Alien Queen

Chapter 9 Holy Island

If the Central Cathedral in the Holy City is the most sacred place in the Light Plane, then the Holy Island located in the center of the North Sea in the Light Plane is the most mysterious place in the Light Plane.

The Central Cathedral is a holy place, but during the annual pilgrimage, most lucky people will have the opportunity to enter the cathedral to listen to the Pope's prayers and see the incomparable majesty of the Central Cathedral.

The Holy Island is different. Regardless of the tribunal established on this island or the Summoning God Formation and Angel Arrival Formation originating from here, this is a mysterious restricted area that is no less than the forbidden area of ​​​​the Demon Realm.

A large warship capable of carrying more than 10,000 people was sailing towards the Holy Island at this time. There were four eight-winged angels, two on each bow and stern, but there were more seraphs floating in the air, looking at them warily. All around.

No different than before, the Light Sect is no longer the only one in the Light Plane today. Whether it is the Demon Clan or the Underworld Clan who suddenly cover up and kill them, they are existences that cannot be ignored.

Following a wave of water, breaking through the thick mist like a wave, the warship that sailed from near the Central Cathedral finally arrived at the port of the Holy Island.

A special bishop of the Inquisition wearing a cross embroidered with the Holy Light stood on the dock. His ruthless and cold eyes were as terrifying as in the minds of every believer in the Illuminati.

The four eight-winged angels got off the boat first, and several deacons of the Light Cult who followed them also got off.

How much did you bring this time?

The special bishop of the Inquisition asked coldly: How is the quality?

A middle-aged deacon with a pale face and beard walked over in two steps, bowed and said respectfully: Sir, more than a thousand people have been transported on this trip. It is estimated that many of them can meet your requirements, and the others are just backup. .”

It's getting worse...

The special bishop snorted coldly and said, It's even worse than last time.

grown ups……

The middle-aged deacon bowed deeply in fear and said: Now we have to deal with the forces of the demon clan and the underworld army. The Pope has sent more people to the Holy Power City and the Holy Light City for defense. These We also went to great lengths to secretly capture people in the important cities of various races.

Okay, stop talking.

The special bishop sneered and said: If it weren't for the fact that the number of strong men summoned by the Summoning God Array from those lower planes was far from enough, how could we have asked you to find these bad pigs? Get them down quickly and pull them to the waterfall. Rinse it off for me.

yes.

The middle-aged deacon let out a long breath, bowed, and then turned back and waved to the soldiers who had come up on the deck at an unknown moment.

The huge cabin door was opened, and a stench suddenly spread out, only to see a large group of figures huddled together in the huge cabin.

Humans, orcs, and elves accounted for the largest proportion. Of course, among the densely packed figures looking towards the shore of the holy island in fear, more of them were humans.

what happened?

If the stench could still be tolerated by the special bishop, he only took a few steps to avoid the limelight. Then as a strong smell of blood spread, the face of the special bishop of the Inquisition suddenly became gloomy.

Pah...pah...

The middle-aged deacon did not dare to answer, and ordered the soldiers to wave their whips to open up the crowd. When the people crowded outside screamed and were driven to the deck, there was a large area in the middle of the cabin exposed. Blood stains.

Not only were there blood stains, but there were also some broken bones and rotten flesh left by unknown sources. From the shape of the remains, it was probably possible to tell that at least a dozen people had been torn into pieces and devoured.

We have already killed those who were disobedient...

Hearing the sound of footsteps, the middle-aged deacon turned around and saw the special bishop walking over. Big beads of sweat immediately flowed down his somewhat panicked face: Maybe... maybe it was those orcs or goblins who did it.

Why are you even arresting goblins?

The special bishop frowned and glanced at the panicked or insensitive slaves, and then glared at the deacon: Is there really no one to arrest?

The middle-aged deacon hurriedly explained: My lord, you have misunderstood. We have captured a dozen goblins in this batch. Several of them have fully reached the strength of the strong men in the holy realm. It was only with the approval of the Cardinal that we dared to send them over.

The order from Dio...

There was a sarcastic smile on the corner of the special bishop's mouth, and he said: It's really ridiculous. The most holy and holy angel actually wants to descend on an ugly and despicable goblin.

Sir, what do you think?

Cardinal Dio and the director of the Inquisition, Osim, were at odds with each other. This middle-aged deacon also knew this. Seeing that Director Osim's most powerful bishop, Lord Key, did not hide his sarcasm towards the Cardinal in his words. He didn't dare to say a word because of his status, but he lowered his head in fear and asked: Do you want to kill them?

kill?

