My Celestial Ascension

Yuan then turned his head toward the three people kneeling on the ground with dumbfounded expressions on their faces. They couldn’t believe that their trump card had become useless against Yuan.

Instead, the demonic dragon Vorthal’kar had become friends with Yuan. This scene shocked them to the core—they never anticipated something like this to happen. It was beyond their comprehension. An unexpected phenomenon that wasn’t supposed to happen… but it did, right before their eyes.

“H-How was that even possible? Isn’t Vorthal’kar an evil dragon? Why was he being so humble before this brat?!” the Pope uttered in disbelief, his eyes burning with rage. However, he knew deep inside that he was in no condition to fight Yuan or win this war alone—even with two powerful Holy Knight Commanders at his side.

‘Even Valthariel couldn’t defeat him and died so quickly. There is no way we could win against him. Also, Selvariel is a captive now…’ The Pope looked at Yuan with a defeated expression on his face. He had lost the war in the most humiliating way imaginable.

This was the end for the Holy Church. They had lost the war so miserably. Tens of thousands of their well-trained soldiers were slaughtered before their eyes. Their proud Holy Knight Commanders had perished.

Yuan looked at them with a wide grin as he slowly walked toward them, and the atmosphere immediately turned heavy, laced with crushing tension.

“Now what? Your trump card didn’t work on me—it was useless. What are you going to do now? Use another artifact, perhaps?” Yuan asked, his grin widening as he watched their panicked expressions.

“Y-You… you’re mocking me, you bastard! Because of your interference, my long-term planning has been ruined! What do you want from me now?!” The Pope roared at Yuan, his eyes burning with unfiltered fury.

“Is that all you have to say? I don’t have time to listen to your nonsense,” Yuan replied coldly, his voice devoid of any interest in the Pope’s complaints.

“You have no right to talk like this to His Eminence! Show some respect!” One of the Holy Knight Commanders shouted furiously, glaring at Yuan as though his gaze alone could kill.

Swish! In the blink of an eye, a sword strike landed on the Holy Knight Commander’s body, splitting him in two.

It happened so fast—none of them even imagined Yuan would kill him so casually.

“Kyaaaa!” The Pope screamed like a girl as blood splashed across his face, his expression twisted in horror as he stared at the corpse beside him.

“You look pathetic…” Yuan said, staring at the trembling look on the Pope’s face, clearly disgusted. “However, be at ease. I won’t be the one to kill you. There are countless people who want to kill you.”

“You’re alive and safe because of the power of the Holy Church and your authority to command that power. Unfortunately for you, the Holy Church no longer exists in this world. You have no power left to abuse now.”

“You’re weak and pathetic. You have nothing left. No power. No authority to rule. And no place to live.”

Each word from Yuan’s mouth stabbed the Pope’s heart like a poisonous dagger. Every sentence reminded him he was now worthless—a pitiful existence in this world who had lost everything in this war.

“T-That can’t be… The Holy Church won’t be destroyed. It will continue to exist as long as humans live in this world! You can’t make it disappear from the world!” the Pope roared at Yuan, furious. After all, the Holy Church was built by none other than the Goddess of Light and Justice herself.

As long as the Goddess lived, the Holy Church would endure—or so he believed.

“Are you sure about that? You’ve been too caught up in this war to realize it, but I’ve already erased the Holy Church before coming here. Now it has vanished from the face of this world. I have destroyed it!” Yuan declared with a grin, sending a chill down the Pope’s spine.

The Holy Knight Commander standing beside the Pope trembled in fear. He had never met someone as terrifying as Yuan—it was as if Yuan were a walking calamity.

Before he could even utter a word, he felt something pierce his chest. When he looked down, he saw Yuan’s massive sword impaled straight through him.

“W-Why…?” he asked, staring at Yuan with a dazed, weak expression, confused by the sudden execution.

“Because you’re of no use to me. It’s better for you to just die and rest in peace.” Yuan replied, his voice calm and detached.

The Pope turned to Yuan with a horrified look, unable to speak a single word after witnessing what had just happened.

A few seconds later, Yuan grabbed the Pope and dragged him across the ground before tossing him at the feet of Emperor Philip, who had just arrived.

“He’s all yours. Do whatever you want with him. He’s no longer my concern,” Yuan said as he turned his back and walked away, not giving Emperor Philip a chance to speak.

He didn’t want to hear words of gratitude. All he cared about now was the well-being of his wives.

Besides, he was growing tired of the battlefield’s bloody scene—where tens of thousands of corpses lay scattered, crows screamed from above, and vultures began to appear in the sky.

