Chapter Seventy-Five: Fleeing in Fear of Guilt?

“What’s going on here?” Viviane and her companions rushed over upon receiving the news, only to witness the dignified Deputy Inquisitor of the Holy Light Church, Cardinal Ryan, reduced to sniveling and begging for mercy before Zhou Tian. The spectacle left them stunned.

Viviane and Ryan had clashed more than once; while their enmity was not blood-deep, they could certainly be considered rivals. Because Viviane knew Ryan so well, she understood that aside from his authority, he possessed formidable power. When she learned that Ryan and Zhou Tian had gone to the same place, she immediately sensed trouble. Yet all of them assumed Zhou Tian would suffer at Ryan’s hands, and hurried over to rescue him. Now, discovering Zhou Tian not only unharmed but with Ryan thoroughly subdued, such an outcome was wholly unexpected.

“Well, you’re here!” Zhou Tian greeted Viviane’s sweating party with a casual wave, feeling a warm surge in his heart.

“Well? Well, my foot!” Viviane snapped. “How did you get in trouble again? No matter how rotten he is, he’s still a Cardinal. To do this to him—are you not afraid of the Church’s wrath?” Though surprised by the situation, Viviane quickly regained her composure. Considering the possible consequences, she rubbed her aching forehead and couldn’t help but lecture Zhou Tian.

Unlike Viviane, the others were far less concerned. Especially Afra, whose penchant for chaos left her positively delighted. “Captain, you’re incredible! I adore you. How did you do it? I’ve wanted to teach that old man a lesson for ages, but he always outmatched me, strutting around. Who’d have thought you’d finally put him in his place—pig head! Ha, ha! That look suits him perfectly!”

Viviane, furious as a provoked tigress, knocked Afra out with a single punch, then glared warningly at the others. She turned solemnly to Zhou Tian, “Captain, what now? We won’t be able to keep this under wraps for long. Once word gets out, the Inquisition will come after us with everything they’ve got!”

“How am I supposed to know?” Zhou Tian shrugged, innocent. “I just couldn’t stand the sight of him, so I gave him a little lesson. I haven’t thought about what comes next. Any suggestions?”

At his words, Viviane’s group nearly collapsed in despair, and even the mortified Ryan almost coughed up blood in outrage.

Ryan had already been driven mad by the humiliation at Zhou Tian’s hands and Afra’s mockery. He loathed Zhou Tian with every fiber of his being. Yet, even so, Ryan believed there must have been some elaborate plot—surely Zhou Tian had prepared thoroughly, otherwise Ryan would never have suffered such a defeat.

But to learn that Zhou Tian’s actions were merely impulsive, that all his suffering was the result of a whim, was almost too much for Ryan to bear. If not for the terror instilled by Zhou Tian’s slaps, he would have protested loudly.

Meanwhile, Viviane’s group, aware of the gravity of the situation, stood stupefied. Glancing at each other, Afra tentatively suggested, “Should we run?”

“Yes, that seems to be our only option.”

“No choice. We attacked the Deputy Inquisitor—if we don’t flee, we’ll be crushed.”

“Captain, you’ve really gotten us killed this time.”

One member grumbled, but none opposed Afra’s proposal. Having reached consensus, Zhou Tian led them as they quietly gathered their belongings, slipped away, and left the Holy Light City via the teleportation array.

Only when they entered the array did Zhou Tian finally utter the spell to recall the Immortal Binding Rope from Ryan. Regaining his freedom, Ryan used magic to heal his battered head, then, accompanied by a priest who’d witnessed his disgrace, went straight to the Pope.

Go after Zhou Tian? Ryan no longer dared entertain such thoughts.

Zhou Tian’s actions had cast a shadow over Ryan’s heart; now, just seeing Zhou Tian made him quail. The mere thought of the Immortal Binding Rope robbed him of all courage to confront Zhou Tian directly.

But his own fear did not mean the matter was closed. Zhou Tian had humiliated Ryan so deeply that Ryan’s hatred was boundless; given the chance, he would stop at nothing to take Zhou Tian’s life. Though the opportunity had not yet arisen, Ryan now had reason to ask the Pope to deal with Zhou Tian.

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“Are you certain he’s the ‘one’ from your prophecy?” The Pope, having watched Zhou Tian’s treatment of Ryan through a crystal ball, set it aside and questioned the white-robed elder beside him, his expression odd.

“Well…” The elder, grooming his beard, paused at the Pope’s words, hesitated strangely as he recalled Zhou Tian’s behavior, then replied, “You know my divination is never wrong. The person I foresaw is indeed that fellow. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.”

“Hmm…” The Pope rubbed his aching forehead and muttered in resignation, “Forget it. I want nothing to do with that man. Dump him in the Magic Beast Forest and let him fend for himself. Whether he’s the one from prophecy is for him to prove.”

As the Pope stewed in irritation, a priest entered to report, “Your Holiness, Cardinal Ryan requests an audience…”

“Out! Tell that fool to stay as far away from me as possible!” The Pope, desperate for an outlet, exploded like a firecracker, snarling with rage, “If he hadn’t played his petty tricks, none of this would have happened. Let him reap what he’s sown—don’t expect me to clean up his mess!”