From God of Lies to Lord of All Worlds

Chapter 75: That Day, All of New York Saw the Light

Naturally, they were not the only ones paying attention to this ritual.

Police helicopters circled in the sky above, faithfully reporting the situation on the ground to Golden Hair far away in the White House.

Together with his staff and the most important high officials of the entire nation, he stared at the footage.

Red lava continually churned below, gradually filling the East River and completely surrounding the building.

Under the scorching heat, the entire prison had completely turned into a living hell. Only on the roof of a single building did any living creatures remain.

Up on that roof, ten thousand people fell to their knees on the spot, beginning the true ritual under the guidance of two men.

Led by Knight Leon, the farmer turned Saint, George Stacey, acted as the primary guide to commence a grand ritual prayer.

Everyone was ready, simply because they had no other choice. They all understood the typical behavior of the American Officials; there was no way they were going to be rescued.

Just like the massive wildfire in California, or the severe snowstorm that once hit Texas, the government would not send a dedicated rescue force for them. The fact that they were a bunch of criminals made it even more impossible.

Even if it had been feasible earlier, the opportunity was gone now. The scorching magma had turned this place into a desperate deadland, leaving everyone here with nothing to do but wait for death to descend.It was precisely because of this that Leon was able to organize the men for one final gamble.

The Police Chief and the others had flown into the sky in a helicopter, watching this grand ritual unfold.

"The people of the Church really are madmen. They are using their own lives as a wager!" Stephen exclaimed.

Beside him, Jeff held a different opinion. This major streamer had overnight become a devout believer. He argued, "This isn't a crazy wager, but a special ritual to save New York!"

"He carries every single person in this city within his heart. That is the greatest compassion!"

Perhaps it truly was the power brought by the Holy Light that gave Jeff such profound empathy. "I cannot speak for anyone else, but at the very least, Mr. Leon is devout and kind!"

Leon and George could have both left. They had the ability, they had the means, and Stephen would have gladly picked them up, but neither chose to do so!

They stayed behind, hoping to survive alongside the people before them and save this city together.

The two men looked down from above. Leon was kneeling on the ground, using a blade to slice open his palm. Drawing upon the power of the Stigmata, he sketched a special mark.

It was a massive cross, slowly glowing on the ground.

Then, in that nearly silent atmosphere, everyone heard his first prayer.

"Yahweh! The Lord who provided the ram on Mount Moriah!

The abyss before our feet has swallowed the Morning Star,

The Sulfur Storm burns the roots of the Lily.

We entreat You to break the silence from Your Cherubim Chariot,

Just as You parted the curtain of the Red Sea in days of old!"

The voice of this prayer was not loud, yet it resounded over the worldly clamor in the early morning sky.

George, who had been personally appointed a Saint by Michael, also slowly knelt in front of Leon and voiced his supplication.

"These hands that once held the Five Loaves and Two Fish are festering,

The iron armor encasing this chest is crawling with cowardly maggots,

But You promised: 'My power is made perfect in weakness.'

At this moment, we offer up this broken sword hilt as a sacrifice,

Acknowledging that You alone are the thunderclap that tears the heavens!"

Just as his words fell, a bolt of lightning suddenly flashed across the clear sky. It was a streak of lightning tearing through the firmament, illuminating everything before them.

"Boom!" A terrifying crack of thunder exploded in everyone's ears, instantly rendering those who had been watching for a joke entirely speechless.

Leon tossed the stone from his chest into the air. A spear of light pierced through it mid-flight as he roared aloud.

"May the cold gleam of the Holy Lance of Longinus pierce the venomous haze,

Using the blood from Your side as ink to rewrite the covenant!"

George, holding The Bible in his hands, stood and prayed.

"We pray You use the resurrected Five Wounds Stigmata as coordinates,

To descend a Holy Light Matrix like the blooming of an iris.

Let the scorched earth sprout new buds of the broom tree,

And reverse the collapsed poisonous river into the wine from the wedding at Cana!"

The Saint stepped before the ten thousand prisoners, guiding them to recite the final prayer that had just been passed by word of mouth to every person.

"Should You delay Your aid,

We shall use our bones as stakes, tendons as strings,

To string a taut bridge of faith over the abyss!

