Don't confiscate my identity as a human race-Chapter 1147 788: Lankros’s Destiny

Marquis Somerset, the Eighth Ancestor, subconsciously took a half step back, tightening the muscles in his body.

But he was stared at by the dark eyes of Duke Rashar, the Third Ancestor.

"..."

The Third Ancestor Rashar shifted his gaze back to the Pope.

They were all convinced that Saint Polante Pope should have fallen from the Ninth-order, stepping onto the short-lived path of human life.

An elderly Pope of only Eighth-order, coming alone to Blood Moon City, was undoubtedly inviting death.

Lanci should be harboring despair, to fight against a few Primogenitors and then have his glass-like body shattered, reduced to only half a torso, turned into an ugly and humiliated showcase held by hand, realizing that the sacrifice of a swarm of insects was meaningless, and tragically ending his incompetent life.

He should not, and could not be maintaining a state far beyond his prime from four years ago!

This was completely different from the Divination results of Helitier.

"Pope, could there be some misunderstanding between us?"

Duke Rashar, the Third Ancestor, shifted his gaze to the distant Pope, his youthful voice becoming much more grave, asking him.

"Do you wish for reconciliation?"

Lanci asked in surprise.

"Of course."

The Third Ancestor Rashar sincerely nodded.

Helitier's Divination could not be wrong; the very fact that the Pope could live until now was miraculous. His fated demise was an unchangeable truth; within a few more days, the Pope would certainly be buried.

Three years ago, when they had manufactured an illusion of peace to reach a surrender compromise, the Pope wasn't this strong; he was fundamentally incapable of breaking into Blood Moon City.

Over the years, to prevent the Pope from troubling and retaliating midway, they had continuously prepared.

Now, there was no reason to clash head-on with this man.

"You must be joking."

Lanci was laughed at by the Third Ancestor.

It somewhat insulted his intelligence.

To once again have him cease fire, until he died, and then reveal his true form.

"I still prefer the way you were, unruly and untamed."

The White Robed Pope rated the Third Ancestor Duke Rashar.

"Pope, do not be too aggressive. We have always been following the Oberon Treaty, yet it is you who want to break the hard-earned peace, becoming an eternal sinner, making the sacrifices of your friends all in vain?"

Marquis Sommerst, the Eighth Progenitor, pointed at Lanci, angrily scolded.

"I see why Tolyado specifically chose to deal with you."

Lanci was not only not angry, but he also sighed in relief.

At that time, he was on the second floor of the Brielda Opera House and did not pay attention to why Dimension Bishop Tolyado chose Somerset, the tough Blood Clan Martial Artist, as his opponent.

It seems Somerset indeed met the standards of amusement for Tolyado.

If Somerset had also offended and angered Tolyado, the Great Demon General, after a few thousand years of unsealing, then naturally Tolyado will teach Somerset the saying, "A scoundrel gets ground by another scoundrel."

"Who is Tolyado?"

Visit freewebnoveℓ.com for the best novel reading exp𝒆rience.

Somerset frowned perplexedly.

He felt the Pope was being somewhat absurd.

"You will know after tens of thousands of years."

Lanci lightly laughed under his mask in response.

"Thousands of years later..."

This did not sound like a joke, making Seventh Ancestor Marquess Helitier's pupils flash with a hint of perplexity.

"Pope, which timeline are you in now?"

Helitier, as if realizing a grand horror, confronted the Pope.

"Guess."

Lanci knew that as a Blood Race Astrologer, Helitier, like the Demon Race Observer Pranay, had a natural sensitivity to timelines.

"This place is either reality... or a future you observed... but if you came from the past, how could you know the future tens of thousands of years later..."

The more the Seventh Ancestor Helitier thought, the more shocked and angry she became.

"Just take it as if I lied to you."

Lanci casually shrugged.

"Lanci, you've confused her mind haha."

Talia said while laughing as she watched from sidelines.

She realized that the greatest fear for Astrologers is to have their temporal perception muddled.

Helitier couldn't possibly clear her mind, as from the enemy's perspective, this place was essentially the future of the past.

"Pope, have you used the Immortal Eternal Penalty on yourself?"

Helitier still could not understand, but one thing was certain now; her blood-red pupils filled with rage.

The Pope's decisive approach, his appearance that he knew everything, his ruthless application of the Immortal Eternal Penalty on himself while maintaining his condition regardless of the cost or consequences, must be because he had seen something!

"Yes."

Lanci placed his hand on his cheek and tilted his mask away, revealing to them his left cheek where a black, centipede-like brand crawled.

"So don't expect me to be weak, or that you can escape."

He boldly declared, conveying the answer to them.

The silver and white masked half-covered cheek, the black centipede's mockingly eyed tip, and the bright chilly light emanating from the green pupils, made all three ancestors feel an inexplicable chill.

"You crazy..."

They had never seen such a nefarious Saint Polante Pope.

It was as though he was completely possessed.

"Demon Race, again the Demon Race... It must be some secret demon treasure left behind by that lowlife Calila that allowed you to divine the future!"

Duke Rashar, the Third Ancestor, screamed hysterically,

"Lancros... you undead thing... must you stand in our way?!"

The Third Ancestor finally did not hide the ferocity in his eyes, understanding that today there would be a fight to the death with Saint Polante Pope, as his crimson magic power surged incrementally.

The truly terrifying aspect of [Immortal Eternal Penalty] magic, is not its use on enemies, but on oneself.