Not only could neither close-range nor long-range weapons target it, but even the spellcasters' spells couldn't find a target. In this darkness moving with the giant dragon, the Black Dragon was the sole ruler.

A corrosive spray of acid shot toward three Battle Puppets on the ground, engulfing two Pate citizens as well. Just a slight touch from this spittle would cause an ever-expanding hole in one's body. The cries of pain rang out, drawing rescue riders and priests. Whether they were feeling their way on the ground or running through this area, the lingering acid would continuously cause damage.

The Black Dragon flipped over, turning its head towards the priests. As representatives of Pate God, this group of priests could summon the Holy Light to dispel the darkness before them. They raised the Holy Emblems high, calling upon the power of light. As a golden beam illuminated the surroundings, they saw the Black Dragon diving towards them with its massive body.

The giant dragon rolled on the ground, opening a new path on the square in front of the temple amidst the sound of collapsing buildings. Smoke rose from the wreckage, and everyone's gaze instinctively focused there.

The Black Dragon leaped up, emerging unscathed. Its yellow eyes blinked, and darkness descended once more.

This time, no one dared to challenge the giant dragon. They dropped their weapons, crying and hiding, or scattered through the alleys and streets of Pate City based on their impressions. Only the Paladins continued to grip their swords and shields tightly, watching the mass of darkness hovering back and forth in the sky like a black cloud, looming over the Light Temple, helpless.

Outside, the clamor was deafening, yet inside the temple, it was eerily quiet. Kuboert backed up and tripped, falling onto the passage leading to the rear courtyard. His nostrils and eyes were bleeding, and the blood vessels on his forehead were bulging as though constantly being pressurized, ready to explode.

"Kuboert, you've really made a terrible mess!" The archbishop glanced at the chaos outside, then leaned over to pick up the scepter on the ground. "That scepter could calm those puppets down. Instead, you've driven them to madness, causing such chaos."

Kuboert felt his throat and nasal cavity filled with a metallic, sour liquid, warm—his own blood. His mind was full of rumbling sounds as if towering ancient trees were falling one by one, the roaring and rustling cacophony never dispersing. He waved, attempting to dispel the non-existent flashes before him, which made his vision increasingly blurry.

Zilvra remained hidden in the shadows behind the archbishop. She observed Kuboert's miserable state and knew she had only one chance to strike.

Sprint, thrust, pierce.

However, her attack did not hit any physical entity. The archbishop seemed as insubstantial as air, completely unaffected. Zilvra watched as the archbishop's body wavered before her, vanishing like a bubble.

"Did you think I didn't notice you?" Bishop Pate's voice emanated from a nearby stone pillar. "Though I can't see your hidden body, I can indeed hear the sound of your mind."

Zilvra instantly swung her sword toward the source of the voice, but aside from the explosion of rocks, she still did not hit the archbishop. 'Sight is already unreliable, and so is hearing!' Zilvra decided to close her eyes, using the changes in the air flow felt on her skin, while her sense of smell tried to locate her opponent. Earlier, she had memorized the scent on the archbishop—a special perfume mixed with the aroma of petals lingering on his clothes.

But the enemy clearly wouldn't let her succeed. A mental shockwave pounded into Zilvra's mind like a heavy hammer, stirring violently within her focused consciousness. The Drow woman fell to her knees, clutching her head, her silver hair whipping wildly.

"Get out of my head!" Zilvra shouted, "I swear I'll kill you, you scum!"

A faint smile appeared at the corner of the archbishop's mouth as he drew a sharp dagger from his sleeve. This was not a weapon a priest was allowed to carry, not to mention its blade was painted black to avoid reflecting light—identical to an assassin's tool. He slowly approached Zilvra, watching this beautiful woman howling and madly pounding her temples with her fists.

"Just one stab, and your suffering will end," the bishop said, "Light God Pate will forgive your sins in this life."

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