Jiaye Longshu’s body exploded into a cloud of blood mist, not even bone fragments remained.
The master of the temple had completely fallen!
“Finally dead.”
Ye Qiu let out a sigh of relief, then, with a “thud,” dropped to one knee, coughing up blood incessantly.
Though he had killed Jiaye Longshu, he himself was gravely injured.
Moreover, after using the Immortal-Slaying Sword, his internal energy was utterly depleted.
At this moment, he was at his weakest.
If an ordinary person without any cultivation wanted to kill him now, Ye Qiu would have no strength to resist.
Fortunately, he had slaughtered all the monks in this temple.
“It seems the Immortal-Slaying Sword cannot be used lightly. If I fail to kill the enemy, I’ll be the one to die.”
Recalling the battle, Ye Qiu felt lingering fear.
Without the Immortal-Slaying Sword as his trump card, he might have perished here today.
“My cultivation is still too low. If we were in the same realm, Jiaye Longshu would have been killed long ago, and I wouldn’t be this badly injured.”
Ye Qiu glanced down at his body.
His body was covered in wounds, his clothes soaked in blood.
It was a ghastly sight.
Without exaggeration, this battle had cost him half his life.
Still, Ye Qiu was elated.
With only eight streams of innate true qi, he had crossed realms to kill Jiaye Longshu, a mid-Venerable Realm cultivator, a true miracle.
Ye Qiu now had a clear understanding of his combat strength.
“It seems those below the Venerable Realm can no longer threaten me. Luckily, Jiaye Longshu only had eighteen streams of dragon qi. If he had more, I would have died here.”
Ye Qiu muttered to himself, then sat cross-legged, preparing to heal.
“Phew.”
At that moment, a gentle breeze brushed his face.
Ye Qiu distinctly sensed a faint narcissus fragrance in the breeze, refreshing and uplifting.
Hm?
Sensing something, Ye Qiu abruptly looked up at the top of the pagoda.
His pupils constricted sharply.
There, on the spire, stood a beautiful woman.
She was young, around twenty years old, dressed in a white gown with a white headscarf, a purple crystal pendant hanging from her fair neck.
Tall and striking, her features were exquisite, her azure eyes captivating, her high nose bridge exuding an exotic charm.
Barefoot, her delicate feet were exposed, her skin so fine it glowed faintly under the sunlight.
The woman looked at Ye Qiu, a faint smile on her lips.
She was a sight to behold, like a breath of spring.
“Who is this woman?”
“Friend or foe?”
“When did she appear?”
Countless questions flashed through Ye Qiu’s mind as he warily eyed her, as if facing a formidable enemy.
This woman had appeared on the spire without a sound, clearly no ordinary person.
“No need to be tense, I mean no harm.”
The woman spoke first, her fluent Mandarin as pure and pleasant as melting snow.
“You’re badly injured. Do you need my help to heal?” she added.
“Who are you?” Ye Qiu asked.
She replied, “Let me introduce myself. I’m Mohammed Angela, from the Vatican. You can call me the Prophet.”
Prophet?
At those words, Ye Qiu tensed up.
Though he knew little about Western religions, he understood from foreign films that prophets held high status in them.
Moreover, they were mysterious and powerful.
It was said prophets could not only divine and predict the future but also wield numerous enigmatic techniques.
Ye Qiu was certain this woman had a purpose for being here.
“Could she be here specifically for me?”
Just as the thought crossed his mind, she said, “I came from the Vatican to find you.”
Ye Qiu was puzzled. Why was she looking for me?
She continued, “I came to invite you to the Vatican as a guest. The Pope wishes to meet you.”
Ye Qiu was surprised.
The two questions that had just formed in his mind were answered before he could voice them.
How did she know what I was thinking?
Could it be… she can read minds?
Ye Qiu’s heart jolted.
“How long have you been here?” he asked in his mind.
The next second, she replied, “I’ve been here a while. I happened to witness your fight with Jiaye Longshu, so I watched for a bit.”
Indeed, she could read minds.
Ye Qiu’s shock deepened.
She had been here for some time, yet Jiaye Longshu, a mid-Venerable Realm expert, hadn’t noticed her at all. Her cultivation was clearly above his.
The Prophet said, “I was about to intervene to deal with Jiaye Longshu, but surprisingly, he died by your hand.”
“That final sword technique was powerful, but it drained all your energy.”
“Mr. Ye, if you agree to come with me to the Vatican to meet the Pope, I can heal you.”
Ye Qiu asked, “And if I refuse?”
The Prophet, unfazed, replied, “If you refuse, I won’t heal your injuries.”
Ye Qiu said, “Since you know who I am, you should know my medical skills are exceptional. These injuries are nothing to me.”
“Of course, you’re the Medical Saint. These injuries pose no threat to you, but they’re severe. It would take at least a week for you to fully recover. If I help, I can drastically shorten that time.”
Smiling, the Prophet added, “I only need three hours to heal you completely.”
Three hours?
Ye Qiu found it unbelievable.
He had dozens of wounds, all severe. Even with his own treatment, recovery would take time.
“If I don’t go to the Vatican, you won’t kill me, will you?” Ye Qiu probed.
A smile spread across the Prophet’s beautiful face. “Rest assured, Dr. Ye, I would never kill you, no matter the circumstance.”
That was a relief.
Ye Qiu exhaled slightly, but doubts lingered. Had this woman really travelled thousands of miles to Tianzhu just to invite him to the Vatican?
It sounded too far-fetched to believe.
“Mr. Ye, you needn’t be suspicious. I’m sincerely inviting you to the Vatican as a guest, and the Pope genuinely wishes to meet you,” the Prophet said.
Ye Qiu asked, “Can you tell me why the Pope wants to see me?”
“For the future of the Vatican,” she elaborated. “Simply put, we wish to borrow your services.”
Borrow my services?
I’m not a tool, how can I be borrowed?
Ye Qiu didn’t understand. “What does that mean?”
The Prophet explained, “In short, we hope Dr. Ye can help the Vatican by fathering a child!”
Ye Qiu was dumbfounded. “Father a child? With whom? It couldn’t be…”
The Prophet nodded.
“That’s right, with me!”
