"Of course, it's me. What, have you all forgotten me already?" Asa let out a long breath.
His hands were firmly gripping Adra's wrist and throat. Looking around at the stunned faces surrounding him, he spoke, "I'd strongly advise against any reckless moves. With just a little pressure, this bishop's neck will snap into tiny fragments. And with a mere flick of necromantic magic, his brains will turn into a puddle of sludge—no holy magic will be able to heal that."
The gathered high priests, Talice, and the bishops had each taken their positions, surrounding Asa alongside Lancelote. But not a single one dared to act rashly.
Even though they might not yet have realized that Adra's body had been possessed by the true Pope through soul magic, this was still the bishop serving as the acting pope.
"I never expected it to be you."
Adra shook his head, his voice heavy and tinged with bitterness, as if it had been steeped in vinegar. The orcs had come too suddenly, and from the very beginning of the battle, everyone had been too preoccupied to spare a thought for anything else. Even if someone had suspected it, there was simply no way to pay attention to what was happening on his end in such chaos.
"To be honest, I didn't think I'd actually make it out either. I originally thought I'd already been reduced to a pile of charred remains..." Asa nodded.
In the dark red clouds of fire, dozens of massive meteors blazed downward. The archangel, surrounded by a radiant holy aura, slashed through the falling fireballs one by one, scattering them in all directions. At that very moment, Asa was desperately struggling inside his steel prison. Though he couldn't see the breathtaking scene unfolding above him, he could sense it with chilling clarity. A meteor, as large as a mountain, had slipped past the archangel's defense, roaring downward like rolling thunder.
Unfortunately, no matter how much he struggled, the outcome remained unchanged—just as it had been countless times before. The chains binding him and the steel prison that confined him held fast, utterly unyielding. All he could do was listen as the deafening winds grew louder, until they roared like an avalanche, and feel the searing heat that not even the iron walls of his cage could block out.
Boom!
A fire meteor, weighing tens of thousands of pounds, crashed into the ground with a deafening explosion. The impact sent flames, dirt, and shattered stone flying in all directions. Amidst the chaos, the steel prison was crushed and twisted like a ball of discarded scrap paper, flung into the air. Though it had only been struck by the meteor's outer edge, the once-indestructible cage was instantly reduced to rubble.
Asa felt as though his own body had been torn apart. His fight spirit had long been sealed, his magic power suppressed—he was no different from an ordinary person. Against this apocalyptic force, even the strongest flesh was as fragile as paper. The violent tremors shattered both his chains and his body in one merciless strike. Blood had no chance to spill before the scorching heat of the meteor's fire magic seared him to the core, half-cooking him alive.
But then, under the cascading rain of holy light, his near-dead flesh miraculously began to heal at an astonishing speed. With the anti-magic chains and the prison gone, the holy magic within him immediately drew in the divine healing power meant to save the suffering masses. Ironically, the Pope's final act of magic—the forbidden spell he had cast with his dying breath—had first and foremost saved him.
"Actually, I did anticipate that you might escape," Adra admitted, his voice tinged with incredulity. "What I didn't expect was that after breaking free, you wouldn't run—but instead, you'd take such a massive risk to come here."
"Running away has never been my habit. If there's a chance to solve the problem once and for all, isn't that better than constantly fleeing? Besides, if I had escaped, how would I have gotten such a perfect opportunity now?"
As Asa loosened and then tightened his grip, the World Tree Leaf, which had been in Adra's hand, now rested in his own.
Adra and Lancelote's faces changed at the same time, but Asa immediately tightened his grasp and said, "Don't move. If you really don't want to negotiate, I don't mind. I can kill this guy and still get away safely."
Adra suddenly gave a faint smile and said, "Sorry, but I have no real value as a hostage. I'm merely acting as His Holiness's temporary proxy. Compared to the World Tree Leaf and you, my life is insignificant. Sir Lancelote, you need not hesitate."
"There's no need to put on an act for me, Your Holiness. Do you really want me to say it out loud?" Asa spoke softly before Lancelote could respond. His voice was so low that only Lancelote and the Pope could hear him clearly. "I can sense it—it's you. This man's demeanor and tone are completely different from before. And considering the way Lancelote speaks to you, I only acted after confirming it. I may not fully understand what method you used, but I can guess that it's not something that should be openly discussed. So, you'd best stop trying to fool me."
"Enough, let him go." Lancelote sighed and suddenly spoke. "His Holiness and I can agree to pardon you from now on. Orford is already doomed—there's little use for you to us now."
Asa smiled slightly and shook his head. "If this were before, I would have gladly accepted such an offer. But now that I hold such a valuable bargaining chip, of course, I won't agree."
"Don't get too smug," Lancelote took a step back, placing his hand on the unconscious Ayime, who was lying in Talice's arms. "This little girl is in our hands. If you let him go, I'll let both of you leave. How about that?"
"If I don't let him go, you'll still have to let us leave," Asa chuckled.
"Do you believe that I won't hesitate to kill her right now?" Lancelote's voice carried a sharp edge.
"And do you believe that if you do, I'll do the same?" Asa was still smiling.
A faint smile also appeared on Adra's face as he said, "If you make a move, you're dead. This is just a little girl—I don't believe you'd throw your own life away for her. I can see that you're not foolish enough to sacrifice everything for some misguided sense of sentimentality. In the name of the Pope, I promise to pardon all of your crimes. From now on, you will be free."
"Even if you're right, I wouldn't risk my own life just for her. But what I do believe is that the Pope's life is worth far more than this. If all I wanted was a pardon, I wouldn't have taken this risk in the first place."
"Do you really want to test me?" Lancelote moved his hand, his fingers pressing into Ayime's neck. A crimson line of blood immediately seeped into her pale skin.
"Go ahead, try," Asa remained still, his expression unchanging, his smile as rigid as stone. "I'm not some naive rookie—I can handle this. If you truly think I won't act, then keep going and see what happens. But I know one thing for sure—you can't afford to gamble."
"Master…" Talice's face turned pale. Even she could tell that the killing intent radiating from Lancelote was real. Under his hand, Ayime was no stronger than an ant.
Lancelote ignored her, staring coldly at Asa. Adra's expression darkened as well—having his life in someone else's hands, ready to be snuffed out at any moment, was not a pleasant feeling.
After a long silence, Lancelote finally nodded and let out a cold snort. "Fine. What do you want?"