Mythology Rebooted
Chapter 1308 - 438 Not Only Will the Devil Not Slander You, It Will Also Praise You_4

Chapter 1308: Chapter 438 Not Only Will the Devil Not Slander You, It Will Also Praise You_4

Wayne wanted to see what exactly the insignia of the Michael Angel Legion looked like.

Soon, Wayne spotted the threads; indeed, they were golden.

Ugh—what he meant was, he saw the Crucifix Stigmata of the Michael Legion, and yes, it was golden.

The stigmata consisted of one Holy Spear and two Holy Swords, standing amidst a field of golden grass. Though sparse, the grass was well-tended, revealing the owner’s love for life and deep reverence for nature...

Bam!

A golden beam shot backward, breaking through the Holy Light Barrier and crashing straight into Wayne, who was seated on a chair.

Wayne had been scrutinizing the Michael Legion’s stigmata, analyzing the details to judge what kind of Angel Michael might be—whether, as Pride had said, he was an Angel whose humility surpassed even Pride’s arrogance.

Hearing the sound of wind slicing toward him, Wayne didn’t even turn his head. He raised his hand and caught it.

The force was immense, pushing him—and the Magic Array—back two meters.

Archangel Hexuno sat in Wayne’s arms, utterly bewildered, just about to say something to break the awkward silence. She lifted her eyes and immediately saw Auga’s stigmata.

"Huh! Huh? Huuh———"

Hexuno was so furious she nearly exploded on the spot. She grabbed Wayne’s face and twisted it straight, her eyes blazing with anger.

Hexuno: "I’m out there fighting for my life, and you’re here playing disgraceful games! Do you even know who she is? She’s one of my nemesis’s subordinates!"

Wayne: "Exactly, and now I’m you. You screwing over your nemesis’s subordinate—makes perfect sense."

Shameless!

Hexuno wanted nothing more than to slap the shameless man’s face. When Philomena had been sitting on Wayne’s lap, she had wanted to do it then, but there were too many people around, and she held back for Wayne’s dignity.

Now, with no one else present, it felt like the perfect moment to unleash her retribution.

Hexuno raised her hand but refrained from blaming the Saint Heir directly. Instead, she chose a softer target and pointed at Heya: "What are you doing, allowing this shameless Seraph to corrupt the Archangel’s eyes? What are you even protecting?"

"And what’s wrong with being a Seraph? You think we’re beneath you?"

Heya scoffed coldly, her worldview tempered through rebuilding ruins: "Is this all you can make a fuss about? After all that the Archangel has been through, what can’t he be expected to witness now?"

"..."

What she said made so much sense that I couldn’t even refute it.

Auga gracefully lowered the edge of her robe and said slowly: "Little Nun, Uriel Archangel told me that Archangel Hexuno bestowed you power to draw the Devil’s attention. He wasn’t genuinely indulging in your beauty. Please understand this and refrain from judging us Angels with your narrow outlook."

"..."

You make a good point too.

"Also, your feelings for Archangel Hexuno aren’t pure. Most of them stem from possessiveness. You worship him and crave to possess him—that is the sin of Greed. I hope you wake up before making more mistakes." Auga shook her head with a trace of disdain, barely sparing her another glance.

"..."

Seraphs are so annoying!

When you’re at the top, everyone around you speaks sweetly; when you’re at rock bottom, all you hear are biting criticisms. Such is life in the Mortal World, and it’s no different in Heaven.

Hexuno used to think these Seraphs worked hard and spoke beautifully; now, she just wanted to kill them all.

Soon enough, they would expand their critique into all the Seraphs!

Fred frowned and looked at Hexuno: "Little Nun, get off Archangel Hexuno’s lap immediately. His favor isn’t a justification for your arrogance. This behavior of yours shames him!"

"..."

Hexuno rolled her eyes but quickly jumped off the honorary seat to avoid Hexuno’s further embarrassment.

Only to be tugged back.

Wayne grabbed Hexuno’s chin, leaned down, and kissed her deeply, mumbling through the contact: "This Pride is too powerful; neither Uriel, Kiraal, nor Vikul can match him unless fully awakened. I’m entrusting all the stigmata to you—keep pretending to be me and don’t let the name Hexuno become tarnished."

Hexuno squirmed twice, then reluctantly withdrew her powers with loud smacks.

Noticing the three disdainful gazes, she wrapped her arms around Wayne’s shoulders and doubled down.

"Enough, stop kissing. I’ve already given you all my power..."

Wayne reluctantly pulled himself away, patted Hexuno’s backside, and urged her to go eliminate the Devils, instructing her to call reinforcements if the battle became too tough. While he wasn’t exceptionally skilled, he still had quite the method for handling Devils.

