Our next meeting

At that⁠‌‌‍⁠‌⁠‍‍​⁠‍​​⁠⁠‌⁠‍⁠⁠⁠‍‌ moment, it wasn’t just Huo Xianfeng who noticed him—everyone else did too. They looked as though they were staring at some unspeakably horrifying entity and, without hesitation, fell to their knees, their backs trembling.

“Your… Your Holiness…”

Even the medical team, which had been frantically attending to Bernard, stopped what they were doing and prostrated themselves, trembling uncontrollably.

Cecilia broke into a cold sweat and unconsciously swallowed hard.

Bernard’s importance—and that of the clone—was beyond question. Now, one was half-dead, and the other seemed moments from death. And on top of that, this incident had drawn the attention of His Holiness himself.

Mandala, still standing with his hooked claw lodged in the young man’s chest, hadn’t knelt yet. But the reactions of those around him made it abundantly clear what had just happened. A chill ran down his spine, and cold sweat soaked his back. Before he could act, a crisp sound echoed from the young man’s chest.

Snap!

Mandala froze.

It was the sound of his bone claw being broken.

But Huo Xianfeng had no time to spare for Mandala. His attention was entirely on the Pope, who slowly extended a hand toward him and clenched the air.

Whoosh—!

Countless blood-red Holy Stigmatas erupted from the young man’s chest, surging forth in quantities that vastly exceeded the size of his body. The hooked claw of the S-class mecha Greedy Wolf was effortlessly shattered, its fragments clattering to the ground.

Mandala didn’t dare utter a single word. He quickly turned, knelt, and pressed his forehead to the ground, not even daring to glance upward.

Huo Xianfeng, meanwhile, was completely immobilized. He couldn’t move a single finger—he was more restrained than when Mandala had him pinned earlier. The blood-red Holy Stigmatas had transformed into countless shackles, binding him tightly and pulling him toward the Pope’s grasp.

Snap!

The teenager’s neck was caught firmly in that enormous hand.

Huo Chao’s clone, only thirteen or fourteen years old and barely 1.6 meters tall, was dwarfed by the nearly three-meter-tall Pope. The stark contrast in their sizes, along with the collision of blood-red and pristine white, created a scene that looked extremely bizarre and grotesque.

The Pope paid no attention to anyone else below, not sparing them so much as a glance. He simply leaned down, studying the youthful, pain-filled face of Huo Chao with an unsettling intensity.

Huo Xianfeng stared into those strange, lifeless white pupils as they drew closer, and then he heard the Pope speak softly:
“Is it you who has returned, my child?”

Buzz!

In that instant, Huo Xianfeng felt as though his brain had been struck with a heavy blow. The final lock on the doors of his memory shattered, revealing a chaotic, surreal cascade of shadows.

That night, when the Zerg King’s corruption reached nearly 99% percent, Huo Chao had fought his way to the Holy Relic White Tower.

Huo Xianfeng vividly remembered Huo Chao, drenched in blood, kneeling before him and crying out in desperation:
[Wait for me… Please wait for me…]
[Xiaofeng…]

By that point, Huo Xianfeng could no longer speak. He could only give his friend one last gift of protection.

In the past, he could connect with Huo Chao, but he had never integrated him into the Zerg spiritual network. To Huo Xianfeng, Huo Chao had been little more than a tool—a device akin to a mecha that allowed him to observe human society.

But on that day, the last command Huo Xianfeng gave his people, besides revenge, was this:

— Do not harm his friend.

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[Huo Chao, would you really kill your godfather for the sake of a monster?]

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There was a faint trace of amusement in the Pope’s tone, as though he were observing a child’s foolish yet amusing antics.

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[From among so many children, this godfather chose you. He raised you, provided you with the best resources, elevated you to a position above the masses, lavished you with unparalleled affection, and even bestowed upon you the only 3S-class mecha in existence—Forbidden Abyss, the most treasured weapon of the Illusory God Churvh.]

[Huo Chao, I gave you so, so much, not so that you could use everything I gave you…]

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[The Zerg army is indeed terrifying. Humanity cannot resist them, but that doesn’t mean there are no options.]

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[Huo Chao, all the people you care about are human. And now, Earth is fated to become a graveyard. So think carefully…]

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The Pope didn’t wait for Huo Chao’s response. That ethereal, androgynous voice sighed softly, almost mockingly.

[Huo Chao, you have no choice.]

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“You are not Huo Chao—!”

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The young man snapped back to reality and saw those strange white pupils magnify before his eyes, staring intently at him.

“Who are you?!”

“I—I am…”

But in his current body, with his neck gripped tightly by the Pope, Huo Xianfeng couldn’t speak. He shut his eyes, deliberately displaying a pained, suffocating expression, gasping out broken fragments of words—carefully omitting the critical answer.

The Pope, narrowing his gaze, relaxed his grip slightly and asked again,
“You are…?”

Buzz—!

A cold gleam flashed.

Huo Xianfeng suddenly pulled out a dagger and plunged it into the Pope’s left eye.

Squish!

Blood splattered everywhere.

Unfortunately, the blade barely pierced the surface, and failed to drive deep into the eye socket and reach the brain. In that instant, his wrist bone was shattered by the Holy Stigmatas.

“You—!!!”

The Pope’s voice, once ethereal, now screamed in pain and fury.

At that moment, everyone was utterly shocked. The scene was so absurd it bordered on horror, making them question whether they were dreaming.

No one had ever dared, nor had anyone been able, to harm the Pope—not even Huo Chao. In everyone’s eyes, the Pope had been elevated to a near-divine status.

But now, in this very moment, that clone had managed the impossible.

“Unforgivable! Unforgivable… how dare you!!!”
“YOU DARE—!!!”

Though the wound itself was minor, barely a scratch to the Pope, the audacity to challenge his authority filled him with profound humiliation and rage.

The exalted god now howled in anger and disgrace—

“I will make you wish for death, to live a life worse than death!!!”

The Pope clutched his injured eye with one hand, while the fingers of his other hand tightened, nearly crushing the young man’s neck. Simultaneously, the crimson Holy Stigmatas on the young man’s body constricted violently, like a python strangling its prey.

Huo Xianfeng could hear the sound of every bone in this borrowed body being crushed, and the overwhelming pain twisted his facial muscles into a grotesque expression.

But even in this moment, Huo Xianfeng forced his eyes open to drink in the Pope’s disheveled state. Struggling to speak, every word he uttered spilled fresh blood from his lips.

“Listen… well, Pope. The next time we meet…”

The teenager grinned, his lips curling into a ghastly, menacing smile, and he delivered his chilling ultimatum:

“—will be the day of your death!!!”

Author’s Note:

I originally planned for this chapter to include A-Ci’s scenes, but I felt ending on this death threat was more impactful. The rest will be moved to the next chapter.