Carlos stood behind the Pope, looking up at Xia Hau who stood suspended in mid-air. This was the Purple-Gold Blood Emperor of the Blood Clan, but seemingly not quite what he imagined.
"Since you wish to battle, then let it be so! Victory will ultimately belong to the side of light!" The golden scepter was slowly raised, and the Pope slowly lifted his head, suddenly letting out a long howl. At the same time, the underground prison gates swung open wide, a group of more than twenty white-robed people transformed into phantoms, dispersing in all directions.
They stood in different corners, quickly forming hand signs, reciting spells under their breath. Soon, a thick, bloody mist rose from all directions, the energy of the Church members visibly enhancing at a frantic pace.
Xia Hau's expression darkened; indeed, this was how the Church's power was being enhanced. He turned his head, glanced at An Yiqing, and nodded.
