Hero? Are You Worthy?
Chapter 533 - 375: The Dirtiest, Most Filthy Evil Fetus (4)

Chapter 533: Chapter 375: The Dirtiest, Most Filthy Evil Fetus (4)

For more than twenty years, a pillar that had always supported Augustus collapsed at that moment.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Ah!

Ahhhhhh!

The elegance and nobility of the Pope had completely vanished by then, and at that moment, only heartrending screams remained in Augustus’s throat.

His eyes were lifeless.

His body spasmed as if electrocuted.

He seemed to be crying, but it resembled more of a hoarse wailing.

The corners of his eyes rolled down not tears but blood, for his tears had long since dried up.

Perhaps, this is what appears when sadness reaches its ultimate limit.

For over twenty years, Augustus had struggled in pain, the hatred for revenge driving him to desperately chase after power, but a person cannot live in hatred forever, no matter how steadfast, eventually succumbing to the torment of hate, step by step towards collapse.

Reason will be lost, willpower will disperse, the soul will become exhausted.

During this extended time, it was Philis who continuously brought hope to Augustus.

Augustus couldn’t forget, when Luo Sifeili first appeared before him, bringing a brief moment of peace, how thrilled he had been, his aged face crisscrossed with tear marks.

Augustus couldn’t forget, when Philis first ate like a human, how joyful he had been, like a child.

He couldn’t forget, when Philis, even after he had unlocked her chains, still obediently crouched by his side, how warm his heart had felt.

He couldn’t forget more so, when Philis first had a normal conversation with him, though only a few simple syllables, how scorching the temperature of hope had been.

Hope.

Just two simple words, yet for Augustus, they were an absolute luxury.

How many times had Augustus fantasized, waiting for the day Philis would fully recover, that they could snuggle together as before, basking in the sunshine.

He himself telling Philis about the changes to the Empire and the Holy Court during this long time.

It didn’t matter if Philis didn’t remember anything, even if starting from babbling, he would always accompany her.

But who could have thought, when he returned once again, all he could see was a cold corpse?

He hated, he despaired, he wanted to question this damned world, why had it been so cruel to him?

Even taking away the last bit of light in his life.

Supporting Augustus were two pillars, one had collapsed, how much longer could the remaining one hold?

It was only after losing Philis that Augustus realized, Philis was still the most important in his heart; if Philis could have lived, he would have preferred not to contemplate revenge...

Perhaps, he should never have left the Imperial City in the first place.

Unfortunately, by the time Augustus realized this, it was already too late.

Hate! Hate! Hate!

All the pain, all the sorrow, all the despair, all turned into intense hatred.

Augustus hated the world, hated the gods, hated the Holy Court, hated the murderer who killed Philis, and even hated himself!

In the Holy Hall, numerous clergy members looked at each other in bewilderment; when they saw Augustus charging over at an extreme speed, these people were even ready for combat, but who could have expected it to end like this?

For a while, everyone looked at each other, clutching their weapons, unsure whether to rush over and hack Augustus to death or to stay where they were.

They even felt that Augustus, the Pope, sorrowed more for the death of Philis than Lady Losveis, his own daughter.

None doubted the authenticity of the bloody tears in Augustus’s eyes and the agony on his face; they were absolute, unfeignable releases of genuine emotions.

What in the world was happening?

Did Augustus truly kill Philis?

This peculiar situation uncontrollably bred doubt in everyone’s hearts.

Whispering amongst themselves, the rustling noises continued unendingly.

No one knew how long had passed when Augustus finally struggled up from the ground, his appearance then devoid of any papal dignity, covered in filth and grime, his eyes, face, and mouth all stained with crimson blood.

His body staggered towards the ice coffin, and it seemed that anyone who approached could chop Augustus down with a single strike.

Yet inexplicably, an eerie aura emanated from Augustus.

Subconsciously, the crowd parted in the middle, and hundreds of clergy automatically cleared the way, staring as Augustus made his way step by step towards the ice coffin.

Creak, creak... creak...

Strange sounds began emanating from Augustus’s body, whether from his teeth or somewhere else, it was unclear.

Beneath that wrinkled skin, it seemed as though one could see sinewy things continuously writhing, his eyes had turned a deep crimson.

Allowing the thick crimson blood to roll down his cheeks, dripping onto the floor.

Every step he took, the solid floor immediately bore huge cracks, spreading like a spider-web, extending to the walls of the Holy Hall, the pristine walls filled with finger-wide cracks.

