Iron Harvest: When Farming Becomes Conquest
Chapter 231 - 2: Witch_2

Chapter 231: Chapter 2: Witch_2

The sword light shone like a rainbow, but collapsed before touching the enemy.

Valia felt pressured; the sword and shield were not useless, but the power within them was dissipated.

She realized that there was a special power within the awe-inspiring Holy Chant, similar to that of the sword and shield.

In that contact, the Divine Artifact lost its efficacy.

Valia found herself in a difficult predicament, unable to move forward.

A strong hand grabbed her arm.

"Let me." said the Thunder Witch.

She stepped forward, her whole body surrounded by dazzling electric light.

The nuns of the choir closed their eyes and prayed, singing devoutly with pure hearts.

A confrontation between Divine Arts and Spells.

The Thunder Witch’s electric light intensified.

She stepped forward, challenging the power of the choir.

Her sisters behind her provided support, casting spells to help relieve her pressure.

"Come! Nuns! Show me the will of your so-called All Gods! Will they destroy me first! Or will I turn you into charred corpses first?"

The Thunder Witch’s angry voice echoed in the Holy Temple.

Lightning erupted from her throat!

Thunder burst from her eyes!

Her whole body floated up, her feet off the ground.

Amidst continuous thunder crashing beside her.

The mortal will resisted the authority of the Gods, while the power of the choir seemed weak at this moment.

They suppressed the two Divine Artifacts with Gods’ Divine Power, yet it was ineffective against the Witch, for the Gods never cared for the small Mortal World.

All the nuns were shocked, their devout faith unshaken, but their fear of the Witch made it difficult for them to concentrate.

Bang!

Poof!

Suddenly, before everyone’s eyes, the mighty Thunder Witch staggered, then fell heavily on the ground, countless lightning bolts out of control, scattering from the Void like a collapsed sandcastle.

"My power... my spells..."

The Thunder Witch’s eyes reflected the uncontrollable lightning crackling at her fingertips.

The other witches also stopped casting at this moment.

They felt strong discomfort.

Valia felt it too.

Her head throbbed, her vision spun, making it difficult to stand.

She sensed a horrifying field starting to operate, enveloping all the witches, disrupting their spellcasting abilities.

For spellcasters, spells were their only reliance.

And now, most witches were deprived of their casting ability.

"Pathetic Contaminated Bloods, you charge recklessly here, not knowing this is your burial ground... for human civilization has long been lost, and the methods to deal with you remain effective... start to fear, along with witches of all ages, feel the deepest despair..."

The Pope sat on the Holy Seat, his whole body enveloped in a sacred radiance, magnificent and beautiful.

He was close to the gods, a guardian of the Gods, the shepherd of the earth.

He had countless lamb believers.

The choir’s Holy Chant suddenly rose, praising, extolling, and singing.

They lauded the Pope, the closest to God.

And the witches came for him.

He sat there in front of the witches, while the statues of the Gods suddenly appeared, as if they had always been there, yet omnipresent, emitting a holy light, illuminating all beings.

Was it the Pope speaking?

Unknown, no one knew.

The witches were in a fog, unable to discern.

The light of the Gods illuminated all, yet moved away from them. They fell into darkness, like sinister Cangyue Evil Demons, ignored by the Gods, inevitably stirring the painful memories of the witches, all having lived in isolation, ostracized, on the fringes of society.

They considered themselves human, yet no one ever regarded them as such.

Some of the less resilient witches broke down at this moment, weeping bitterly.

Shasta held the short sword, forcing herself on, staggering towards the Pope, only to be stopped by a sister.

"Shasta, we’re out of options; this is a cage, a trap. I can feel the power of that seated man, and the power behind the Holy Seat, I saw the shadow in the holy light, someone is standing behind that Holy Seat watching us, my grandfather told me we cannot kill him, it all ends here." the Frost Witch said.

"This is not the end, it’s the beginning!" Shasta said.

"Living is the beginning!" the tall witch replied. "If we all die here without achieving our goal, the sacrifice is meaningless. Leave, we failed, survive, and preserve our strength."

Shasta said miserably, "My spells... have lost control... Valia, go, we’ll cover you, you still have your people... and we, we have nothing left... We gave everything, and this is all we got..."

"You still have me... I’ll lead you out." the Frost Witch said.

"Before becoming a witch, I was a Frost person, a Frost Warrior..."

Valia looked at the man on the Holy Seat, her constitution different from ordinary people, shedding the influence of the unknown power, quickly adapting.

She perceived everything clearly, as if her grandfather’s distant whispers were in her ear.

Behind the glamorous, dazzling Holy Seat, hid the deepest darkness, and in the darkness stood a figure, maliciously watching them.

The greatest enemy was not the Church Court and the Pope, but that terrifying shadow lurking deep within the Church Court.

"Shasta, if I die, take my bones back to the Northern." Valia said without turning back.