Chapter 102: Archbishop Rovshan (Edited)

Howl!

In Hili's view, a burly man hiding behind a load-bearing pillar, regardless of his companions exchanging gunfire with the vampire woman, showed an expression of extreme pain.

For him, the exaggerated scene was the inhumane process of werewolf transformation.

First, the eyeballs turned blood-red and gradually enlarged, followed by the head beginning to deform and protrude forward due to bone growth. Then, the skin slowly cracked open to reveal dark brown fur on the face.

A wolf-shaped head slowly emerged, and as the head turned wolf-like, the man's body also began to change, with nails becoming sharper and piercing through the skin, arms and legs stretching.

Finally, a dark-skinned, sturdy, over two meters tall werewolf was born.

"Indeed, the height of a werewolf after transformation is 1.5 times that of their original height…"

After witnessing the entire process, Hili couldn't help but take a deep breath, exhaling another smoke ring. The transformation process was painful, no wonder they hadn't transformed during the fight.

Howl!

The transformed werewolf roared loudly.

Hili instinctively looked to the right, and the woman's expression changed instantly.

"Damn, not my problem."

After surveying his surroundings, Hili looked back at Michael, the werewolf's target, thought for a moment, and raised his hand.

"Sorry, I think you'll be easier to handle unconscious."

Michael, with the gun pointed at him, widened his eyes.

"You!"

Before he could speak, a gust of wind sounded, and Hili swiftly struck Michael's neck.

With a snap, Michael, a large man, instantly rolled his eyes back, losing consciousness and slowly falling forward.

Hili quickly caught him, hoisting him over his shoulder, glanced at the vampire woman now engaging the werewolf, and silently headed towards another exit... — Meanwhile.

Lutheran Bishop's Cathedral.

Knock, knock, knock! A gentle knock on the door sounded.

York silently put away his phone, walked to the door, and opened it.

A monk in a clerical robe respectfully said.

"Father York, my name is Rachel. Archbishop Rovshan wishes to see you, and I will guide you."

York was not surprised and responded calmly.

"Understood."

…

The cathedral's premises were vast, including a spacious main building and several annexes, and a broad front yard.

Aside from the annexes, the main building alone was quite large.

Led by Monk Rachel, York arrived at a spacious balcony with a view of the scenery and the city.

The balcony's corridor was twice as wide as the others.

"Father York, please wait here." Monk Rachel bowed respectfully.

"Archbishop Rovshan will be here shortly."

York leaned on the balcony railing, gazing at the hall and cityscape ahead, maintaining his calm demeanor.

"Alright."

Monk Rachel nodded again and quietly left.

Listening to the fading footsteps, York took a deep breath of the fresh air from the high altitude, feeling refreshed by the breeze.

Indeed, Archbishop Rovshan's chosen meeting spot was excellent.

Having visited before, York found the place refreshing and reminiscent.

"This is a good place." Suddenly, an elderly voice emerged from the right.

"Isn't it, York?"

York smiled, turning towards the source.

An old man in a purple robe with gold and silver patterns, wearing a simple round cap and a cross-decorated chest, smiled at him with hands behind his back.

"Archbishop Rovshan." York withdrew his hand, greeting with a smile.

"Indeed." Archbishop Rovshan waved his hand, walking beside York, both admiring the view.

"York, how long has it been since we last met?"

York's eyes flickered with memories, "About two years."

"Indeed." Archbishop Rovshan smiled, his wrinkles deepening.

"Unexpectedly, this place remains unchanged, but you have changed more and more."

York understood the old man's meaning; as his attributes reached the hundreds, his demeanor and physique naturally evolved, especially since his life value seemed to make him appear younger.

"I've been eating a bit more lately."

York could only respond with that.

Archbishop Rovshan looked at York, affirming.

"Indeed, you're better this way, at least more approachable than your previous standoffish manner."

York had no response; he too felt his initial demeanor was too cold and unapproachable, mainly due to insecurity after transmigration.

Sensing York's mood, Archbishop Rovshan chuckled.

"However, I'm grateful you could come, York. Your abilities are well-recognized."

York looked ahead, calmly stating.

"Archbishop Rovshan, I stand against evil!"

"Heh!"

Hearing this, Archbishop Rovshan laughed, his wrinkles merging into deep creases.

"I believe you, York. I heard you took this matter upon yourself."

York remained silent, simply enjoying the view.

"Well, no more idle talk," Archbishop Rovshan continued without minding.

"Given your personality, you must be well-informed about Saint Cata Monastery. So, do you need any practical help, York?"

York grinned, "I need a helicopter that can fly there."

"Really?"

Archbishop Rovshan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

York remained calm; of course, he wouldn't reveal his plans.

"I don't want to waste time traveling."

"York, ordinary people shouldn't be involved in this." Archbishop Rovshan pondered seriously, "This is a matter for the church."

York knew the old man referred to ordinary people, "That's why I found a pilot myself."

Archbishop Rovshan turned to look at the much taller priest beside him.

York unflinchingly said, "He will forget this incident. You just need to arrange a helicopter that can quickly fly to the destination."

With a bomb yielding 6 tons of TNT and blessed with 600 points, York couldn't exaggerate its power. Although he could guess the explosive force and lethality from the yield, the blessing's effect was beyond his imagination.

The explosion would likely illuminate everything with holy light.

The scene would be spectacular, necessitating a trustworthy pilot.

Thus, Hili would indeed forget, being both an insider and a fan. The issue was the novice nun, Eileen, who might be problematic.

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