Upon returning to his wives, Yuan looked at Selvariel, who was still bound by the Soul Binding Immortal Rope. Unlike before, she no longer radiated that arrogant aura. She appeared calm—almost as though she no longer cared about what would happen to her or the mission she had been assigned.

Yuan was surprised by the sudden shift in her demeanor. He couldn’t believe that this aloof, proud angel could remain so composed in a situation like this. Where had all her previous arrogance and confidence gone?

‘Well, it seems my wives have taught her some manners… she’s a completely different person now,’ Yuan thought with a faint smile.

He retrieved a binding talisman from his system storage and, with a flick of his finger, the talisman lit up with a bright glow before entering Selvariel’s forehead—binding her soul.

“W-What did you do to me? Why do I feel so strange?” Selvariel asked with a panicked expression, utterly confused by what had just happened.

‘How did that yellow piece of paper enter my forehead? What kind of mechanism does that paper hold? What’s its purpose?’

Countless questions raced through her mind as unease settled deep within her. She was now certain that Yuan had no good intentions toward her. That piece of paper—no, that talisman—had done something, and she couldn’t figure out what.

Yuan watched her reaction with amusement and let out a soft chuckle. “I’ve just planted a bomb inside your mind. If you so much as think about escaping or harming any of us, that bomb will explode.”

“You can imagine the rest on your own—what will happen to you if you disobey my orders.” Yuan chuckled again, a sinister grin forming on his lips as he observed the growing panic on her face.

“I-I understand…” Selvariel nodded hurriedly, her body trembling in fear as terrifying images of her head exploding flashed through her mind.

She didn’t want to die—not like that. And so, she chose to obey. She had no other choice now. She was helpless against Yuan, with no one left to turn to.

Yuan released the Soul Binding Immortal Rope from her body and returned it to his system storage. He no longer needed to keep her bound—he had total control over her now.

Shortly after, Yuan and his wives left the battlefield, flying toward the Holy Light Empire. They urgently needed to wash the blood off their bodies and get rid of the sticky, unpleasant sensation clinging to their skin.

—

A huge gathering formed outside the local church in the capital city of the Holy Light Empire. The people were shocked as the wicked deeds of the Holy Church were laid bare before their eyes.

“I can’t believe that our children, who had mysteriously disappeared, were captured by the Holy Church and used to test toxic drugs… This is beyond our imagination!” someone cried out from the crowd.

“Indeed. To think that we supported them—helped them gain influence across the continent—only to be betrayed so cruelly…”

“No human would torture children like this… even demons wouldn’t commit such horrendous acts against innocent children.”

Whispers of shock and outrage quickly spread through the air of the capital city, drawing the attention of those who had been unaware of the unfolding tragedy. Crowds gathered, anxious to see what had happened.

Inside the underground chamber of the Church, a horrific sight awaited them. Hundreds of children’s lifeless bodies were sprawled across the cold stone floor—some already rotting, their flesh crawling with maggots and flesh-eating insects. Others, though preserved, bore the unmistakable signs of agonizing deaths—their faces forever twisted in expressions of horror and suffering.

Now that the truth had come to light, the people’s fury toward the Holy Church boiled over. Enraged, they began to protest—loudly and relentlessly—demanding the complete expulsion of the Holy Church from the territory of the Lionheart Empire. Their eyes, once clouded by faith and manipulation, had been opened by the grisly sight of so many innocent lives lost.

The sound of their protest—cries of betrayal, heartbreak, and vengeance—resounded throughout the entire capital. By now, everyone knew of the atrocities committed in the name of the so-called Goddess.

When the crowd of protestors finally reached the location where the grand Holy Church once stood, they were met with an even more shocking sight. The Church was gone. Completely.

In its place lay a massive crater, stretching wide and deep. Even the surrounding land had vanished along with it—as though the entire structure had been swallowed by the heavens themselves.

The people stood dumbfounded, eyes widened, mouths agape. They could hardly believe what they were seeing.

And yet… amid their disbelief, a sense of relief began to wash over them. The Holy Church—the source of so much suffering and darkness—had been utterly annihilated by some unknown force. The capital of the Holy Light Empire was finally free from the Church’s binding grip.

News of the destruction spread like wildfire, traveling across cities and kingdoms. Word of the Church’s downfall reached even the most distant corners of the continent. And for the common people, it was a moment of triumph—a long-awaited end to an age of manipulation and cruelty.

Joy erupted among the masses. Celebrations were held. Cheers echoed in the streets. But not everyone was pleased.

The corrupted noble families who had colluded with the Holy Church—those who had plotted to overthrow the Imperial Family—were thrown into chaos. Panic gripped them as they realized the tide had turned.

With the Holy Church gone, the Imperial Family had reclaimed their rightful power. And now, justice was coming for those who had once hidden behind the Church’s protection.

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