When the radiance finally faded, and Hel's temporarily blinded eyes began to adjust again, she discovered—horrified—that in the wake of that single strike, the sky, which had moments ago been thick with storm clouds, now looked as though it had been cleaved apart from the center.
Split cleanly into two.
The golden chains that had filled the heavens, along with the countless spears suspended beneath them, had all shattered in that blow, breaking into fragments that rained down from above.
The largest pieces were no bigger than a palm.
The smallest were scarcely the size of a fingernail.
Yet when they fell into the city below, they burst one after another into showers of golden sparks.
Many citizens who still hadn't grasped what was happening—and even some extraordinary beings who tried to stop the debris from falling—were caught in the instant those fragments detonated.
Countless arcs of brilliant golden lightning slithered like serpents, striking indiscriminately at everyone wandering outside.
And once those lightning-serpents wrapped around someone, unless they possessed sufficient strength as an extraordinary, there was only one outcome—being electrocuted alive into a charred corpse.
In an instant, the mere aftershock of the two men's probing exchange plunged the entirety of Savant City into chaos.
And once crowds began to surge and compress, stampedes became inevitable.
Seeing the city descend into madness, Hel immediately pulled Zephyra into a narrow alley to hide.
Only after most of the panicked masses had fled did she emerge again at an unhurried pace.
She lifted her gaze toward the brightened sky—but when she searched for John and Isaac, their figures were nowhere to be found.
She could only assume they had already entered their Mindscape Worlds, where their true battle was now unfolding.
As for what was happening inside…that was beyond her ability to determine.
Judging purely by strength, Isaac was clearly the stronger one.
But from his attire, he seemed to be a knight—someone not especially skilled in magic.
Even the Judgment Authority he wielded could not be freely controlled, causing a region of unstable authority leakage around him.
If it had been the former Hand of Holy Judgment, such a situation would never have occurred.
On the other hand, John had only reached the level of an eighth-star Saint.
His cultivation was inferior to Isaac's—yet within his Mindscape World stood a Holy Light Elven Mother Tree.
And not only that…it had been reshaped through his Harvest Authority and the modifications of others into a weapon of war.
And precisely because Hel understood Mother Trees so well, she knew—once their full power was awakened…they became existences of utterly terrifying magnitude.
Still, Hel doubted whether John could truly force the Holy Light Mother Tree to unleash power on the level of a demigod.
If he really could…then why waste so much breath arguing?
He could have simply erased Isaac in an instant.
Now that she had seen the two enter their Mindscape battle, Hel finally exhaled in relief.
The tension she'd been carrying eased.
Truthfully, compared to King-tier battles, Saint-tier combat often caused less destruction to the surrounding world—because most of it took place within the Mindscape itself.
Only someone like York—whose mentality had been shattered by Imshi, who had decided he could no longer afford to lose—would resort to sacrificing an entire city like Trod in a desperate struggle.
Otherwise, watching Saints fight was only truly dangerous during the brief window before they entered their Mindscapes.
Seeing that the two seemed relatively restrained, Hel led Zephyra toward the outskirts of Savant City.
Since it was unlikely the city would be completely destroyed, there was no need to drag everyone into a conspicuous evacuation.
Making too much noise would only draw attention.
Besides—as long as Hel herself remained alive, the souls of those who died would be taken by the Seed of Reincarnation buried beneath Savant's foundations.
Reviving them later would not be difficult.
What mattered most right now…was ensuring the safety of her own true body.
So, under the pretense of "inspecting the factories," Hel headed for the industrial workshops outside the city.
Calling them factories was almost an exaggeration.
They were closer to manual workshops.
There were no massive alchemical machines here—only small lathes and simple equipment.
Hel had built these places merely to provide local workers with employment.
She had never expected them to produce much of value.
And if she truly wished to crush the capitalists through commerce…the output of her undead factories alone would have been more than enough.
But after arriving, she discovered the production here was far higher than she had imagined.
Even though the equipment had been modeled after Savant's existing alchemical factories—her own technological understanding was generations beyond theirs.
Hel thought these machines were crude.
But in the eyes of the old masters of the Alchemy Institute…this equipment was vastly more advanced than anything they possessed.
Seeing this, Hel considered briefly, then instructed Niv to tighten security.
The puppet knights were to guard every entrance and intersection—to prevent any technological leakage.
Hel could guarantee—the moment her goods began impacting Savant's markets, those capitalists driven into desperation would stop at nothing to sabotage her workshops.
Security was the highest priority.
But while Hel's factories were being fortified…the defenses around Savant Cathedral were laughably loose.
The church received all kinds of civilians—coming to pray, or to donate.
The clergy simply could not register every single person who entered.
Thus, many with ulterior motives could easily exploit the opportunity to slip into restricted areas.
For example…the residential district behind the cathedral grounds.
At the very center of that district stood a private villa, guarded by armored church knights.
Yet their state was clearly poor—each one sluggish, inattentive.
As for their captain…it was almost absurd.
He was currently lounging beneath the shade of a tree, shaking dice with several squad leaders.
If an assassin had infiltrated here to strike at the villa's occupant, these knights wouldn't notice for quite some time.
After all, in their minds—this was the heartland of Southern human territory.
This was the domain of the Holy Tribunal Church.
And there was even a Saint from the Holy See stationed here.
How could any heretic possibly cause trouble?
But what they could never have imagined…was that during the brief window while John and Isaac were engaged in battle—a group had already slipped in silently.
As though they had coordinated long ago, they chose the exact moment John was absent.
And the lax church knights, faced with a squad of elite killers, didn't even have time to react—before their throats were cut open one after another.
In only a few moments, the area surrounding the villa was enveloped by figures clad in black cloaks…their faces hidden behind bone-white masks.