Chapter 168 – A Lifetime Enemy
Mashal stared at the words on the door.
To him, they were nothing short of a provocation.
"Is he daring me not to go in…?"
Anyone who read such a message would immediately realize something was wrong inside.
In the past, Mashal would have scoffed at it.
But after clashing with that man, he had personally experienced just how treacherous his opponent could be.
This time, he moved with extreme caution.
"With that bastard's style… there might already be traps right outside the door."
Dark green liquid spread from his feet, probing the ground ahead.
Soon, one floor tile caught his attention.
"It's been damaged… then carefully restored."
He lifted it—and found a bottle of holy water beneath.
"From the quality… three years old."
Mashal frowned. He hadn't expected the first trap alone to be this refined.
Then again, considering that man threw ten-year holy water like rocks, it wasn't that surprising.
"Next… the entrance itself."
The moment he stepped forward—
Splash!
Half his body dropped downward.
It wasn't serious, and he quickly stabilized himself.
But the burning sensation beneath his feet made his pupils shrink.
"Twenty-year holy water!"
Grinding his teeth, he immediately shielded himself with dark fluid.
It took several moments to neutralize the sacred power completely.
"Damn you! Who taught you to set traps like THIS?!"
His anger boiled.
"Three years… then sudden jump to twenty?!
Does your Church really waste holy artifacts like this?!"
Nearby, Abraham narrowed his eyes.
At first, he had intended to assist—but seeing Mashal's battered state, he quietly took a few steps back instead.
This mission wasn't his responsibility anyway. Someone else would be far more anxious than he was.
Mashal took a deep breath.
This was the first time since being granted the name Mashal that he had been toyed with so badly.
But the idol here had to be retrieved.
And then… he understood what true madness looked like.
Crosses on the doorframes.
Holy water hidden in flowerpots.
Those were merely appetizers.
Inside a room no wider than three meters, he triggered at least seven layered formations.
Each one was linked.
Trip one—and another followed.
One mistake, and he'd be sealed alive.
At that moment, Mashal truly wanted to ask:
Was this really necessary?!
Was he a real angel?
Did this level of paranoia make sense?
Did arranging this many formations not cost holy power?
And this was just a backup location!
He had always heard that the Church was riddled with corruption—that most priests lived for leisure and politics.
So where did this lunatic come from?
Then a thought struck him.
"…Could it be I simply walked into his most heavily defended location?"
The more he thought, the more it made sense.
Otherwise, this degree of sacred expenditure would require at least a cardinal.
But Mashal knew better.
Those people would never casually leave the Vatican.
"Try the next site."
He turned to leave—
But the formations he had dismantled were already reconstructing themselves.
Worse, they regenerated in chains.
By the time he returned to the doorway, everything was restored.
"Persistent bastard…"
---
Another location.
Same result.
Another one.
Same.
Then one more.
Finally—
In a corridor deep within City Hall—
"BASTARD!
BASTARD!
BASTARD!!!"
Mashal finally snapped.
Dark liquid smashed against the walls—
Only to be neutralized by isolation wards built into the structure itself.
Which only drove him further into rage.
"Hah… hah… damn it…"
That wretched priest.
Damn him!
Every single location.
Every single backup.
Had been trapped.
Now he had lost far too much time.
Even if he retrieved the idol…
The surgery might already be impossible.
Worse—
Church reinforcements could arrive at any moment.
This mission… had failed.
Blood dripped from the corner of Mashal's mouth.
He had planned everything—
Only to be crushed by an insignificant nobody.
No.
He could not accept this.
His eyes flashed with madness.
He began hammering his chest violently.
With every strike, waves of corrupted power poured outward.
Abraham did not stop him.
If Xila didn't return soon—
Then escape was their only option.
Moments later, green mist filled the hallway.
A distorted figure emerged.
Mashal stepped forward.
His eyes were blood-red.
Claws had grown from his hands.
His flesh had fused into hideously warped muscle.
He looked disturbingly similar to Xila—
Except his wings were incomplete.
"Begin the operation immediately," he said hoarsely.
"I'll retrieve the idol myself."
"This is too rushed," Abraham warned.
"Quality will suffer if the Skull of Despair is harvested like this."
Mashal shot him a frozen glare.
"…Understood."
Abraham adjusted his glasses.
Then—
BOOM!
Mashal shattered the floor beneath him—
And hurled himself like artillery into the room where the idol was kept.
Ssss—
Energy crashed violently.
Walls trembled.
The floor cracked.
Dark fluid leaked from his face like blood.
His body was reaching its limit.
Elsewhere—
Abraham blew into his empty bottle once again.
The corrupted clergy lifted their plastic bottles.
From each one fell a small knife.
