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"Oh? Explain." Chen Xuanfeng asked, noting the seriousness in his tone.

"This 'Eternal Heroic Wheel' is not only the heart of Sky City but also the prison sealing the soul of Archdemon King Barto. If it's destroyed, Barto's soul will escape, and the entire world will perish. So—"

"So I should stop now, for the sake of saving the world?" Chen Xuanfeng scorned, his grip not loosening one bit. "If I recall correctly, the soul seal of Archdemon King Barto was completed back then by the sacrifice of thousands of elven mages. If this skeleton array is the key to sealing his soul, what happened to the elves' original seal?"

"That was because—"

"Spare me the excuses. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the elven runes embedded in the walls of the upper four dungeon layers? Hmph! When Barto terrorized the land, it was our orcs and the elves who joined forces, sacrificing countless lives to defeat and seal him. Only you humans profited, learning our Combat Energy and magic. Now you occupy this Seal Mountain, not guarding it properly but dismantling the efforts of your predecessors for your own gain. And now you dare use the sins you committed to threaten us? Is there anything in this world more deserving of destruction than you?"

"W-Wait! The past cannot be changed, but if you don’t stop now, the world truly will be destroyed—"

"Hmph! Don’t lump us orcs together with your weak and despicable kind. Even if it means another 'Demon-Sealing War,' we won’t spare you!" Chen Xuanfeng snarled, increasing the pressure of his Tiger's Soul Blade. Xi Luo, on the other side, seemed shaken by the revelation and staggered back.

The shift in the core battlefield immediately affected the operation of Saint Spirit Mountain. Most obviously, though freed from the entanglement of the Doomsday Horn, the Sky City did not return to its original altitude. Instead, after a violent tremor, it descended another hundred meters, now only three to four hundred meters above the ground.

"Blasphemer! Repent before the gods!" In the sky, the Pope, still held back by Orc King Samanda, shouted furiously as he swung his multicolored sword.

But the only response was the dark edge of the Doom Demon Axe.

Though bloodied and outmatched, Orc King Samanda lived up to his reputation as the orcs' genius warrior. With the Emperor Martial Overlord Art and the power of a beast-man, he could deliver a fatal blow to the Pope at any moment. If struck down, Paul VIII had no means to cast Great Resurrection on himself after death. Without the resolve to pay a steep price, breaking free from the interception was impossible.

...Without the resolve to pay a steep price...

Finally making a decision, the Pope's face hardened with determination as he suddenly charged at the Orc King.

"Old fool, here to die?" Samanda laughed wildly, swinging his axe horizontally.

"...Yes, something like that..."

Murmuring as if in a trance, Paul VIII ignored the sweeping strike of the epic weapon, thrusting his holy sword straight at the Orc King's heart.

Yet, even trading injury for injury required skill—especially against a warrior like Samanda.

"Are you mad? Such an attack could never harm me." Samanda taunted, catching the incoming blade with his Beamon-transformed forelimb. Meanwhile, his sweeping axe mercilessly cleaved into the Pope's body. Though Paul VIII ascended rapidly, his legs were severed, the violent combat energy pulverizing them instantly.

Limb-severing wounds were not something even the highest-tier healing magic could quickly mend.

The Pope merely spat a cold word: "Explode—"

The epic sword Radiance in his hand shattered on command.

Even the weakest epic weapon contained magic on par with super-magical beasts, and combined with the divine power the Pope had deliberately infused, the instantaneous explosion was devastating. Thus, the Orc King's mighty, battle-worn left arm also turned to bloody mist.

The Pope fared no better, losing his sword-wielding right hand.

"You—" Though deprived of his powerful left arm, Samanda was more stunned by the Pope's madness. In that instant, the Pope had lost his right hand and both legs. While his divine arts could regenerate them in a day or two, on the battlefield, his actions were tantamount to abandoning sustained combat.

The violent explosion not only cost each of them an arm but also forced them apart, disrupting the battle's rhythm. This gave Paul VIII the chance to cast Divine Prophecy once more.

"...The Lord said: Let there be light, and there was light."

Simultaneously, the Pope's remaining left hand crushed the holy book Revelation he had been holding.

In an instant, light converged from all directions, near and far. The world seemed to darken as all color, brilliance, and vitality concentrated into the Pope's hand—into the shredded pages of Revelation. Then, countless glowing characters brimming with immense magic flew from the fragments, arranging into endless sentences midair before coalescing, at the Pope's command, into a massive sphere of light hundreds of meters in diameter around the Orc King.

"Great Sealing Spirit Array"—this was the strongest sealing technique among the secret divine arts of the Holy Temple. Amplified by the Pope's Divine Prophecy and at the cost of the holy book Revelation, it even gained the power to temporarily seal the Orc King. Freed from Samanda's interception at last, the Pope turned without hesitation and transported himself toward the Eternal Heroic Wheel.

And his timing was impeccable.