Special Bishop Key sneered: Why kill? We need a large number of angels to come to the host now. Do you know how many failures a day will waste and how many mature carriers are wasted? Goblins are goblins, Dio can agree, so what's wrong?

As he spoke, Special Bishop Key looked coldly at the ugly goblins with blood stains on their mouths and hands, and waved his hand: Take them all down.

Go...go quickly

Why are you staring? Then I'll gouge out your eyes.

Papa...

The wolf-like soldiers immediately rushed forward. Some shouted loudly at the slaves who were about to become the carriers of the angel's arrival, and some were even more direct, whipping the whip with iron barbs in their hands.

If they were not sure of their fate before, then the slaves who clearly heard the conversation between the special bishop and the middle-aged deacon fully understood what kind of fate would await them. Most of them looked at the people forming a human wall around them. The soldiers gave up resistance but were completely numb with pale faces. Some of them were very bloody and strong, such as the goblins who had killed countless people, or some orc tauren and lions, including some elves. There were immediate signs of something about to happen.

call out

A flash of white light flashed, and when a tauren who went into independent madness due to anger grabbed the whip drawn by the soldier beside him and snatched it in his hand, but before he could shout and rush out a few steps, the white man appeared out of thin air. Mengden immediately cut off both of his legs. As blood spurted out, the tauren screamed and fell with both knees broken.

Looking up and glaring at the eight-winged angel in the sky, Special Bishop Key cursed: Just knock him unconscious. Who asked you to hurt his body? These are not the best hosts, but how can there be so many now? choose.

The eight-winged angel had no expression, neither panic nor guilt, and there was no anger on his face at being scolded by humans. He still just looked at the shocked slaves with vigilance.

too poor.

Key shook his head, and he didn't know whether he was talking to the middle-aged deacon beside him or just talking to himself: Compared with the original angels who came from mature carriers and experienced the washing of battles and years, they are the real ones. Strong ones. These in front of you are no different from the undead.

But when the quantity reaches a certain level, it should be able to make up for this.

The middle-aged deacon could not ignore the words of the special bishop, and said with a smile: Otherwise, with our original strength, the number of super-level experts would not be as much as the number of the underworld and demons combined.

You know shit.

Special Bishop Key sneered and said: Sometimes quantity is of no use. A few days ago was an example. One Jinskman killed three eight-winged angels of the same level who had just arrived, and even more Killing and injuring dozens of seraphs is something that only their group of angels in the early years could do, but only a few of them can do it now.

The middle-aged deacon half-bowed and nodded repeatedly, saying with a smile: But no matter how powerful he is, he was still captured by the director.

Of course, how could he be the boss, not to mention the Pope? Key showed a trace of respect on his face, looking at the slaves who were being driven off the ship, but he was talking to himself strangely. Said: I'm just a little curious. Jinskman is an eight-winged angel. He was only a saint-level human strongman back then. How come he has greatly increased his strength and possesses dragon power after going out? Is it a fallen zone? Give him strength.

The middle-aged deacon shuddered, he really didn't dare to answer this sentence.

…………

Pengpengpeng...pengpeng...

The center of the Holy Island is a hundred meters deep into the ground. The fallen angel Jinskman with dragon power in Key's mouth is like crazy, swinging his fists and feet to hit a white light fence that traps him like a cage, violently With the impact of the impact, the originally thick fence of the arm inflated like air, and the cage quickly expanded. White light shone but there was no sign of collapse.

I don’t know how long he had been punching and kicking like this. Jinskman’s hands and feet had burst wounds, and the skin exposed under the torn sleeves was covered with blood drops.

useless.

A voice like the sound of nature rang out: This is the Holy Light Cage Barrier cast by the director himself. The stronger the damage, the stronger the barrier's imprisonment power. Unless you are a space magician, it will definitely There’s no way to get out of it.”

The words were spoken by a woman in the same holy light cage space dozens of meters away from where Jinskman was. Her milky white clothes were covered with blood, and there was not even a trace of fear or uneasiness in her delicate face. But it's just pity and sadness.

Jinskman ignored it and just punched and kicked crazily. The blood under his fair skin surged like an earthworm, but no matter how hard he exerted force, the Holy Light Cage only surged, and returned to normal after a moment of relief. .

You know they won't let you go, so why do you come back?

That woman was none other than Angela, the Saint of the Light God who Jinskman had been dreaming about. Her beautiful face was filled with sorrow and tender pity that penetrated into the bones of her bones. Angela said in a pleading tone: Jinskman, Please, don’t hurt yourself like this.”

bk