Chapter 60: Villain!

Demon Bible

Purr did not hesitate after accidentally injuring Downs earlier. He swung his fist once more, striking toward a spot where the flowing water seemed to be obstructed.

In an instant, his fist seemed to cross several meters of distance, yet it also looked like a completely normal swing.

Bypassing the spatial distance reconstructed by the illusion magic, his punch landed squarely in front of the old pastor.

"Crash!"

A loud collision echoed as a barrier, seemingly isolating everything from the outside world, materialized and blocked Purr''s punch.

Holy Spell: Sanctuary Barrier.

Compared to the Divine Art: Sanctuary, the Sanctuary Barrier restricted its damage protection to a specific range, thereby granting it exceptionally strong defensive capabilities against frontal physical attacks.

The barrier absorbed most of the kinetic force during the impact and even generated a rebounding shockwave. Fortunately, Purr possessed the Tough Hide trait, so this backlash could not harm him.

"So, have you seen yourself clearly yet?" Nemus stood in the seawater, the tide lapping at his knees, though it did little to hinder his movements.

There was no fancy technique, merely a basic sword swing.

When the blade edge struck the barrier, the transmission of force reached its absolute peak, slicing right through the spell.

A spell designed to defend against physical attacks would inevitably be disrupted by a physical attack.

Therefore, as long as it was targeted precisely, the Sanctuary Barrier was nothing more than a single sword strike away from shattering.

Accompanying Nemus''s next strike were his calm yet piercing words.

"When you fought Isabella, you hid your figure within the illusions you cast."

"Yet, in this illusion resembling a heavenly kingdom, you stubbornly place yourself right in the middle of it."

"But by placing yourself within this illusionary domain filled with spatial dislocations, it feels more like an act of self-deception."

"Do you..."

"...truly believe from the bottom of your heart that you can ascend to heaven?"

Blade edge clashed against blade edge. The Cherubim that had originally been behind the old pastor suddenly appeared in front of him, its own blade intercepting the strike.

However, following the sheer force of Nemus''s blade edge, a ripple cascaded across the Cherubim''s body.

Its form flickered, briefly revealing a body entirely wrapped in black threads before rapidly reverting to its angelic appearance.

"Jacques?" Even though the black threads had completely engulfed the figure, a single clash of swords was all Nemus needed to deduce the opponent''s true identity.

The force behind the blow shifted slightly, but the sword art remained unchanged.

This type of sword art was like a fingerprint, brimming with personal identifiers. To a master of the sword like Nemus, it was incredibly easy to recognize.

"This disguise is just as laughable as your self-deception."

Faced with Nemus''s relentless barrage of words, the old pastor chose to remain silent.

He knew deep down that he was merely burying his head in the sand. But to admit such a thing would be tantamount to tearing away his final shred of dignity.

"You watched my battle with Isabella, did you not?" Thus, the old pastor opted to abandon his defense in favor of going on the offensive, seizing upon the information leaked in Nemus''s words.

"You deliberately left Isabella alone at the cathedral so she could act as a pawn to test the waters."

"Thereby gathering more information about me."

"You are no Saint, nor are you justice."

"Right now, I can smell your nauseating ambition."

"You are an absolute villain of pure evil!"

"Umm... you could stand to be a bit more aggressive than that." Listening to the old pastor''s words, Nemus found himself momentarily speechless.

He had just launched a scathing attack on the very meaning of the man''s existence, yet the old pastor''s only counterattack was essentially calling him a bad guy.

However, Nemus understood the reasoning behind the old pastor''s verbal assault.

What the man needed was never to break Nemus''s mental defenses, but rather to give himself an excuse to firm up his own convictions. This was a line of sophistry that Nemus himself was equally adept at using.

When someone points out your flaws, do not try to fix them; instead, you must pick apart the other person''s mistakes.

This was exactly the case for the old pastor. Unable to solve his own problems or justify his one-sided wishful thinking regarding atonement, he chose to point fingers at Nemus''s flaws instead.

If Nemus was a villain, then Nemus''s accusations held no weight.

And by fighting against a villain, the old pastor himself would be aligned with justice, completely free of any wrongdoing.

More often than not, people functioned like binary switches, seeing everything as strictly black or white.

They could not accept imperfect victims, nor could they stomach flawed champions of justice.

Incapable of seeking truth from facts, their brains only registered oppositional relationships.

The old pastor was no different right now. His life was already riddled with gaping holes.

From a fearless pastor willing to sacrifice himself to save others, to a bishop who could tolerate minor indiscretions.

Then degrading into a bloodstained researcher, and finally arriving at his current state—a man desperately seeking repentance and atonement.

The evolution of his entire life was immensely complicated.

Because of this complex and fractured existence, he could only rely on oppositional viewpoints to forcefully prop himself up in this moment.

It was just like the last two intersecting support beams holding each other up in the ruins of a collapsed house.

Recognizing this, Nemus knew that this very mindset was the old pastor''s greatest weakness.

Once his mental state crumbled, no matter how much power he possessed, he would spiral into a state of self-destruction under these circumstances.

"In God''s Name, I pass judgment upon you!" The old pastor glared with wide eyes and bristling facial hair as the other Cherubim, constructed to look like Isabella, unleashed a Divine Art: Precept Spell.

The vast majority of the God of Precepts'' magic fell under the Holy element; the pantheon itself did not possess many actual Precept-type spells or Divine Arts.

However, the Precept Spell was the absolute core among them.

It boasted incredibly high versatility. It could be cast upon oneself to accumulate power through adhering to a precept, or it could be cast upon an enemy to heavily restrict their actions.

For instance, at this very moment, Nemus could feel that he had been subjected to a certain restriction; his range of movement had been confined to a radius of about ten steps.

Within a specific time frame, he could only take ten steps. The moment he exceeded that limit, he would be rooted to the spot, completely unable to move.

"Oh? And the price for this is that the caster themselves becomes unable to move, correct?" Nemus looked at the old pastor, swiftly deducing the answer.

When a Precept Spell was cast upon an enemy to restrict them, the caster would inherently have to pay a corresponding price.

This cost was generally heavily correlated to the restriction imposed.

As long as one had a basic understanding of how it worked, they could guess the drawback in an instant.

Restricting movement was a highly conventional application of the Precept Spell.

However, the old pastor was extremely cunning. Instead of casting the Precept Spell himself, he channeled it through Isabella. Naturally, the price of casting the spell would then be borne by Isabella.

Realizing this, Nemus let out a chuckle. He stood his ground without moving, relying solely on the sword in his hand to parry Jacques''s relentless flurry of attacks.

The old pastor had forcibly taken control of Jacques and Isabella, using Nest Beast blood vessels combined with illusion magic to turn them into his unwilling helpers.

Yet, Nemus was not fighting alone either.

With the barrier shattered, Purr surged forward once more, ready to launch a devastating assault.

At the same time, wisps of pitch-black aura had already begun drifting through the surrounding air.

Around Downs, who had been sent flying earlier, several magical formations radiating an ominous energy materialized into existence.