Blades sank into flesh.
Blood streamed from their scalps.
Yet none screamed.
They shoved their hands into their wounds.
Moments later…
They collapsed.
Abraham had expected this.
Without the idol controlling them—
This "surgery" was simply suicide.
"Ha… got it."
Mashal's voice echoed.
He had finally broken through and seized the idol—
But before he could inspect it—
His hands burned.
Even the power of "Grafting" failed him.
He froze.
This wasn't an evil idol.
This was a holy artifact.
The power inside had already been converted.
Only now did Mashal realize—
Every prior trap had been a misdirection.
The real killing blow…
Had been the reversed idol all along.
From the very beginning—
He was destined to fail.
Toyed with.
Led by the nose.
Made a laughingstock.
"YOU DAMN PRIEST!!!"
His roar shook the corridor.
---
Inside the Auditorium
"Huh?" Caroline tilted her head.
"Did anyone hear someone yelling…?"
"Yeah," Bente nodded thoughtfully.
"They sounded pretty angry."
Haggai frowned.
"…Did those guys trigger something outside?"
Nearby, Gideon scratched his nose.
For some reason… it had been itching all this time.
By now, all the audience had fully awakened.
He had performed a complete purification ritual on everyone.
Beside him, Bettice studied the young priest carefully.
Earlier—
After destroying the runes under the seats—
He had insisted on inspecting every last attendee again.
She had never seen cleansing carried out so thoroughly.
After this…
Even a vagrant could be called "pure."
But Bettice fully approved.
Demons always planted seeds during moments of false victory—
Only to return one day.
With beings like that…
There could be no carelessness.
"It's time we dealt with them," Haggai said.
Earlier, he had already reversed the largest outer formation.
Now—
There was nowhere in the building left for evil to hide.
And with Gideon's traps outside…
The Wings of Vengeance had no escape routes left.
The group soon found the two men in the corridor.
They were surrounded by recovered clergy—
Yet none dared step closer.
They had seen what these two were capable of.
Abraham's brows knitted tightly.
After the first attempt at a frontal lobotomy, the clergymen regained consciousness.
That alone left Abraham in disbelief.
Unlike ordinary fallen angels, the Null Being's consciousness had existed for over a thousand years.
It did not belong to the physical world.
It had no form.
It could not be reached—even in theory—by physical means.
Only through consciousness itself could one ever come into contact with it.
Any soul that approached that realm would have its subjective will erased.
And yet…
That existence had vanished.
A chill ran through Abraham's spine.
Judging from the clergymen's condition, their souls had truly been restored—complete and intact.
If that was the case…
Then years of preparation, sacrifice, and experiment—
All of it had been undone in an instant.
His fists clenched tightly.
Though he did not know who had done this—
One face rose in his mind without hesitation.
The next second—
That face appeared in the crowd.
"Bastard!"
Mashal lunged forward on instinct—
But crashed violently into an invisible barrier.
Gideon stood there expressionless.
The others beside him, however, wore strange expressions.
Just minutes earlier, they had seen him walking calmly through the crowd with holy artifacts in hand—
Silently placing something at every corner—
Then returning to his spot with forced composure, as if nothing had happened.
Now—
Mashal stood face to face with his mortal enemy—
Yet could not touch him.
A furious roar escaped his throat.
Dark green liquid surged from his body.
Evil aura flooded the air.
The surrounding clergymen retreated in panic.
Only Abraham found himself completely exposed—
Several times nearly struck by the splashing corruption.
"We should talk," he said quickly, adjusting his glasses.
"Desire for 'life' is meaningless.
It is nothing more than a chain binding body and mind."
Gideon replied calmly—
Repeating Abraham's own earlier words back to him.
Abraham's jaw tightened.
If he could, he would tear this man apart—
But he understood one thing clearly:
This was not a situation where brute force would save him.
"I believe there has been a misunderstanding," Abraham said evenly.
"Your people are unharmed. Is that not so?"
"Unharmed?"
Gideon raised an eyebrow and gestured with his eyes toward the corpses on the floor.
"You slaughtered them with knives and rituals," he said flatly.
"Did it never occur to you that one day… the same would happen to you?"
Abraham narrowed his eyes.
"We can speak elsewhere," he persisted.
"I know the Church is searching for certain truths. Secrets we possess."
"There will be no negotiation," Gideon replied.
"The Church will judge you. And God will issue your sentence."
In front of so many witnesses, any 'deal' was out of the question.
Nearby, Bettice and the others raised their artifacts, preparing to bind the two men.
Then—
A crushing presence descended.
So immense that even Mashal froze.
BOOM!
The outer wall was violently torn apart.
Gideon narrowed his eyes.
In the broken air above—
A slender figure floated silently.