectively disobeyed his orders.”

And the one who’d openly gone against the bishop wasn’t just anyone, but the Holy Maiden of the Papal State herself.

And the Holy Maiden had done all this for a complete stranger whose background was a mystery!

The amount of information packed into this single conflict was honestly too much. Some of the spectators were already feeling like they couldn’t quite process it.

In fact, the bishop ought to count himself lucky.

Wang Xiaole still appeared before everyone in the form of a girl. If the crowd ever found out that

this stranger the Holy Maiden had gone all-out to protect was actually also a man,

the “news” would instantly upgrade into a scandal...

“Sorry for the interruption. Just pretend I was never here. Do as you please from here on.”

After helping Wang Xiaole take care of one problem, Cai had no intention of continuing to stand there under all those stares.

She’d come here for one reason: to make sure the one she loved could use his sword without any issues.

Now that Wang Xiaole was swinging that black longsword with practiced ease, her purpose here was fulfilled.

Having decided to leave, she slipped back into her usual humble demeanor.

She bowed toward Wang Xiaole on the stage, then began to step backwards, facing the platform and retreating toward the entrance without turning around.

Wang Xiaole had something to say to her.

“‘As I please’? So you mean, whoever I end up killing in this match next, you won’t have any objections, Cai?”

That “whoever” obviously meant the Cardinal. There wasn’t a third person left standing in the ring.

Leaving aside the feelings they’d built up living together these last few days, just for what Cai had done for him just now, Wang Xiaole felt he had to ask for her opinion.

From the moment he stepped onto the stage, the boy had already decided: it wasn’t enough to defeat the bishop.

He had to go all the way and make sure the man died on this platform.

But the bishop was technically Cai’s colleague. Wang Xiaole worried she’d have a hard time explaining things once she got back to the Papal State, so he asked anyway.

“If you kill him, you kill him. Just remember to tell whoever has to clean up the mess ‘sorry’ afterward.”

Cai still didn’t stop walking or turn around as she replied. She looked up at the person on the stage, multitasking as she gave her answer.

The line wasn’t even that long, and by the time the last word left her lips, her figure had already slipped away into the crowd at the back.

Thinking, “She’s not the type to bump into anyone,” Wang Xiaole felt at ease about her departure.

Compared to when the Crusaders were gathering, the situation now wasn’t all that different.

Only two people stood on the stage, facing each other. And whether or not the bishop still had the will to fight, Wang Xiaole had already decided that he’d make the man’s blood spill right here.

Anyone who dared, in front of him, to announce they planned to lay hands on his disciple—no matter who they were—wasn’t someone a teacher could ever let slide.

The bishop was exactly that kind of person.

On the opposite side of the ring, the bishop’s mood was complicated.

He’d never been the type to be hot-blooded. He was, however, extremely vindictive, and absolutely refused to let anyone who crossed him go.

Wanting revenge was one thing. How to get it was the problem.

With his rank as a high bishop, summoning the Crusaders again wouldn’t be hard.

But after they’d already turned back once, there was no guarantee the Holy Maiden wouldn’t show up a second time.

What if she suddenly came back?

Wouldn’t that just replay the scene from earlier?

The dignified bishop, getting “slapped” twice by the Holy Maiden in front of thousands, with the sound ringing out loud and clear?

What, was the first beating not enough to swell his face?

He might not care about dignity, but he at least cared about his vanity.

He had no intention of doing something that would damage his own image twice.

So any plan involving military strength was doomed to fail.

With no other options, the bishop, burning for revenge, could only rely on another external power.

“Peasant, you brought this on yourself! If you’d obediently let the Crusaders cut off your head, your body would’ve suffered a lot less. After this... don’t blame me!”

Muttering to himself, he let an unprecedented viciousness flash through his eyes.

In the next instant, he flung his white sleeve up. As its cuff lifted, even the sunlight high above the dome of the sky seemed to blaze brighter.

The relaxed clouds suddenly twisted tight, condensing and coiling into spinning masses, like vortexes whipped up in water.

The clouds all over the sky shifted shape. As they changed into the same pattern, they seemed to arrange themselves into some special formation.

Thanks to his own understanding of magic, Wang Xiaole immediately realized:

those clouds hanging overhead had combined into a six-pointed star array.

Pentagrams, hexagrams, even heptagrams—these were all types of summoning arrays.

The three formations represented three grades of summoning, with the pentagram at the bottom, then the hexagram, and the heptagram the highest.

Back then, for the sake of proving that the other world also had humans, Isabella had used a hexagram array to summon someone from Xiaole’s own Heavenly Dynasty over to the Allied Continent.

