Under the watchful eyes of the bewildered public and the police, sacred glimmers of light appeared out of nowhere, spreading instantly across the area, suppressing everything.
A giant low-level demon that emerged from the ground was directly hit by a beam of light.
It let out a howl as its newly formed shape began to dissolve into strands of dark mist, then collapsed into nothingness.
All the black-clothed individuals suddenly stopped their actions, moving in unison towards the yet-to-be-set-up checkpoint, reflecting a group of clergy in their eyes.
An old man, wearing a robe with purple edges and radiating a holiness that was blinding to them, stood at the forefront, followed by priests and monks wielding knight swords.
"Sacrifice!"
The black-clothed individuals spoke in unison, disregarding the confused and panicked civilians, focusing only on the church's clergy. With coordinated movements, they took out prepared sacrifices from their cloth bags, placed them on the ground, and then each took out a small knife to stab themselves in the chin.
With decisive actions, the bloody scene made not only the clergy on site but also the civilians who hadn't retreated to the checkpoint feel a chill down their spine, staring in shock.
Bishop Richard took out the Bible from his side, his gaze on Amelia lying outside the car and on the gathering dark mist, his aura of holiness intensifying.
"Daniel, do you know why I dislike York?"
Father Daniel shook his head: "I don't know."
"Because of his way of fighting."
Bishop Richard watched as the black-clothed individuals fell one by one, performing sacrificial summons, and then calmly said, "He doesn't pray, meditate, or connect with the Lord's radiance to exert his strength like we do. He's so different that he doesn't fit in with us."
As he spoke, Bishop Richard began to read from the Bible he had brought with him, focusing on the low-level demon that had nearly fully emerged, blocking the entire roadway, and recited loudly.
"Lord, let our hearts connect with You to gain spiritual insight. Please guide our steps in battle, directing us. In Your strength, we will overcome evil and repel darkness."
...…
Thailand.
Don Mueang International Airport.
A private jet arrived at high speed.
York carried a backpack that seemed large for an ordinary person but was just the right size for him.
"Finally arrived."
York, expressionless, descended the stairs from the private jet, holding a phone with a black screen.
From the moment the call ended, the five hours had been somewhat torturous for him because he didn't know the condition of Amelia and Saxon.
Setting aside Amelia, a stranger, he was most concerned about Saxon's safety.
After all, Saxon was Madame Camille's only son.
For both emotional and rational reasons, he didn't want to hear that Saxon had been harmed.
Looking down, the clergy stationed in Thailand were already waiting below.
With Bishop Richard there, this large-scale supernatural event, no matter how tumultuous, would be suppressed within five hours.
Because, aside from some bishops more inclined towards clerical duties, Bishop Richard, who was dispatched to Thailand, was an old man who had survived wars.
So, York trusted Bishop Richard's capabilities.
"Five hours, the supernatural event involving the demon legion should now be entirely suppressed, but the situation with Saxon…"
York stepped down, his expression unchanging as he landed on the ground, looking towards the waiting clergy.
"Father York." A middle-aged man, a sturdy monk in a monastic robe, greeted him.
"I am Monk Lucien, responsible for your transportation."
"Monk Lucien, how are things?" York nodded and walked towards a church-marked car parked nearby.
"The Siam Paragon Mall incident has been suppressed by Bishop Richard."
Hearing Monk Lucien's voice, York found nothing unusual.
This was something Bishop Richard could easily handle, reflecting the dignity of a bishop capable of safeguarding a region.
However, he then heard a somewhat hesitant next line.
"It's just…"
York stopped in front of the car door, a sudden unease surfacing: "Just what?"
The clergy responsible for transportation glanced at the stopped priest and said somewhat awkwardly.
"Bishop Richard's exertion was somewhat excessive."
York's expression tightened around his backpack. The cult had made a significant move, likely achieving their goal: to exhaust the church's forces in Bangkok with this incident.
Which demon were they trying to summon?
In that moment, Monk Lucien felt a heavy pressure emanating from the priest, so intense that it made his breathing heavy until he held his breath.
Fortunately, as York spoke again, the oppressive atmosphere quickly dissipated.
"How large was the event?"
Relieved, Monk Lucien's attitude and voice became even more respectful.
"The Siam Paragon Mall incident is tentatively classified as a Level VII event."
York was silent for a moment, then opened the car door and got in.
"Take me to see Bishop Richard, and tell me everything."
"Yes, Father York."
As Monk Lucien responded, the church-marked car slowly departed.
Inside the car, York began to understand the entire sequence of events.
Due to the cultists' massive sacrifices and the deaths of civilians, the appearance of a large number of low-level demons had escalated the event from an unconfirmed status to a Level VII event instantly.
A Level VII event could plunge a city into turmoil.
Bishop Richard, to prevent further casualties, had exhausted all his holy power...
Hearing this, York sighed.
Compared to the very specific data he usually dealt with, clergy who exhausted their holy power would mostly end up sacrificing themselves.
The depletion of holy power feels like being utterly drained, akin to the deep fatigue of not sleeping for several days and nights for ordinary people.
For robust priests, this might not be much, but Bishop Richard, being advanced in age, suffering double the damage after exhausting his holy power was inevitable.
Besides the above, York received both good and bad news.
The good news was that Amelia had not been captured by the cult.
The bad news was that both Amelia and Saxon were severely injured and were being treated in the hospital.
"Before I came to pick you up…"
Sensing a change in the atmosphere inside the car, Monk Lucien added: "They have been removed from critical condition and are being transferred to the Holy Ascension Cathedral."
York couldn't help but relax his tense body a bit; this outcome was relatively good for him.
Now that he had arrived, he could accept whatever came next.
