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When the half-elf nun manipulated his body to fall from the ring of order stone sculpture and rushed towards him while screaming, Anson finally realized that his initial guess was a bit taken for granted.

For the Isel elves... or at least to Fleia Mosesfield, the Ring of Order is something that an outsider—and an outsider looked down upon by the elves—imposed on them. Following this religion is a very "fashionable" behavior, whether accepted or not, it has nothing to do with "apostasy".

Because the true belief of the Isel Elf is actually the "ancestor worship" originating from the blood source, that is, firmly believe that he is the noble blood descendant of the true god, awakening the power given by God through the bloodline; the purer the bloodline, the stronger the nobler the more, the thinner the more weak the less, the humble the... and so on.

From this perspective, it is not difficult to understand why Flea hated herself so much - first of all, stealing divine power with a non-elves, which is an heresy in the absolute sense, and at the same time, he also believes in derogating the "true God" into a ring of evil order, so he is still a pagan.

For Fleia, who was born at the top of the pyramid of worship and faith by her elves, this wonderful combination of "heretics" and "pagans", let alone killing herself, even if she was destroyed, it may not be considered a pity for her hatred.

"Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-Click-"

The extremely crisp sound of broken ice echoed in the prayer hall, and the arms, thighs, large intestines, heads, lungs, kidneys, etc., hanging on the ceiling of the cathedral, fell like raindrops, jumping like a puppet pulled by silk threads, wriggling, contracting, twitching, and happily coming.

An Sen, who was instantly surrounded by countless cold flesh and blood, frowned slightly, raised his right hand, and snapped his fingers.

Curse magic, [Ascending Fire].

"boom!"

The burning flames covered the layers of residual limbs and internal organs, and instantly disappeared.

But this is meaningless. Almost at the same time as it was destroyed, the "brand new" flesh and blood emerged again under the ceiling.

As long as the key memory of repairing the gap cannot be found, or simply erodes Fleia's realm, this bloody cathedral cannot be destroyed and will continue forever.

The "weakness" of the Elf King is to surrender to the empire in exchange for military aid to support Isel to become stronger, so Louis was able to defeat him in the name of "Knight of the Empire" with "advanced weapons of the empire"; what weakness would be in Fleia's eyes?

While thinking quickly, Anson launched a "plan" to copy the effect of anonymous glasses, while manipulating the unburned [Rise Fire] to continue burning, trying to delay the "resurrection" of surrounding corpses and gain time to break through.

"The despicable pagan dares to use the stolen divine power in front of the true god?!" The half-elf nun screamed again, and the entire prayer hall trembled in the sounds:

"You have to go to hell-!"

boom--

Despair, anger, fear... Countless negative emotions poured into Anson's consciousness, madly weakening his reason; he paused and his eyes turned red.

If it is an ordinary black magic mental attack, he can now distort or backlash through the realm, or at least resist it based on experience; but now Anson has been influenced by Fleia's realm, and his emotions have become extremely fragile and sensitive, and if he is touched, he is like a flood and beast.

At this moment, he had the urge to open the realm and tear Fleia's spirit into pieces!

An Sen, who was gritting his teeth tightly and suppressing his emotions, suddenly felt a darkness in front of him. The sound of whimpering wind sounded between the closed walls on all sides. The sculptures on the corridor were given life, and tentacles and eyes grew like vines; the domes and stained glasses that painted various legendary oil paintings gradually twisted, and the characters in the painting turned their heads and smiled at him.

The next second, the sharp voice of the half-elf nun sounded in his ears again:

"Angry, despair, fear! These are the postures you should have as a heretic, and the true face of the fallen pagan who deserves sin and die!"

This...Anson's eyes widened.

Although the distortions around are obviously related to the power of the three old gods, the chaotic and illogical power does not come from Fleia's own magical reaction, but the power of natural laws!

It seems that because the Elf King was destroyed, it realized that there was another "distorted reality" power in Fleia's spiritual realm, that is, its own existence.

We must find a way to repair this gap as soon as possible, otherwise we may encounter the situation with Talia in the tomb of the Three Old Gods, and deal with the malice of the laws of nature... this world!

Anson, with a serious expression, raised his scarlet eyes and stared at the half-elf nun who was walking towards him step by step.

Tentacles grew on her forehead, and her hair was covered with sarcoma; five eyes squeezed together in each of her ulcerated eye sockets, yellow-green pus mixed with blood, constantly overflowing from the corners of her mouth, nostrils and ears; her stiff body was trembling, and the ice on her palms ignited a chill flame, and every time her feet fell to the ground, the sound of the knocking caused Anson to burst into a headache:

"Come on, let me, who are blessed and loved by the true gods... send you to hell!"

………………………………………

"clang--!"

Two identical sharp blades collided, and the passionate sparks bloomed freely in the pupils that looked at each other.

The Imperial Knight, who had a confident smile, decisively drew his sword and appeared beside Louis without any warning; before the sharp blade arrived, the biting cold wind had cut off the ends of his hair.

"clang!"

Louis, who could not keep up with the opponent's speed, almost blocked it with instinct, barely stopped the long sword that was almost beheaded. The golden hair blew away with the wind and landed on the steps in front of the gate.

The moment the blades intertwine, the two of them reflected their exact same appearance; they were just clean and tidy, confident and sunny; the other was covered in scars and looked embarrassed.

Not only speed and reaction, the "Lui Bernard" in front of him was even the strength of the young knight. If it weren't for his rich experience and firmness, he would have probably lost his weapon and his head was cut off by the opponent two minutes ago.