From that alone, it wasn’t hard to see

just how high-level a summoning array the hexagram really was.

In most small or mid-sized countries, even if a king rallied all the court magicians in the land, they still might not be able to create a summoning array higher than a pentagram.

But there was a catch.

The fact that the bishop could call forth a hexagram array on his own didn’t mean his personal magic was that powerful.

In truth, this summoning array appearing in the sky was a kind of “benefit” granted by the Pope.

The Four Cardinals counted as top brass within the Papal State. Naturally, the Pope worried about their personal safety.

To avoid having one of them die some day in some strange, inexplicable way, he’d decided to give them an extra layer of insurance.

Back when all four had been granted their rank as Cardinals, the Pope had embedded a “instant-cast” summoning array into each of their bodies.

Which meant:

the Cardinal was now borrowing the Pope’s power, using an external force here in the ring.

“If no one finds out, it doesn’t count as cheating.”

The bishop wholeheartedly believed in this logic and so used this cheat with a clear conscience.

(Quietly) “That damned Holy Maiden’s gone. Even if I borrow His Holiness the Pope’s magic, no one will know, and no one can expose me.”

With external power on his side, the bishop became even more brazen than before.

Above, the six-pointed star array suddenly erupted with dozens of yards of white light in the span of a few quick, panicked breaths from the crowd.

Vast divine power surged together, making the very air shudder as if an earthquake had climbed into the sky.

All at once, a blazing “shooting star” fell from the heavens, crashing down with unstoppable momentum.

As the tail of the “meteor” flared brighter, it felt like the air around the arena was scattering, fleeing in all directions.

The moment it hit with a thunderous impact, dense light element burned through space itself, leaving even the emptiness above the bishop’s head faintly charred.

The white light broke apart into tightly interwoven arcs, forming a glowing ring that swept sharply outward.

Only then did people realize the “meteor” wasn’t as big as they’d imagined—at most, it covered a bit over half the ring.

The light surged like a raging flood, pouring straight into the bishop’s body.

As the white radiance slowly faded, a being out of legend appeared.

Silver armor pushed the air aside. Trembling wings whipped up spiraling winds.

A tall, male figure, half-real, half-illusory, came into view before everyone’s eyes.

An angel.

More precisely, an angelic phantom had descended over the arena.

It was only a projected image of a real angel from a higher plane; still, regardless of how one understood it, the fact remained:

the divine realm had answered the hexagram’s call.

“The Church of the Supreme God speaks for the gods”—

this slogan wasn’t just for show.

Back when the Church was founded, the first Pope had come to an agreement with the divine realm.

Each generation’s Pope, as the gods’ highest representative, would organize bishops, clerics, and other subordinates to spread doctrine in the mortal world and bring the gods more followers.

As long as these new believers felt genuine worship in their hearts, that emotion could be converted into a portion of power for the gods and angels.

The Church of the Supreme God’s mission was to help the divine realm strengthen its power of “faith.”

In return, the divine realm granted the Church authority equal to secular crowns, and would, at crucial moments, answer summons made through a hexagram.

Now, relying only on this projection from the divine realm, every citizen still standing in the arena found themselves unable to withstand the pressure pouring from this higher lifeform. One after another they dropped to their knees.

Even Sister Glasses, who wasn’t weak at all, had to grit her teeth and endure to keep her earlier straight-backed posture—otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to stand at all.

Wang Xiaole’s expression and bearing stayed the same as before, but the bishop was sure

the kid was only forcing himself to act calm, having a hard time keeping up the act.

“Hmph. Laughable peasant. Clinging to your pride while you suffer—what good does it do? You can’t swap pride for your life.”

In his little game of “cat and mouse,” the bishop, who fancied himself the “cat,” had played enough.

He was now determined to borrow the divine realm’s power and slice Wang Xiaole in half right in front of everyone.

“Die, peasant—”

“Stop!”

Ever since he’d been shouted to a halt the first time, the bishop had been mentally scarred.

Now, whenever similar words rang in his ears, his body automatically froze mid-move.

He turned his head toward the voice. He had no idea who had spoken.

Wang Xiaole, however, tilted his head a moment sooner. He knew exactly who it was.

A girl who didn’t look particularly bright appeared in both their fields of vision. She raised her head and called out to one of them.

“Xiaole, that skeevy guy’s cheating! The summoning array he used just now wasn’t something he laid down himself.”

“...”

The bishop fell silent because he suddenly realized

he really should’ve checked the calendar before leaving the house today.

This day was absolutely not suitable for going out.