Hexuno wiped the lipstick smudge from her lips, saw the three glaring Seraphs still eyeing her, and promptly planted another kiss on Wayne.

I’m just defiling purity out of spite—what can you do about it?

"Hmph!"

Hexuno spread her six wings and took off, exuding both insolence and defiance. Watching her antics, Heya found her insufferable, while Auga and Fred shared in her discontent.

"Archangel Hexuno, you spoil this little nun way too much, it’s not good. It only feeds her petulance."

"Today she dares to bare her fangs at the Seraphs; tomorrow she’ll flaunt attitudes to the Seraphim. And if someday she offends the Saint Heir, you’ll be punished alongside her."

"Indeed, some discipline is overdue!"

The three Seraphs chimed in one after another, each expressing dissatisfaction with the young nun.

"You three...could you be jealous?"

"..." x3

"I’m not!"

"I never was!"

"Impossible!"

"Then that’s it, isn’t it?"

Wayne shrugged, nudging their envy, goading them to raise their voices and cut deeper—as the louder they got, the faster Hexuno fell. When Hell does their awards ceremony, the Seven Demon Lords would lead the way in handing out medals to the lot of them.

Boom! Boom! Boom!!

The battle over the sea raged on for two hours straight.

Lord Pride fought one-on-four against four virtues, exchanging blows without a hint of weakness. Yet, as the saying goes, two fists can’t fend off eight hands. Gradually, he began to falter and finally lost his ability to turn the tides.

A beam of gold shot up into the night sky, splitting the darkness with dazzling brilliance.

Fog veiled the ocean as Tempests churned the waters into chaos. Among massive, towering waves, Lord Pride stood bloodied and battered, wielding his sword amidst disgrace.

The six wings on his back were completely severed, everything below his waist obliterated. Forget kidneys, even his reproductive organs were gone.

At this point of the battle, Lord Pride had no hope of victory. He laughed maniacally at the heavens: "Though I failed to find the Saint Heir, I’ve seen you four appear in the Mortal World! Heaven’s forces are stretched thin—it’s the perfect time for Hell to counterattack Heaven. Just you wait—once I open Hell Gate, I’ll drown Heaven with rivers of blood!"

The four virtues panted heavily, gazing at the seemingly indestructible Pride, their hearts growing heavier with every breath.

Lord Pride was transmitting key information back to Hell from his own fragmented consciousness. They could do nothing but stand by watching as the true Pride in Hell received crucial intelligence.

The mere thought of Pride returning to earth with more schemes left the Angels with unrelenting headaches—especially with Heaven’s current defenses, which weren’t remotely reassuring.

"Pride, one last question—who told you about the Saint Heir?" Uriel demanded sharply.

Heaven harbored a traitor, and the truth needed immediate uncovering and relentless justice!

"You, of course. Who else could it be?"

Lord Pride flaunted his stigmata: "Old friend, without you, my ascent to Heaven wouldn’t have been this easy..."

"Lies! You stole the stigmata through despicable means!"

Uriel vehemently denied it, longing to slay Pride instantly but fearing that any potential leads would vanish with him.

"Don’t overthink. There’s plenty of time. We’ll surely meet again in the future. As for my life, you’ll neither have it nor ever take it..."

Lord Pride smirked arrogantly: "The only being worthy of killing me—hasn’t appeared yet. None of you can, and neither can Michael. Only I am qualified to kill myself."

This said, without giving the four virtues any chance to counterattack, he raised both arms. Golden light surged around him, and a gigantic sphere suddenly expanded to a kilometer-wide diameter.

"Old friends, looking forward to seeing you all in the Kingdom of Heaven..."

"Ka-ka-ka-ka———"

Boom!!!

Far away in Lundan, Felster reclined in his unimpressive mansion, unworthy of even a Billion’s price tag.

Recently, the economy had been in a decline, and university graduates faced unemployment from the moment they left campus. After lingering near the school’s gates for a while, he hired two brand-new secretaries.

Felster opened his mouth to clamp down on the secretary’s offered cigar but shuddered suddenly.

"So painful..."

One of the new secretaries looked apologetically toward Felster.

"It’s not your fault; I’m talking about myself—it blew up without even a shred of theatrics."

Felster slouched his head back, muttering lowly to himself: "The Saint Heir...he seems quite important. Should I go look for him? What if I actually manage to find him?"

To his left is Hell’s grand ambitions; to his right, the Mortal World’s fleeting allure.

Lord Pride weighed his options and decisively chose the Mortal World’s temptations. Those grand ambitions? Let Hell’s embodiment of Pride worry about them. Coming to earth, only to fret over such matters? What a waste of his visit!

Whatever, to Hell with Hell.