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    Chapter 153: Concerto

    “Profligate.”

    The old man known as The Left Hand of Dark Light squinted at the figure before him and asked, “This must be one of your incarnations. Where is your true self?”

    Bai Yan remained unfazed. He had expected the old man to see through him. After all, someone of Sioro’s caliber operated not merely within the Material World but also on the higher plane of the Formation Realm.

    The multiverse consisted of four planes: the Material World, Formation Realm, Creation Realm, and Divinity Realm. Every being’s soul occupied a position within this hierarchy, determining their significance within the universe’s grand design.

    Those of the Material World were insignificant—dust within the infinite cosmos. Only beings who ascended to the Divinity Realm were considered equals to the universe itself. However, the Outer Gods, foreign to this system, defied such classifications, existing entirely beyond the multiverse’s comprehension.

    Sioro’s question lingered in the air, but Bai Yan chose to sidestep it.

    Instead, he smiled and asked, “The Piety Chain—it’s a taboo-level magic, isn’t it? Infectious in nature. That’s the magic you’ve been spreading here, correct?”

    “Yes.”

    Sioro nodded without hesitation.

    “And you’re spreading it in this city under the banner of divine will. Why? Does the Dark Light Church fear Babel Tower so much?”

    “The church fears no one.” Sioro’s voice was firm. “But as for Babel Tower… why do you oppose us?”

    Bai Yan chuckled, “No deep reason. Let’s just say… it was necessary.”

    Sioro paused, scrutinizing Bai Yan, but before he could respond, two figures emerged from the shadows: Nightsaber and Psychic Dancer.

    The sight of them didn’t faze Sioro. His belief was unshakable. Instead, he simply lowered his umbrella, which dissolved into black light, spreading outward.

    “Actually,” Sioro began, his voice calm and cold, “when I first heard about Babel Tower, I found it amusing. A so-called ‘Savior,’ claiming to be a god—such arrogance. It’s laughable.”

    His tone hardened.

    “Arrogance stems from irreverence for the divine. And irreverence is a sin.”

    Sioro glanced around. The Land of Flames, with its single exit, was an ambush waiting to happen. Outside, the Night Watchers would undoubtedly be lying in wait.

    “Your plan was simple and effective,” he admitted. “Babel Tower’s forces trap me here, while the Demon Hunt Agency waits to strike outside. A fine strategy. But there’s one thing you miscalculated.”

    Sioro straightened, his presence growing oppressive.

    “You underestimated me.”

    With those words, he released his power.

    The black light around him surged, a massive, oppressive force that engulfed the entire Land of Flames. The very air fractured under its weight, and many who witnessed it fell to their knees, crushed by its intensity.

    Sioro was no ordinary man. He was a grand bishop of the Dark Light Church, a being of immense strength and authority. To underestimate him was to invite destruction.

    “Dark Light!”

    Sioro’s voice resonated like a divine command. At once, the crimson flames above dimmed, the red sky fading into total darkness. A colossal pillar of black light descended from the heavens, obliterating everything in its path.

    The Land of Flames trembled violently. The extraordinary individuals within it scrambled to escape, but the black light was merciless.

    Lin Bian and Raven Reaper, two of the Night Watchers’ finest, arrived just in time to witness the devastation. But even their combined might was nothing against the sheer power of the Left Hand of Dark Light.

    The shops, the streets, the very fabric of the Land of Flames—all were reduced to nothingness.

    Amidst this chaos, Bai Yan had vanished.

    Meanwhile, in the darkened sky, a massive white balance scale appeared.

    It loomed over the ruins of the Land of Flames, its presence divine and overwhelming. Standing on one side of the scale was Sioro, unyielding despite the situation.

    On the other side stood two figures: a tall, thin man in white, wearing a mask shaped like eyes, and a young girl with long gray-white hair, dressed in a black-and-white clerical gown.

    The man spoke, his voice calm and authoritative.

    “We are here under the orders of Mr. World to observe the situation. As expected, everything aligns with his predictions.”

    Sioro sighed.

    “So, even those wretched kings cannot stop you.”

    The balance tilted. Sioro’s soul,

    despite his power, began to

    wane. The overwhelming Dark

    Light faltered as divine

    judgment descended.

    The young girl knelt, tears

    streaming as she prayed

    softly. Her voice was a plea to

    the heavens.

    “Light, I kneel before you. I beg

    for your illumination. Forgive

    us our sins and smooth out all

    oppression and tyranny.”

    A radiant white light engulfed

    the area, restoring what had

    been destroyed. The Land of

    Flames was no longer on the

    verge of collapse.

    Outside, Pastor stumbled

    through the rain. Exhausted

    and nearly drained of divine

    grace, he murmured, “Scatino…

    wait for me.”

    In the shadows, a figure

    appeared.

    It was Bai Yan.

    Smiling faintly, Bai Yan

    gestured. “Follow me.”

    Pastor hesitated but had no

    choice. The Night Watchers

    were closing in.

    He followed Bai Yan into an

    alley, only to find the man

    gone. Instead, a bloodied Night

    Watcher lay on the ground,

    barely clinging to life.

    “Who are you?” Pastor

    demanded.

    The injured man gasped

    weakly, “I… I am Bai Yan.”

    Before Pastor could

    comprehend the situation, the

    Night Watchers arrived.

    Note