He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

But Shen Ye ignored him.

The tip of the spear of judgment pierced his left palm, and the golden blade emerged from the back of his hand, drawing out a string of crimson blood beads.

Shen Ye didn't even frown.

Golden flames ignited on the spear.

Flames spread from the spear to his arm, and then from his arm to his entire body, enveloping him like a blazing golden human torch.

The holy seal runes on his wrist began to twist and deform.

The ancient runes wriggled like living things, rearranging and combining to form a completely new set of patterns that no one had ever seen before.

"With the blood of the Son of God as the catalyst, and the spear of judgment as the key—"

Shen Ye's voice became low and hoarse in the flames, each syllable carrying a weight that did not belong to the mortal world, as if he were conversing with an existence from another dimension in some ancient language that had long been lost.

"I am willing to sacrifice a million believers to judge the greatest heresy in the world!"

"The Ghost Emperor of Youdu—Yun Yi!!!"

The sound still echoed in the air, and the golden flames on the spear of judgment had already burned through the deck of the bridge.

No one expected their holy son to make such a decision.

The battlefield cardinal knelt on the ground, staring at Shen Ye with disbelief in his eyes.

But he couldn't say anything.

The golden flames spreading from the spear of judgment transformed into countless fine golden threads the moment they touched the first cultist, spreading outwards like a spider web.

Those golden threads pierced through the deck, the bulkheads, and the armor layers of the warship, spreading from the flagship to the entire fleet, the entire barracks, and the entire battlefield.

The cardinal was the first person to be touched by the golden thread.

He opened his mouth, wanting to call out "Your Highness," but his throat turned to gold dust before he could utter a sound.

A battlefield cardinal who had held a high position of power among the true bishops for over forty years was thus transformed into a pile of flowing golden powder enveloped in holy light, completely absorbed by the golden threads.

The other officers on the bridge began to scream.

Some people took off running, but Jin Xian was faster than anyone else.

They sprang up from the floor, hung from the ceiling, and crawled out from the cracks in the walls, like snakes with independent consciousness, precisely chasing after every fleeing person.

Those who were entangled began to turn to dust before they fell, and their screams were choked in their throats before they could even reach the bridge.

Beyond the flagship, the gold threads had spread throughout the entire fleet.

Outside the warships, golden lines flowed along the ground toward the military camp.

The Knights Templar did not flee.

When the golden threads spread into their ranks, these elite knights, baptized by the holy light, indeed displayed a reaction quite different from that of ordinary soldiers—they did not scream, they did not scatter, they simply stood quietly in place, as if they already knew their fate.

The true bishop's million-strong army—including the diocesan garrison, the Knights Templar, the Holy Wing Guard, logistics personnel, and everyone Shen Ye brought to this battlefield—was all transformed into the purest holy light energy as the golden threads spread.

Golden dust rose from every corner of the battlefield, converging into a mighty golden river that flowed upstream towards the bridge of the flagship in the sky.

On the bridge, Shen Ye stood in the middle of the flowing golden river.

The wound on his left palm where the spearhead had pierced his skin had stopped bleeding—the holy light energy that had surged into his body was so overwhelming that his blood had turned gold, so overwhelming that every blood vessel emitted a faint golden glow under his skin, and so overwhelming that his eyes had completely transformed into a pair of burning golden light cores, with his pupils and irises swallowed up by the light.

All the holy light energy drawn from the million-strong army converged on the spear of judgment in his right hand.

The golden flames on the spear were no longer in the form of flames, but were compressed into a thin, almost transparent golden film that tightly wrapped around the surface of the spear.

Only the occasional energy fluctuations escaping from the edge of the light membrane can make people realize how terrifying the power is contained within this seemingly calm membrane.

Ten thousand meters above the ground, Yun Yi did not wait.

He wouldn't be so foolish as to just watch Shen Ye sacrifice his million-strong army and then fight him one-on-one.

The moment Shen Ye began his sacrifice, he was already prepared to go over and kill him.

But before he could move, countless white chains of light suddenly lit up in the surrounding clouds.

The chains pierced out from the sea of ​​clouds, as if they had been lying in ambush, wrapping around him from all directions and locking his limbs, torso, and neck.

The Sacred Chains of Heaven.

One of the three sacred artifacts of the True Bishop, and also the most difficult to defend against.

It can lock not only the physical body, but also all forms of energy flow within the target's body.

The moment he was locked in place, Yun Yi's true essence seemed to freeze and stagnate in his meridians, making it impossible for him to even speak.

What's more troublesome is that the spatial confinement power carried by the chains also sealed off the surrounding space—the space within a hundred meters around him was compressed into an invisible piece of amber. His body, his energy, and everything about him were frozen in the center of this amber, making even breathing difficult.

The person who propelled this divine artifact was not Shen Ye.

Shen Ye was sacrificing a million-strong army and had no energy left to control the Sacred Sky-Locking Chains.

The person who pushed it stood on the holy mountain at the rear of the battlefield, wearing a white papal robe. His withered hands were raised high, his ten fingers spread out, and a fine thread of holy light extended from the tip of each finger, connecting with the chains on Yun Yi's body.

The Pope of the True Bishops—an old man who has lived for three hundred years and whose lifespan is constantly extended by the power of holy light—is standing at the edge of the Holy Mountain Rift, his body burning with a blazing holy light that is completely incongruous with his age.

Of the three sacred artifacts, the Sacred Chain of Heaven is the only one that requires the user to possess both sufficient vitality and energy to activate; in the entire True Bishop's repertoire, only the Pope himself can activate it.

However, the cost of activating it is extremely high—each activation of a chain requires burning a century of the user's lifespan.

The Pope trapped Yun Yi, activating a total of nine chains.

Nine hundred years of lifespan vanished the moment the chains were activated.

Yun Yi glanced down at the chains binding him, then looked up at Shen Ye's direction.

They even had a backup plan, so they're not that stupid after all.

But that's all there is to it—it has some foundation.

He closed his eyes.

The next instant, an indescribably enormous Dharma image burst forth from Yun Yi's body.

It was a phantom with the exact same face as Yun Yi, but its height instantly rose to ten thousand feet.

The magnificent Buddha image rose from the sea of ​​clouds, its head piercing through the clouds and its shoulders supporting the sky.

The area above the waist was beyond the limits of most people's vision; only two arms hung down from the sea of ​​clouds, each palm large enough to cover half of the city of Youdu.

The laws of heaven and earth.

The second path of the divine powers of heaven and earth.

The moment the Dharma form appeared, the nine sacred Heaven-Locking Chains wrapped around Yun Yi began to tremble violently.

Those chains that could seal off space and freeze energy emitted a mournful metallic cry of unbearable strain the moment the ten-thousand-foot-tall Dharma Form opened up space.

One by one, the ancient sacred runes on the surface of the chain burst open, and with each burst, the Pope on the holy mountain coughed up blood.