He came!
That mysterious "sorcerer"… he really came?
The tolling of bells echoed in everyone's ears. In their vision, the orderly lines of the church's knights suddenly shifted into an attack formation.
All across the Holy City, countless curious faces peeked out from windows, craning to see. Priests poured into the mountainside buildings, eager to gaze out toward the plains.
In truth, many within the city shared the same thoughts as Bishop Xisa. From any perspective, once the church's forces had all returned to the Holy Plain, that mysterious sorcerer would have no chance to strike again.
Yet what no one expected was—he actually came.
It was a truly shocking turn of events.
Meanwhile, on the plains, the chained sorcerers fell silent, the cold rain soaking them through, driving away their drowsiness.
The bells rang from behind, in the city. Ahead, the knights' formation grew taut, reacting sharply to a single command that rolled across the plain: "Enemy at the gates!"
"What's happening?"
"Enemy? What enemy could the church possibly have?"
The sorcerers strained to see, Gray stretching his neck, Annie tiptoeing beside him. But their view was blocked completely: only the steel backs of countless mounted knights, and beyond them, the rain-darkened mountains.
…
Through the drizzle, Lin Tuo looked up casually at a flying beast circling away, then lowered his gaze without breaking stride.
Beneath the gloomy sky, thousands of armored knights formed an unyielding wall of steel.
He had already confirmed that they had been waiting here specifically for him. That was illogical, too deliberate. A sign that something abnormal was happening within the church.
From here, he could feel an invisible oppression hanging over the Holy City. Though intangible, the sense of danger was very real—like a beast poised to strike. That was why he hadn't teleported directly into the city, nor risked sending his true body.
Caution was necessary.
And compared to the narrow streets of a city, this wide plain was far more suitable for him to fight in. Not to mention the sorcerers gathered here like bait.
A trap, for me? The thought made Lin Tuo's expression strange.
He stopped walking, standing not far from the knights' massive formation.
"Were you waiting for me?" His voice, amplified with a resonance technique, carried calmly and evenly across the battlefield.
At once, the steel phalanx shuddered with agitation, as though provoked, yet something kept them firmly in place.
Behind them, the captive sorcerers heard the voice clearly. First stunned, then bewildered.
Even in the Holy City itself, the priests watching from high above whispered in alarm.
"Heretic, you surprise me." Finally, the lead knight—immense in stature, clad in silver plate, wielding a greatsword—spoke with a voice like a drum.
"The Pope was right. You truly came." His tone suddenly sharpened, rising into a furious roar that rolled across the plain:
"But do you think you can oppose the Order? That saving a handful of heretics gives you the right to intrude upon the Holy Plain, to challenge the authority of God?!"
His fury seemed genuine. To him, Lin Tuo's very presence was an insult to the entire knightly order.
At his words, the bound sorcerers stirred, hearts racing.
So it's him…
The one who saved the others… he really came?
Hope sparked, however fragile.
"Daddy… is that man here to save us?" Annie's pale, rain-drenched face glowed faintly with expectation.
But Gray only tightened his jaw, anxiety etching deep lines across his face. Around them, most shared his fear.
For they knew—even the strongest extraordinary could not stand against the entirety of the knightly order. Thousands of battle-hardened elites, empowered by divine spellcasters. This was the mightiest military force on the continent.
Once they charged, nothing—no one—could withstand them.
Even the Pope himself would be crushed beneath this steel tide.
How much less a nameless "sorcerer"?
Gray longed to shout, to beg the stranger to flee, but his frail body could not muster the strength. And the chance was gone anyway, for the knight commander roared:
"All forces, slay the heretic!"
Thousands of armored knights drew their blades in unison.
Shing—shing—shing—
The ringing of steel filled the plain as divine spellcasters raised their staves, weaving mass blessings across the ranks. Ether boiled, long swords trembled, thunder roared from their edges.
Across from them, Lin Tuo's expression shifted ever so slightly. Even without clashing, he knew: this avatar could not defeat them.
That single towering knight commander alone radiated a mortal threat. Add the thousands of disciplined knights and their unified strength…
He had to admit—head-on, he could not prevail.
"What a pity…" Facing the sea of drawn blades, Lin Tuo sighed, without a trace of fear.
"Pity?" The knight commander repeated, instinctively uneasy.
"Yes. Pity," Lin Tuo said softly. "For all your deeds, your cultivation and discipline are impressive. If I were merely a sorcerer, I would indeed perish here today."
He paused, his expression deepening. "But unfortunately… I am not a sorcerer."
Throwing wide his arms, his cloak billowed. His hood fell back, revealing a calm face—alien to this continent's people.
His eyes dulled, losing all light. The faint etheric aura vanished completely.
…
At that same moment, in the study of the Lishan Dojo, Lin Tuo's true body opened its eyes. Turning to the great sand table, he reached out.
The map expanded, revealing the Holy City and the steel tide upon the plains.
Exhaling gently, he brushed aside the clouds, lifted his avatar from the board with one hand, and with the other—raised a single finger, and pressed it down.
…
On the plain, all eyes widened as the cloaked figure suddenly rose into the stormy sky, arms spread wide beneath the thunder-laden clouds.
"Look!"
"It's him—the strong one!"
The captive sorcerers finally saw their savior clearly. Priests and clergy across the Holy City gasped.
"A flight spell?"
"Useful for retreat, perhaps—but in battle? Does he think it will spare him?"
Yet Archbishop Xisa froze, his senses screaming. No magic—none at all—emanated from that floating figure.
And then—
"The sky!" A young priest cried out, pointing upward.
The storm clouds writhed, surging like a raging sea. An invisible force churned them, and with it, an unspeakable pressure fell upon the world.
Flying beasts shrieked and scattered, terror driving them across the city's rooftops.
"What is that?"
"A forbidden spell?"
"No spell could do this…"
The sorcerers on the plain rose to their knees, trembling as the alien force pressed down, unlike any magic they had ever known.
"The sky—it's breaking!"
Before their eyes, the storm clouds collapsed, opening into a colossal void. Rain poured in sheets.
"Formation! Holy Light Slash!" the knight commander bellowed.
The entire army responded flawlessly. Thousands of knights raised their swords, spellcasters lifted glowing staves. Pure light erupted, chains of brilliance weaving together like a sea of stars.
"Slay the heretic!"
With a thunderous shout, the army unleashed its might. Thousands of radiant blades cut toward the lone figure above.
But then—
From the heavens, an immense, unseen finger descended.
Every beam of holy light winked out.
And in the next instant, under the pounding rain, that finger crushed down upon the army.
Armor screeched and warped, blood bursting forth from every seam like blooming roses.
Thousands of knights, spellcasters, all—obliterated in an instant.
The finger pressed further, driving into the ground itself.
The earth caved with a roar, collapsing into a vast crater.
From above, it was unmistakable: a massive fingerprint stamped into the Holy Plain.
The storm soon washed away the dust. The tremors stilled.
All that remained was the ruined land, a shadowy figure hovering above—
And countless people struck dumb in silence.