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"A place that rises by exploiting dark souls dares to call itself a holy land? You shall shatter along with this absurd place—"

Heroic Werewolf Scroll Chapter 80: Sacrifices Bring Unforeseen Changes

When Chen Xuanfeng unleashed his ultimate blade technique, "Chaos Reopens the Violet Calamity," the immense dark energy sent violent tremors through the entire Saint Spirit Mountain.

The battle outside the Sky City had also reached a critical juncture.

Though the War God Pope, being of the tortoise race, possessed an extraordinarily long lifespan, and two centuries of cultivation had rendered his divine arts nearly unfathomable, attempting to suppress the colossal Sky City weighing hundreds of millions of tons alone was still far too taxing. Relying on the divine artifact Doomsday Horn, he had barely held on until now, but he was on the verge of collapse. The crimson streams of furious spiritual elements in the sky also grew sparse as the wielder's strength waned.

Meanwhile, the outcome of the duel between the two supreme powerhouses in the sky—Pope Paul VIII and Orc King Samanda—was gradually becoming clear.

Saint Masters were mighty and possessed limitless power, but when facing an opponent of equal caliber with equally inexhaustible reserves, their inability to recover through magic became an irreparable flaw. Samanda was now drenched in blood. Though his supreme combat energy sealed his wounds, prolonged battle had still left him visibly fatigued. In contrast, the Pope grew fiercer with each strike. Initially, his mage-like physique had struggled to adapt to close combat, but after several large-scale bodily regenerations, his newly formed body perfectly matched the demands of the Seraph secretly controlling him, making his combat rhythm twice as fluid.

Another factor also influenced the outcome.

Aerial combat differed vastly from ground battles. Samanda had never imagined that in the boundless sky, distance could become a decisive factor. On the ground, their battle radius might span meters, tens of meters, or at most hundreds of meters, but soaring through the sky expanded this range to kilometers—even tens of kilometers. This change should have been fair, but in a duel between a Pope and a Sword Saint, the disparity became glaring. Their effective attack ranges were inherently different, and the widened distance gave Paul VIII ample space to cast spells. Most crucially, Samanda’s one-kilometer-diameter domain, vast enough on land, became almost useless in the sky, unable to reliably ensnare his opponent.

A Sword Saint without his domain lost at least thirty percent of his combat power. And if he failed to restrain the Pope, this powerhouse—forged from the deaths of countless believers—would descend upon the battlefield below, collapsing the entire orc front. Fortunately, just as both orc champions teetered on the brink, the Sky City formed from Saint Spirit Mountain suddenly trembled violently.

"Hah, I never thought he’d actually succeed..." The War God Pope laughed, spitting blood as he collapsed weakly to the ground.

The other religious leader, the Pope of the Radiant Temple, turned ashen and immediately tried to rush toward the Sky City—only to be swiftly intercepted by Orc King Samanda.

"Old fool, trying to flee? This king said you will die here today!"

"Sinful beast, since you wish to perish in the Lord’s radiance, I shall personally open the gates of judgment for you!"

Paul VIII could vaguely sense the events unfolding in the catacombs. Consumed by urgency, he smashed the hilt of his sword against the thorny crown on his forehead. Countless black spikes plunged deep into his skull, and as blood gushed forth, the Pope’s power surged once more. The six luminous wings on his back doubled in length, and with a deafening roar, he transformed into a blazing meteor, hurtling toward the orc king blocking his path.

Samanda knew that if the Pope was this desperate, Chen Xuanfeng must have struck at the very foundation of Saint Spirit Mountain. Every moment of delay now brought them closer to victory, so he met the charge head-on. In the sky, gold and white energies erupted once more in rolling thunder.

Meanwhile, within Saint Spirit Mountain, the clash between violet and pure white forces reached its climax.

The violet energy sphere, now swollen to over thirty meters in diameter, continued its relentless advance. Before it stood the young Saint Master Xi Luo, resisting the onslaught with his five-colored crystal sword, "Hero’s Mark." Behind him, three Holy Grail Knights channeled their strength into him through secret arts, while further back, the Four High Priests wielded divine spells, drawing the holy power of the "Heroic Tomb" to counter Chen Xuanfeng’s dark energy—though they no longer dared to mobilize the skulls of the heroic spirits for attack, as that would only fuel their enemy.

Yet...

"Hmph, if I’m not mistaken, the purpose of this magic array formed by hundreds of thousands of holy skulls is to suppress the soul and consciousness of the Great Demon King while creating a tightly sealed conduit for energy transfer. If the array were intact, no dark energy would leak. But you foolishly tried to attack me with those skulls and never anticipated my divine weapon could actively absorb dark energy, causing a corner of the array to collapse. No matter how you try to patch it, you can’t stop the 'Tiger Soul Blade' from devouring dark power now," Chen Xuanfeng coldly stated the cruel truth. "If not for creating this breach, I wouldn’t have drained my vitality maintaining my blade technique for so long earlier. Now, though only thirty percent of my strength remains, with this endless dark energy replenishing me, I can still destroy the very foundation of Saint Spirit Mountain. You’ve already lost!"

The violet sphere pressed forward relentlessly. Though its energy was depleted by human resistance, it ceaselessly absorbed the dark power drifting in the air, swelling continuously as it advanced toward its target—the core of the Eternal Heroic Wheel.

Once that was shattered, the levitation of Saint Spirit Mountain would collapse, and the fall of this Sky City would be inevitable.

Watching the encroaching violet light, the Golden Crest Arch High Priest cried out in alarm, "Foolish beast! Do you even know what you’re doing? If this array is destroyed, it won’t just be Saint Spirit Mountain that falls—it will be the entire world!"