Even the Holy Cathedral, which had hardly been damaged even during the major earthquake, seemed on the verge of collapse.

Augustus’s body finally struggled to the front of the ice coffin as his fingers touched the cold casket.

The next moment, with a crack, the ice coffin instantly shattered.

Countless tiny crystals dispersed in mid-air, scattering far and wide.

They fell on the ground, on Philis’s face, and on Augustus’s shoulders.

"Who..."

"Who killed Philis?"

"Who?"

"Who?"

"Who?"

Augustus, nearly neurotic, kept repeating these words. His voice wasn’t loud, but each word stabbed at people’s hearts like a knife.

Every word carried an unbearable authority.

Those of lesser strength couldn’t even bear it, feeling an intense pressure and pain in their chest and abdomen, spitting out blood with pale faces.

"Who?"

"Who?"

Augustus’s voice continued to echo in the Holy Hall, the reverberations fading slowly.

The dreadful oppressive feeling almost materialized, like a towering mountain weighing down on everyone’s hearts.

Even Douglas, Rose Vesper, and those powerful Great Sages couldn’t withstand this terrifying pressure and turned pale.

Everyone knew Augustus was powerful, but he rarely displayed his strength in front of the Holy Court’s believers. Rose Vesper horrifically realized that she had underestimated him; the Pope was far stronger than imagined.

Qin Chu’s expression turned somber as the eerie movements beneath Augustus’s skin made him involuntarily think of Wozworth.

This world is truly beyond salvation.

The three most powerful entities of the human world, Saint Monica is a disciple of desires.

Wozworth and Augustus both have been tainted by the Evil God’s Blood.

Now only Wise Mountain remains somewhat pure.

The surrounding area was dead silent, with no one daring to speak at this moment, except for Qin Chu who took a deep breath.

He slowly approached Augustus, even gently patting Augustus’s shoulder, "Your Holiness..."

"Mr. Brave, you’re here too?" Augustus seemed to notice Qin Chu’s presence for the first time, his voice slightly surprised, and the intense madness in his eyes slightly subsided.

"Lady Losveis and Her Majesty Saint Monica invited me to witness the ceremony."

"Lady Losveis says you killed Saintess Philis."

Qin Chu shamelessly told the truth.

"Augustus, tell me it’s not true. You’re a merciful elder, you wouldn’t do such a thing, right?"

"It must have been a demon, yes, that Luo Meng fellow, he has already killed many human masters."

Luo Meng, carrying a little blame, probably wouldn’t mind, or rather might even be thrilled about it.

But whether it was Luo Meng or not was no longer important, by merely mentioning Rose Vesper’s name at this moment, Qin Chu had already shifted all of Augustus’s suspicions onto Rose Vesper.

Sure enough, Augustus’s pupils suddenly constricted, his gaze swiftly turned towards Rose Vesper’s direction, looking at the Holy Daughter, along with a Cardinal, three former Hero Team members, four vice-captains of the Holy Knight Order, six archbishops, and over twenty bishops...

Augustus was no fool.

He had been merely shocked by the image of Philis’s death before and overlooked his surroundings, but now when Augustus saw these people, he immediately understood what was happening.

"Mr. Brave, you really are a good man." Augustus’s eyelids lowered as he spoke softly.

This man may not know how many eyes were focused on him, conspiracy and schemes entangling him like chains.

"You should leave here." Augustus suddenly smiled, "I fear I might lose control later, and it would be bad if I hurt you."

This was Augustus’s last piece of advice.

However, Qin Chu’s expression became odd. Being praised as a good man was indeed a strange feeling.

A faint smile curved at the corner of his lips; he wasn’t going to leave. Such an enthralling performance, Qin Chu would definitely stay till the curtain fell.

Augustus’s gaze fixed on Rose Vesper as he took steps towards her.

His voice, deep and suppressed:

"You filthy mixed-breed, carrying the dirtiest blood, perhaps I should have never been so soft-hearted at the moment of your birth, and simply strangled you in your cradle."

"Filthy evil fetus, no matter what teachings and baptisms you undergo, you cannot change your vicious and cruel nature."

"Rose Vesper, you even killed your own biological mother."

As soon as this was said, the surroundings erupted into an uproar.

Augustus was actually accusing Rose Vesper of personally killing Santess Philis?

What exactly was happening?

And, what did he mean by ’filthy evil fetus’? Was he referring to Rose Vesper?

Isn’t the Holy Daughter the Daughter of God?

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