So far, the battle lasted only three minutes.

In order to avoid being caught by the opponent and being fatal with one blow, Louis is always trying to fight with the opponent in close combat and shorten the attack range; because the "self" in front of him almost only uses the most standard sword moves, and fighting with close combat can greatly limit the space for play and gain some room for breathing.

But the "Knight of the Empire" obviously realized this and chose to use more variable offensives and speed to storm-like slashes, which made Louis overwhelmed.

"Clang-Clang-Clang-Clang!!!..."

The flashes of sparks bloom one after another, and the young knight who had no time to parry could only continue to retreat along the steps, trying to find flaws from familiar moves and movements.

Unfortunately, although he could detect the opportunity, he could not keep up with the speed of the opponent's movements, making this counterattack meaningless... "Louis Bernard" can always make up for the mistakes in time when the offensive was interrupted and resolve the young Knight's offensive.

"Spit"

The sword that stabbed into the face was easily avoided by the "Imperial Knight". The long sword in his hand suppressed Louis' back with an extremely confident smile, and grabbed the dazzling flames and slashed forward.

The target is his head!

The young knight staring at the blade attacking, his pupils suddenly shrank, and he knew that he had no time to dodge and slid backwards first, and turned toward the other party's position. The long sword in his hand used the power of twisting his waist to slash towards "Lui Bernard"'s head.

He wanted to use the method of dying together to force the opponent to retreat and avoid it, and give up this round of offensive.

Sure enough... "Louis Bernard" frowned slightly, and the long sword that had already been slashed forcibly stopped, blocking the neck and the young knight's blade.

"clang--!"

Taking advantage of the opportunity of the sharp blades colliding, Louis decisively distanced himself from the other party, held the long knife in front of him, and gasped violently while being alert.

The battle of just over three minutes was almost exhausted.

"I have a question... How could you be sure that he must choose to defend rather than die with you?" William's question sounded at the lantern on his waist.

“Because that is not beautiful enough.”

Staring at the every move opposite, the young knight gasping for breath showed a self-deprecating smile: "For Louis Bernard, winning is not enough... it must be beautiful enough, that is the most important thing."

"The real victory is either the willing surrender and concede or the direct defeat of fairness and justice; in addition, it is a shame even if you win the duel."

That's right, this is why Louis dared to retreat and dodge when he was exhausted.

The opposite "Louis Bernard" is almost a copy of himself, even more extreme than himself before the Battle of Thunder Castle. His compliance with the chivalrous spirit has reached a point of almost rigidity, even if he puts himself at risk.

And this is Fleia's own mind...

"Outside challenger, can you end your meaningless duel?!"

Standing in front of the gate, "Louis Bernard" standing with a knife, looked down at the young knight panting below: "In the name of His Majesty Fleia Mosesfield, if you are willing to surrender and admit defeat, as a knight, I can give you a glorious ending!"

"I appreciate your generosity, but not." After calming down his breath, a bitter smile appeared on Louis's face:

"I have to defeat you and enter this palace because... I am also her knight."

As soon as he finished speaking, the expression of "Louis Bernard" immediately became depressed.

"Is that right? Then there's nothing I can do." He said coldly, pulling out a brand new revolver from behind:

"Although using firearms violates the standards of ordinary duels, it is my supreme duty to protect His Majesty; even if it violates the creed in my heart, I have to do it."

"I... will not show any mercy in the next battle!"

…………………………………

In the twisted and weird cathedral, the half-elf nun who had completely changed his appearance by the power of the three old gods pressed step by step, with a crazy expression as if he had seen Anson suffering deeply in hell and in great pain.

At this moment, the whimpering cold wind outside the window suddenly stopped.

Not only that, the streets that were originally covered by cold wind and ice and snow actually shone in; the golden morning light passed through the stained glass, leaving a hazy and sacred glory in the prayer hall.

The half-elf nun stopped suddenly, and a look of shock and disbelief appeared on his completely twisted cheek.

But there was a daze in front of me. The crosses that were originally scattered all over the hall were replaced by benches. The priests and believers who were crucified were all sitting motionless on the bench, posing as if they bowed their heads and prayed.

The quiet scene seemed no different from the usual morning praises in the past; but such a strange but familiar scene made the half-elf nun completely stunned.

"This, why...is this..."

Before he finished speaking, a beam of sunlight passed through the cathedral's vault and poured on the half-elf nun.

The dazzling light made her whole body tremble, subconsciously trying to avoid it; in a trance, something incredible came into her eyes.

The incredible half-elf nun was mechanical, looking back little by little, instantly stunned.

The originally broken ring stone sculpture of order actually appeared in her sight intact.

"Plop!"

The half-elf nun with weak legs fell to the ground, looking up at the stone sculpture with no trace of blood, emitting infinite solemnity and solemnity, and tears flowed out of ten eyes.

"I...I didn't mean it...I didn't...I didn't want to betray you...I betray my faith..."

The lost half-elf nun cried, crawling on the floor warmed by the sun with his hands and feet; every time he climbed for a distance, the mutation on her body disappeared a little: "I was wrong... sorry... I was really wrong... I thought you abandoned us!"

"I have not passed your test and shattered my faith by the cruel reality...but you have not abandoned your believers...you have been protecting our souls...our weak...helpless souls..."

"Praise the ring of order, praise you, protecting thousands of creatures..."
To be continued...