York initially thought the elderly lady in the photo had died as a collateral victim.
But now, it seemed strangely peculiar.
Because he could feel that the resentful spirit's gaze was not of common resentment but rather one filled with a strong obsession.
"If you don't want to reveal it, then forget it."
York waited a few seconds for a response but, getting none, he promptly pulled the pin of a grenade and tossed it towards the resentful spirit.
Although the resentful spirit hadn't harmed anyone yet, it was a looming threat.
Over time, it would naturally evolve, filled with hatred for the dead, with a single thought: to kill.
As for the truth behind the elderly lady? It wasn't important to him. After all, he only needed to deal with the source, which was the upcoming Satanic cult, and the problem would be solved.
So, York just stood there, letting the grenade roll to a stop next to the wheelchair's wheel.
The countdown began: three seconds.
When he counted to two, York wrapped himself in a protective shield with his shield converter, and time seemed to pause.
The previously inactive resentful spirit suddenly stared at him intently, its black eyes bleeding tears that flowed over its pale, swollen face.
And once again, the environment around him changed instantaneously.
The evening sun penetrated the room, shining on him.
York squinted and turned his head to the right.
An elderly lady was crawling with her hands in a very eerie posture.
Her face was filled with pain, but her eyes were incredibly calm.
"Is this a memory from before you died?"
York watched as the old woman crawled into a room behind the staircase.
And in that room was the well.
York watched as the old lady crawled in, his face emotionless.
The next second.
A loud explosion sounded.
Holy flames burst in the living room, followed by a massive shockwave.
"Father, I just wanted to protect my grandson. There's something dirty harming him..."
Despite the flames and shockwave hitting him, York suddenly heard an old, hoarse voice.
"Cults harm people."
York sighed as the protective circle around him, along with the nearly shattered space, shattered altogether.
He returned to reality.
Feeling the resentment dissipate instantly.
Everything returned to how it was moments ago, with the child still lying on the floor.
But the ceiling light was flickering, indicating that other entities capable of affecting reality were present.
York, expressionless, focused his gaze on the living room entrance.
At the moment the resentment dissipated, a dark aura slowly gathered there, eventually forming a woman.
The woman from the photo who joined the cult, her facial features blurred, wearing a dirty, white tulle dress, surrounded by a dark mist.
"So it was you the old lady was talking about. She might have known something, discovered something, and turned herself into a resentful spirit to stop your invasion."
York murmured softly.
A hissing sound came from the woman's mouth filled with sharp teeth, and dark fluid started flowing from the walls and floors, threatening to engulf everything.
York pressed his right hand down, and his priestly robe fluttered without wind.
[20 mana points used]
[60 divine power points used]
The doubling of mana directly doubled the divine power, raising it to 1200 points.
It was his first time using them in conjunction, a pity it couldn't change his essence like the 2000 points did last time.
But the effect was excellent, his body bursting with bright holy light.
In that moment, the holy light, with York as the center, swept across the entire area.
The hissing woman, frozen in that moment, scattered with the light.
Day broke.
This made the monks and Thai officials outside, who were tasked with the eviction, stop their actions and all turned their gaze towards the house, shining like the sun.
"This..."
Father Matt's accompanying monk couldn't help but gasp. He suddenly remembered his own father's words when he mentioned Father York, his eyes filled with a hint of admiration.
"Deserving of Father York, huh..."
Watching the slowly dimming house, as darkness began to encircle it, the monk's eyes flashed with admiration for the strong.
"Not worth a strike, and yet you dare roar at me."
York dusted off the non-existent dust on him and looked towards the virtual window in front of him.
His stats were almost full, except for the instant depletion of 60 points of [Spirit/Divine Power].
"The remaining time is two hours, a total of 120 minutes, enough to recover to full status."
York waved his right hand, spending another two mana points to create a sealing circle from the Book of Libo over the child lying on the floor, then created two more circles capable of binding and draining dark power.
