The kings of the Light Dragon Empire stared at Orson, first dumbfounded, then seething with fury.
Most of them hailed from various races, but to live and thrive under the Empire's rule, they had been forced—at least in name—to worship the Light God and obey Emperor Bairinador.
As for the Archangel? That was no mere noble.
He hailed from the Celestial Kingdom itself—the object of countless believers' worship. A deity in all but name.
For Jenonis to inhabit the corpse of the previous Pope wasn't blasphemy to the Holy Light Church—it was divine ascension.
"You dare withstand the wrath of an angel, mortal!?"
Jenonis' voice thundered, golden divine radiance bursting like blades across the air.
Though labeled as quasi-God-tier, he was clearly stronger than most of his class.
Lawful power poured outward like a flood. Six ethereal angelic swords formed in the air, their tips aimed directly at Orson.
"Archangel, have mercy!"
