As York approached closer, he could feel the formidable power of the sacred bomb even more.
Debris was scattered everywhere, like waves in the ocean tossing their contents ashore.
Everywhere.
The car could no longer make it through.
York had to park the car on a forest trail and walk towards the direction of the magic formation.
When he was only a few dozen meters away, he noticed many trees in the vicinity were snapped in half.
"The remnants of the power of the Holy Light are so strong, they've begun to materialize and become visible to the naked eye…"
York gazed at the glowing specks on the surfaces of trees, the ground, and even in the air, subconsciously gripping the handle of his knight's sword at his waist.
He suddenly thought of the incident at Saint Cata's Monastery and the towering mushroom cloud.
That mushroom cloud was much more powerful than this fireball, at least doubling in the amplified data, measured in tons.
"If that's the case, isn't that place even more mystical than here?"
York hesitated. He hadn't gone back to the scene, nor had he asked the old man for photos.
But then he thought that maybe it was for the best.
At least it would back up his claim that God had descended.
The more obvious, the more believable his words.
He was curious about what it would look like. Perhaps a holy site?
"One day when I have time, I should ask Bishop Rolf for some photos. Places like this, full of holy remnants, are where even demons dare not tread…"
Lost in thought, York suddenly realized he had arrived at his destination.
Before him was a pit about ten meters in diameter and one to two meters deep.
The ground was overturned, revealing moist, fresh earth, emanating a distinct earthy smell.
Magical summons, seals, and weakening formations were faintly visible.
"Kaldos?"
York's gaze settled on the center of the pit.
In his eyes, the pit was filled with splattered fluids and unrecognizable chunks of flesh, as if the demon had been blown to bits upon its arrival.
At the center of this mess was a lump of flesh, barely recognizable as anything, with maybe half a face, a deep purple arm without a hand, and bone wings reduced to mere skeletons.
Despite its state, the heart in the flesh lump was still faintly pulsing.
"No, this must be your pseudonym." York crouched down, looking at the flesh lump with a mix of awe and revulsion. Demons and humans are incomparable. Not only are demons extraordinarily resilient, but they also possess various powers. Some have immense physical strength, others excel in psychic abilities. To deal with them, one needs to rely on holy powers for efficiency. Otherwise, it's an uphill battle.
"Not bad for a demon associated with Ernst. You're tough, surviving in such intense Holy Light."
As he spoke, York watched the heart and flesh buds in the pit, slowly growing amidst the struggle against the lingering Holy Light, and smiled.
"Don't waste your effort. Before you recover, I can kill you a thousand, ten thousand times. Even if you do recover, I can still kill you just as many times. I've killed my fair share of high-level demons like you."
As he finished speaking, York summoned a deep red, invisible longsword with a spell, Exorcio, and slashed it towards the connecting membrane.
Pff!
A deep slash appeared on the ground, and the membrane connecting the flesh lump and surrounding tissues was effortlessly severed.
"So, you still want to live? Then answer my questions."
York spoke calmly as he crouched there.
"Or just die."
His tone was cold, unmistakable. Only Kaldos could understand the pressure he felt.
In its perception, the pressure from above was real.
The burst of Holy Light upon its arrival had informed it of the extreme danger posed by the person above.
Its body, filled with holy energy, seemed invincible, like a turtle's shell, indicating that it couldn't be invaded.
Yet, the feeling it got from its adversary was special, so unique it didn't seem human.
"You're not Ning Weize," Kaldos weakly spoke from the pit's center.
"Who are you, exactly?"
York shook his head at the familiar question. "It seems you still don't grasp your situation. Right now, I ask, you answer.
I don't understand why you all need a beating to get it."
Without moving, York's presence alone seemed to explode in the pit, as if invisible giant hands were smashing into the flesh lump.
Boom!
The pit sank further, the imprint of the giant hands visible, and Kaldos' true body was further flattened.
York could hear the painful breathing from the flesh lump, see its heart racing. The demon was in even worse shape than before.
But York was unfazed. Being harsh with demons was a matter of survival; otherwise, you're the one who dies.
"Feeling more lucid now?" York asked indifferently.
"If not, I can do it again."
Kaldos' heart raced even faster, filled with rage and resentment. But it understood its situation – completely at the mercy of its captor.
Its only option was to survive and return to hell for revenge, to gather strength and come back to the human world to tear this hateful human to shreds.
"Ask!"
Detecting the underlying rage and spite, York remained calm.
"Do you know Ernst Borga?"
"Ernst? Let me think... Ah, yes, that pitiful wretch whose faith was crumbling?"
The voice was filled with the typical demonic mockery. York, expressionless, just stared at the still-speaking flesh lump.
Kaldos, sensing a chance to turn the tables, spoke: "Seems you're an acquaintance of his. Stranger priest, do you know what he did?"
York remained silent.
A mocking laughter filled the silent space.
"He's not as powerful as you, thinking he could exorcise me, utterly delusional."
The voice grew more excited, with a predatory tone.
"I merely tempted him a bit, just a little, and he was utterly ensnared. He did exactly what I wanted to see.
And he didn't realize the person I controlled was fully conscious. Interesting, very interesting… hehehe…"
"So that's it."
York stood up, remembering Ernst's description, and sighed internally.
"Is this the truth?"
He understood everything. The truth was so simple, he didn't know what to feel.
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