In mid-air, the sea of holy light disappeared along with the Pope, as if they never existed. The falling moon turned into countless raindrop-like pieces. The core of the moon, the pale-faced Supreme Tian Yue, gently wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and then slowly flew back without saying a word.
All of the spectators inside and outside the city, near and far, were stunned. The change a moment ago was too fast that people could not even judge what was going on in the current situation. Did Tian Yue won, or the Pope?
If the Pope won, why was the evil heretic Tian Yue still alive? And if Tian Yue won, with his mad dog temperament, how could he be so silent? Even if he was seriously injured, he would loudly boast of his victory.
