The Pope's sword clashed with the Hell Monarch, suspended in the void. His beard and hair danced as if in water, his eyes wide with hatred as he glared at Mula, who wore a faint smile.
"The lifespan of humans is indeed a fleeting moment. You've grown so old already, and now your power is not even half of what it was thirty years ago. How pitiful," the Hell Monarch said slowly, stretching out a finger and flicking it softly.
SNAP— A clear, resonating sound rang out, and the Pope's body instantly whooshed backward, flying away. In that instant, Yulia, bathed in Holy Light, appeared above, wielding the Divine Sword and slashing down towards the Hell Monarch.
BOOM—
The Hell Monarch gently pushed his hand out, and ripples waved behind him. Yulia's sword slash froze mid-air.
"Lord Pope, how are you?" Yulia asked anxiously, looking behind her at the Pope, who had been forcefully slammed to the ground, rolling continuously to the edge of the altar.