___________________
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The Ascension Cathedral of the Holy Church, as its name suggests, is precisely where Bishop Richard resides.
Just like the Lutheran Cathedral in Romania back then.
If one were to ask where the strongest force of the Church in Bangkok or Thailand is, the answer would also be the Ascension Cathedral of the Holy Church.
When Monk Lucien brought him near the Ascension Cathedral.
York found that there were no Thai civilians around, only clergy members coming and going.
"Due to what happened today, this place has been temporarily sealed off," Monk Lucien whispered after noticing the priest observing from the car's rearview mirror.
"Not just us, the entire Bangkok is on high alert, fearing another major incident."
His voice was soft, but the tone carried a hint of desolation.
Hearing this, York knew that the Level VII supernatural event must have resulted in a significant number of deaths. He looked at the silent Monk Lucien and nodded quietly.
After a strict check, York walked through the lavishly decorated corridors and finally arrived at a room with an isolation window.
Through the isolation window, he could see the situation inside the room.
This was the room where Saxton and Emilia were.
Glancing at Saxton, who looked like a mummy wrapped up and still in a coma, York didn't know how to break the news to Ms. Camille.
"A silver lining." A doctor in a white coat standing to the left seemed somewhat emotional.
"That young man's rib was just a fraction away from piercing his heart. Logically, the organs inside must have sustained the expected damage, an inevitable outcome.
However, for some reason, his internal organs seemed to be protected by something. Most of the shattered bones missed the vital parts…"
Hearing this, York looked towards Emilia's neighboring bed.
It was only now that he finally saw Emilia herself.
Like Saxton, her face was bruised and swollen, and she was in a coma, but from her face, York saw a shadow of a woman who had a brief encounter with fate.
"This is?" York's heart stirred.
Seemingly sensing the priest's gaze next to him, the doctor responsibly explained.
"The one with the lightest injuries is this young lady…"
As these words echoed in his ears, York looked to the right.
A priest in a robe appeared in his field of view.
His face was unusually tired, the whole person like a withered flower.
In his memory, this person seemed to be a priest that Bishop Richard always had by his side, Father Daniel, whom he had spoken to over the phone.
Even though he was extremely weary, he approached with steady steps.
The doctor wisely closed his mouth at this moment.
"Father York, the bishop asks for you," Father Daniel spoke, his voice aging a decade despite his prime.
Seeing such severe exhaustion, York nodded, already imagining Bishop Richard's appearance.
If this priest was this drained, then the bishop's exhaustion must be no less.
Following Father Daniel step by step, they arrived at a spacious hall.
A main door appeared in front.
This was a small indoor chapel.
As Father Daniel opened the door, York saw several people already standing in the moderately sized chapel.
Bypassing Father Matty, who nodded in greeting on the outskirts, York responded in kind, his gaze resting on the elderly man seated at the far end.
At this glance, the hair that was mixed with black in his memory had now turned completely white.
In a daze, York recalled the bishop who once moved briskly through headquarters, now staring at him with an emotionless gaze.
Time is kind, yet it spares no one.
York sighed in his heart, walked slowly over, and eventually sat on the bench adjacent to the elderly man.
Now, York could clearly see the old man's face.
At just over seventy, his complexion resembled that of someone in their eighties or nineties, the marks of time etched all over, feeling the extreme weakness hidden within this aging body.
The old man was staring at the unchanging image of Jesus in front of him, his unblinking eyes suddenly said, "York, you've come?"
York was taken aback, faintly sensing something, and took a deep breath.
"I've come, Bishop Richard."
A flicker of emotion appeared on Bishop Richard's face, as if lost in thought, he turned to look at the source of the sound.
"Indeed, I still find your kind somewhat detestable."
These words caused a stir among every priest in the chapel, only York's eyes flickered slightly.
The next moment, an old and hoarse voice spoke again: "The center of the incident is in the area overseen by Matty. If you need to understand something, ask him, and he will assist you, providing everything you need."
Listening, York saw a hint of hesitation on the old man's face, who then spoke in an even softer voice.
"The strength of this Satanic cult is not weak; they know many dark arts, be caref..."
His voice was so low that only York could hear clearly.
The old man seemed to realize something was off, abruptly stopped speaking, and became increasingly cold.
York's face softened: "Bishop Richard, I'll be careful. Please rest well."
Saying this, ignoring Bishop Richard's unnatural expression, York turned to look at the image of Jesus in front of him, made the sign of the cross over his chest, then stood up, passed by the slightly bowing Father Daniel, and walked towards the main door.
And walking by Father Matty's side, York didn't stop, leaving behind only one sentence.
"Father Matty, let's go."
Father Matty bowed slightly to the old man inside and then followed York's steps.
The two paralleled each other, weaving through the clergy members who stopped to salute them on the corridors.
Father Matty finally couldn't help but speak: "Why are you silent?"
He and York were old acquaintances, saved by York in a major supernatural event when both were novice priests.
"What should I say?" York looked at the exhausted Father Matty: "But you, having expended so much, are you still okay? Can you hold on?"
Father Matty's face twitched: "Whether I'm okay or not is not your concern. I can still hold on. Don't you want to know the current situation with the family of seven? There have been some changes."
York narrowed his eyes: "Tell me?"
Father Matty sighed: "The child's seventh birthday is actually tomorrow, which means tomorrow at midnight is when they plan to take the child."
Saying this, Father Matty looked at the expressionless York, paused, and then continued.
"Now, with only five hours left until midnight, even if we call for reinforcements from other countries, it's already too late. So..."
However, before he could finish, the previously expressionless priest suddenly smiled and interrupted him.
"Wishing for it, I alone am enough."
___________________
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