If this child was a demon's offspring, then it would be completely restrained.
After completing this, York walked towards the door, telekinetically grabbing a pack of holy grenades from his backpack and floating it beside him.
"Next up is to bury a timed holy grenade, the must-pass route is..."
York stared at the large open space outside the door, murmuring to himself.
...
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, in a certain basement.
A blond, blue-eyed man was watching a burning offering in his hands, his expression changing.
"Didn't expect such expenditure, yet the Church still has others on hand, impossible! After drawing out a bishop-level clergyman, who else has the strength to directly reach me through the dark spirit?"
The man casually discarded the offering, unfazed by the burn that wouldn't heal on his hand, staring at the burning altar in deep thought.
In the fleeting message from the dark spirit, he only saw a burst of light and nothing else.
"Could it be a holy relic?" The man frowned, still pondering, when a person in a hooded black robe emerged behind him.
"Bishop Marum, it's almost time."
"Yes, time is up."
Hearing this, the man took a deep breath, staring at the altar turned to ashes, and with a turn, his eyes became cold.
"It's not easy to find such a compatible child."
"Even though the Church has set its sights on him, our efforts have managed to hold them off. Although that offering has failed, there's still me! I can take her place and welcome the arrival of our god."
Saying this, the man named Marum walked towards the bowing believer.
"No matter the cost, we must replace the Church and change this world."
"Desire should not be suppressed! It should be unleashed!"
His words, filled with allure, ignited a fervor in the eyes of the bowing believer, who abruptly stood up, resolute in following Marum's steps.
In the dark basement, the sound of surging footsteps echoed.
In the dim light, as Marum walked forward, one after another hooded figure appeared behind him...
After walking fifteen meters.
York, with the 3D map in his mind, remotely controlled the holy timed grenade to fly to the edge of at least fifty meters, then used telekinesis to create a hole and bury the floating grenade.
"Done."
York watched the grenade being buried fifty meters away and returned to the house.
Choosing to sit on the sofa in front of the child, he quietly waited for the cult members to arrive.
Two hours slowly passed by.
After an hour, York received notification that the eviction was complete, and his status and stats were fully restored.
Another half hour passed, and a pile of equipment appeared on the table in front of him.
According to the message, Thai officials had set up devices within a five-mile radius around the house to detect anyone approaching, even knowing how many were coming.
Meaning, the primary function of the equipment in front of him was to inform him of arrivals.
"Optional."
Staring at the screen, York remained calm, quietly waiting, occasionally glancing at the wall clock to check the time.
After an indeterminate amount of time, York's eyes slightly narrowed as he looked at the wall clock and mentally counted down.
"Countdown sixty seconds."
With the countdown set in his mind, York's gaze shifted to the child on the floor, still enveloped by three sealing circles.
As he counted down to one, changes began to occur.
Not mentioning the atmosphere around him suddenly cooling, the dark aura swirling around the child was hitting the light emitted by the binding circles in wisps, indicating the cult members had arrived.
"Wanting to confirm the child's existence?" York seemed to see the people far away as if they were right in front of him, his lips curving slightly.
At this moment, no red dots appeared on his screen.
"No feedback?"
Seven kilometers away in an open field, a group of cultists stood en masse, their gaze focused on Marum at the forefront.
"The child has been moved?" Marum frowned slightly, looking in the direction of the house.
"No, the child is still there."
Marum looked down at a dried umbilical cord in his hand and crushed it under a moment of spiritual connection.
The feedback resulted in the dark aura around the child intensifying, transforming from wisps to a mass that charged at the binding light from the circles.
York's expression remained unchanged; he silently waved his hand, dissipating the effects of the binding circles, allowing the dark aura to swiftly escape.
"I'm not afraid of you running away."
York shook his head, focusing on the screen.
At this moment, Marum received feedback, fell silent for a moment, and continued leading the way forward, followed by the black-clothed people behind him.