When the banner of salvation sweeps through the valley of the shadow of death,

A new song shall ring out in the pale light of dawn:

'You break the bow and spear, crushing the enemy upon the battlefield!'"

Low voices rumbled across the rooftop. As they chanted this final prayer, it was as if they were concluding an unimaginably grand ritual.

The voices of everyone seemed to echo across the entire island, reverberating through all the surrounding space.

These were the three powers Michael had spoken of. As a Holy Knight, Leon's prayer was the Holy Chant.

As a Saint, George's prayer was the Holy Lament.

As devout believers, the prayer of these ten thousand men was the Holy Melody.

At this point, the Trinity was complete, and the prayer belonging to the Church reached its final phase.

Finally, Leon and George stood together, facing the direction of the rising sun, and uttered the concluding invocation.

"May the Lord descend to temper this prayer, like a potter reshaping clay.

Amen!"

The erupting sound of the magma was like a terrifying Omen of the Apocalypse. The rolling lava was like a prelude to world destruction. As everyone prayed on the roof, the crisis covering the entire island finally erupted completely!

The mixture of intensely hot magma and seawater created a terrifying temperature difference, triggering a reaction known as a "Mist Explosion"—a specific type of explosive steam eruption.

This terrifying explosion would not occur immediately. Instead, pressure rapidly built up during the high-temperature reaction, eventually releasing all at once.

When that happened, the dreadful shockwave, the horrifying blast, and the even more exaggerated secondary disasters would turn this place into purgatory!

This was exactly why Chief Stephen was willing to let Leon give it a try.

The range of this fearsome explosion could stretch for miles, and the devastation would even directly rip through neighboring Manhattan!

On a map of New York, the prison was situated just north of LaGuardia Airport.

With such a short distance, he didn't even dare to imagine what the entirety of New York would become if such an explosion occurred!

But right now, Stephen still painfully covered his eyes. "Damn it, is it still not enough?"

They could see that among the rapidly cooling obsidian, jets of white, high-pressure steam were rapidly spraying out!

Temperatures reaching thousands of degrees could easily cook any living creature alive.

If the professionals' estimates were correct, in just a few dozen seconds, this temporarily solidified obsidian would violently detonate.

When that time came, the concussive shrapnel and sharp glassy fragments would become exaggerated bullets, tearing through Manhattan, Queens, and the Bronx, turning into lethal blades!

As for the people on the roof of the office building, there was no possibility of them surviving either. After all, those high-temperature vapors would be released indiscriminately, boiling them alive in a very short amount of time.

This situation was clearly already a deadlock!

Watching from the side, Jeff also felt disheartened. 'So, did it fail? Even with a Holy Knight and a Saint, could they not get the Lord to cast down even a single glance?'

Just as he thought this, a tiny black dot suddenly appeared in his vision.

"Wait, Chief Stephen, look at the sky!"

Hearing Jeff's words, not only Stephen but everyone on the communication channel raised their heads to look up.

Up in the air, a slender figure appeared in everyone's eyes.

He seemed to have appeared out of thin air, descending slowly.

In everyone's eyes, he fell very slowly, yet in almost the blink of an eye, he had already arrived above Rikers Island.

This was a young-looking man. Holding a sword radiating white light, he appeared before everyone.

If their guesses were correct, this man was the Saint that Michael had spoken of!

This sight prompted the people across the entire island to fall to their knees, wishing to pay their respects.

But the man simply raised a hand, making it impossible for anyone to kneel. "I am merely a servant of the Lord. Do not bow to me!"

He spoke slowly as he lifted the sword in his hand. Staring at the endless lava on the ground, his eyes were filled with profound compassion.

Consequently, a magnificent prayer was chanted from his lips. The grandiose voice even commanded the attention of all the surrounding areas.

"Our Father in heaven,

Hallowed be Your name.

Your kingdom come,

Your will be done, on earth

As it is in heaven."

After saying these words, he raised the sword in his grip and forcefully thrust it downward!

This scene was naturally witnessed by Stephen and Jeff in the sky above. They were both extremely curious: just what could a Saint descending from the heavens actually do?

Then, they saw a massive burst of Holy Light that enveloped the entire island!

At this moment, all of New York saw the light!