CHAPTER 180: CHAPTER 155: REBIRTH FROM THE ASHES

Where the golden light reached, monsters fell one after another, even the formidable Bigfoot "Emperor" was stunned in place. The inspired adventurers followed closely, letting out thundering battle cries, exerting their full strength to draw bows or slash, as the giant body collapsed with a mighty crash, the small humans rushed onto it one after another, tearing its flesh apart with their blades.

Bathed in blood, they left Abaddon in a daze hiding behind a statue, for a moment he had the illusion that the blood-soaked fighting adventurers in front of him were that most elite Royal Knight Order.

However, that knight order which once symbolized the Empire’s glory had already returned to the Neseriel Sanctuary.

Abaddon clenched his fists tightly.

This was the thing that made him most jealous, Bian carried a special magical power, wherever she went she brought stability to people, unconsciously compelling them to follow her footsteps, willing to entrust their lives to her.

The adventurers who had previously sunk into despair were now slaughtering out of the Holy Sanctuary, following Bian’s steps, storming into the heap of monsters with crushing force.

But as a Tier Four Knight, Abaddon could see more clearly than these people—the reason the giant Bigfoot, whose origins were unknown, was stunned in place was because of a not-very-obvious scorch mark on its chest, where the light penetrated through, which was the true fatal wound.

In other words, the one that wiped out his knight order, regarded by him as an unbeatable existence, was slain by Bian in just a face-off.

Is this... the power of the Holy Sword?

Abaddon knew Bian’s situation better than anyone; he had been lurking in the dark corner watching this "chosen one" of Neseriel Sanctuary since she was knighted as Knight Commander, she stuck at Tier Four without progressing. During nearly ten years, he witnessed the change in Bian’s combat style.

She attempted to keep pace with the tides of time, she forged the miracle creation named "Red Rose", integrating the firearm in her combat style, and was the first to propose incorporating the Firearms Battalion into regular tactics even when knights and gunners did not see eye to eye.

But no matter how she tried, Bian was stuck at that chasm, unable to advance anymore.

Abaddon derived joy and satisfaction from this peering, this nearly twisted pleasure drowned him in it.

Thinking carefully, what was his happiest moment in this grand absurdity?

Was it when the Pope privately sought him out?

Was it when the church, by some ritual, alleviated his agony that was teetering on the edge of breaking vows?

No, none of them.

It was when he saw the report in the Horned Owl Beast Daily, with a headline saying Bian died at the Empire’s border, the gruesome accompanying pictures made Abaddon’s twisted satisfaction reach its peak; he repeatedly looked at the images and positions in the newspaper, memorizing every punctuation mark.

He couldn’t help but laugh, finding it hard to describe that inner joy.

Strictly speaking, he didn’t have conflicts with Bian, in fact during Bian’s tenure as Knight Commander, she often considered the feelings of the veterans like him in military policies, with a character like hers, it was unlikely for her to make enemies.

But, it was the happiest moment of Abaddon’s life, he couldn’t recall how much he drank, drinking to the point of distracting oblivion, dreaming consistently of the scenes of Bian’s death.

Yet, the annoying person returned.

In an incredulous manner, she was bathed in the flames of the mystical bird, pulling out the Holy Sword, akin to legendary knights in the Holy Sanctuary.

No, this scene was even more legendary than those heroic spirits, as there has never been a resurrection in the history of the Neseriel Sanctuary.

As if, this was destiny itself.

Powerful jealousy engulfed Abaddon once more, as he gnashed his teeth, his visage twisting.

Bian was a thief.

Once she stole his glory, now she stole the Holy Sword, his destiny, and his life which should have belonged to him!

The battle outside the Holy Sanctuary was nearing its end, indeed, when that person who was supposed to have died returned, bathed in flames, and drew the Holy Sword, the battle’s outcome was already determined, they witnessed the coronation of a saint, who will guide people into a brand-new era, traversing the light on the battlefield, becoming a combat manner they cannot comprehend.

No longer requiring the Holy Seal’s blessing, nor unyielding defense and counterattack, wherever she went, the enemies fell in droves under the illumination of brilliance.

Abaddon saw adventurers eagerly raise their weapons over their heads, the fear and despair that had been accumulating were released in this moment.

Immediately following, the gazes of those people turned to him, peeking his half head out from behind the statue.

It was a face with blood-red eyes, features twisted.

Abaddon saw disdain and mockery on those people’s faces, even adventurers knew what Bian’s return meant.

However, Bian’s gaze never lingered a second more on Abaddon.

At this moment, it seemed Bian was no longer the valorous Imperial Knight Commander she once was, she draped in a dark cloak, half her face obscured by that dark cloak, more like a recluse.

She didn’t linger much longer on the battlefield, the mystical bird approached her, she flipped onto the bird’s back, and it spread its wings flying into the sky, golden streamers like a sun.

She left the adventurers’ worship and praise behind, disappearing into the depths of the blizzard in the blink of an eye.