When they were only two kilometers away, Marum waved his hand, signaling a halt.
"There might be Church people over there, let's test the waters first."
As his words fell, his followers began to act, performing a sacrificial summoning, just like in Bangkok.
The scent of blood began to spread.
Continuous chants filled the air, and dark auras quickly swept across the ground towards the house.
Unbeknownst to them, someone in the house was watching the entire process.
"One, two, three, four..."
The count stopped at forty-seven.
"They really exhausted most of their strength in Bangkok."
Thinking of the cult's sacrificial frequency in Bangkok, York focused on the red dot at the forefront. He knew this leading red dot was probably the cult leader, likely Marum.
Seeing the red dots suddenly stop, York couldn't help but murmur.
"Even more cautious than me, are you really a fearless cultist?"
As his murmur fell, a 3D human figure spontaneously appeared on the screen.
York, seeing the red dots suddenly appearing, knew what was happening.
"Scouts?"
York's demeanor remained unchanged; he didn't even move.
However, the assault rifles arrayed in a row floated up and three Calico M960s equipped with one hundred rounds of holy bullets flew out.
After learning about the events in Bangkok.
He had already realized that the cult's summoning of demon legions was a technique documented in the Book of Libo.
It described a nameless demon and methods to summon its essence and borrow its power, albeit each summoning and borrowing required a sacrifice, through soul and body offerings via specific circles.
"This demon is clever."
Thinking this, York could almost see skeletons climbing out of the mounds of earth, swarming his 3D map and the screen with red dots.
"However, I am different from other clergy. What I least fear is this kind of human wave tactic."
York remained calm, focusing on the screen.
"Because I have something they don't."
As the skeletons staggered towards the house, transitioning from walking to running, the three Calico M960s at the door aimed at the skeleton group and activated. The triggers were pulled.
In that instant, the space seemed to freeze, and the air became scorching hot.
Ratatatata!
The muzzles of the three assault rifles spewed flames.
Spiral-turned holy bullets poured out, targeting the approaching skeletons.
Within a second, twelve holy bullets were fired from each gun.
That's 36 holy bullets flying through the air in that instant.
Ratatatata!
In the dark sky, a net of holy bullets directly enveloped the surging skeletons.
With precise control under the combined power of telekinesis and the 3D map, each holy bullet hit either the forehead or the heart of a skeleton.
Along with the intense gunfire, a spectacular scene unfolded.
A line ten meters from the gun muzzles appeared as if marking a no-entry zone for the skeletons.
Behind this line, the swarming skeletons turned into clouds of dispersing black mist, vanishing into nothingness.
Sitting comfortably on the sofa, York watched as the red dots rapidly disappeared without forming on the screen, and the 3D figures vanished, unsurprised.
Holy bullets were not ordinary bullets; if they could still revive, he might as well flee.
Watching more red dots appear behind the disappearing ones, York simply waved his right hand, and five Calico M960s swiftly flew out.
The air once again became scorching, and with the sound of gunfire, the skeletons still couldn't cross that line, continuously exploding into clouds of black mist behind it.
"I want to see how many more you can sacrifice."
York, observing the screen where only thirty-seven red dots remained, further away, smiled faintly and listened to the symphony of gunfire outside.
Until the gunfire ceased.
A total of eight hundred holy bullets were used up in an instant.
Below the glowing red gun barrels, nothing else remained in front of them.
As if the swarming skeletons had been an illusion, they vanished into thin air.
Bang!
The eight floating Calico M960s, having completed their task, fell to the ground.
York, comfortably settled, shifted to a more comfortable position, watching the thirty-seven immobile red dots on the screen, and whispered.
"These red dots should have mediums among them? I wonder how many and of what strength."
A hint of mockery flashed in York's eyes.
"Go on, continue sacrificing yourselves in exchange for stronger power. The demon you worship as a god loves the taste of such delicious souls..."
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