Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss

Chapter 188 188: Finding The Heretics

Francis stood there for a few seconds, weighing the value of each course of action.

Was this why the Synod had recalled every member? Had somebody known this would happen? Had it been done on purpose?

The thought burned at him. A part of him was unwilling to accept that the shepherds will knowingly put the flocks in danger for no great benefit. But he was old enough to know that not all selfish benefits had to be great.

But this also meant that he wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. If he hadn't taken that detour, he'd have been out of this city before this happened. And the fact that the infected had breached the church wall only meant one thing.

Rainhold has fallen.

The people might still be fighting and the Chosen might still be trying their best but the city was already gone. He might be powerful, but even he could not cut out this rot without destroying perfectly good organs. He didn't have the skills of the Pope.

He inhaled deeply, reading the vibrations of the world. What was the Creator trying to tell him?

Should he...?

There was a twang in the air and he realized it. Heretics have invaded and pervaded the sacred service of the Creator. They couldn't be allowed to walk scot free.

"Father?" The Chosen asked in a low voice, an uncertain expression on his face. He shared a look with one of Francis' Chosen guards before looking back at the man. "What sh—"

"Come." Francis said, resuming his walk. "Lead the way to the Chosen hall."

"M— My Lord?!" The Chosen almost stumbled over his own shoes. "The infected—"

"Do not question me, Chosen." Francis said coldly. "It is not your place to question the message of the Creator."

The man's face went pale with fear as the implications hit him. Questioning a member of the Synod was like questioning the direct words from the Creator, and could lead to being branded a heretic. No one wanted that.

"O— Of course, Father." The man stammered. "This way."

They resumed their walks through the halls, their boots echoing ominously with each step they took. They passed high windows looking down into the courtyard that had the Shivering Tree. But even that beautiful view wasn't enough to shield them from the horrors of the battle in the city.

Screams reached their ears and they could hear the sounds of explosions every minute.

The Chosen glanced at Francis, swallowing. Francis could see the judgement in the man's eyes but that didn't matter. He couldn't see or feel what Francis was privy to.

This was what the Creator wanted.

They climbed down a set of staircases and they were there.

Francis sped up, overtaking the Chosen who had been leading the way. He pushed the beautiful double doors open and strode in confidently, allowing the pressure from his loop to seep out.

But the room was empty.

Francis steps paused as he came to a stop, staring at the empty hall. The Chosen behind him were quiet, all looking at him expectantly.

"Where..." He trailed off, clearing his throat. "Where are the new Chosens?"

"Father?" The Chosen who had been leading him blinked, as if he couldn't understand the question.

"The new Chosens who just took the trial." Francis repeated, turning to the man. "Where are they?"

"They went with the other Chosen to defend the church and the city." The man pointed over his shoulder with his thumb as if the answer was obvious. And it was.

With a nod, Francis strode out of the hall. The closer he walked to the exit, the louder the sounds of the fighting.

He sped up and a minute later, he burst out into the church grounds. There was only one word to describe the sight in front of him.

Chaos.

The carefully manicured lawns had been torn up, and most of the trees had either been shredded and uprooted. The air was filled with vibrations, some resonances clashing while others building up on each other.

He could see the section of the wall that had been destroyed, the infected from the village streaming in like a charging army.

The Chosen around him were fighting, only the ones whose white cloaks were pristine still fighting. Others, both male and female, were already either dead or infected, fighting their former comrades.

Francis exhaled, and released his loop. Pressure filled the air and it popped, spiderwebs of cracks spreading from his feet.

Everybody staggered and he connected his loop to its element. The earth.

The earth pulsed, the vibration moving as fast as thought. Then, spikes shot out in a blink, spearing through the head of every infected on the church grounds.

There was a moment of silence as he bound his loop back into himself. Then, he raised his voice, filling it with authority. "All new Chosens. To me!"

There was a scramble and before long, familiar faces were arrayed before him. There was a twinge within him at how few they now were. But he pushed it aside. After all, the flock endures.

His eyes roved over the collection of new Chosen but there was no sign of Ren or Lilith. The heretics were either dead or gone.

He exhaled, lifting his gaze to the dead around them. He knew their resonances. Push and Pull. If they truly were alive, they wouldn't have gone far.

Whatever it takes, he'll find the heretics.

"F— Father." The Chosen who had been leading him stammered.

Francis' gaze snapped to the man in irritation, but the man wasn't even staring at him. I stead, his gaze was fixed on the sky. A sky that was rapidly darkening.

Francis lifted his head and almost did a double take. Gathering in a large cloud above the city were thousands upon thousands of birds. And they were all infected.

"By the resonance." Francis whispered.

The plague had brought a means of warfare that bypassed the element of his resonance.

Aerial warfare.