Wheee! The wind surged forth from within Bishop Miller’s body, lifting and holding up his deep blue clerical robe. Crackle! Crackle! Crackle! The branches of the nearby street trees snapped and soared into the air. Darnah’s body rose involuntarily, thrown several meters before crashing to the ground, her entire frame aching. Not only she—Cecil, Danton, Dimerdo, Harris, and others were likewise carried off by the gust, landing in various positions. Only Crivels, Tige, and Urdis, either due to their well-practiced, heavier builds or their unusually robust, heavy frames, staggered and fell, rolling several times before coming to rest. Elran, directly facing Bishop Miller, executed a series of backward steps and backward rolls, successfully evading the direct impact of the wind pressure. Neither Kline nor Daniz chose to resist; instead, they yielded and drifted backward, like kites, nearly collapsing, yet ultimately maintaining their balance. The moment the hurricane began to subside, six figures emerged from the scattered mist, all draped in black cloaks. Their heads had been lost, leaving only their necks gushing with blood, sustained only by the swirling breeze lifting their hoods. Hoo! Hoo! From their throats came the low, animal-like murmurs of creatures bracing for action. Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Sharp, slender gusts of wind sliced through, carving distinct and deep gashes where they passed over Caine, leaving clear marks of their passage. Tapping, tapping, tapping! With a lantern in hand and his deep-blue cleric's robe gently billowing, Bishop Miller advanced, and the six headless figures charged toward Caine, Elran, and the others, their footsteps causing the ground to tremble. One headless creature was already formidable—now six of them came at once, and one was clearly a contaminated bishop! Bishop Daniz, witnessing this, could hardly suppress a growing sense of unease. At that very moment, a flash of yellow-bronze light streaked past his vision, heading toward the distance. Tap, tap, tap—Azk With a sudden burst, the six headless figures simultaneously changed direction, rushing toward where the Azk copper horn had come to rest, leaving Bishop Miller standing alone in the midst. At that moment, the wind blade's attack seemed like a machine gun sweeping across, and Klein barely managed to dodge half of it, his body torn apart, reduced to thin, delicate fragments that drifted through the air. Klein reappeared in a different direction, charging toward Bishop Miller, determined to close the distance between them to a point where he could effectively engage. Two crimson flames surged into being, spreading along the ground surface toward the location of Azk's copper horn, forming a blazing, four-sided wall of fire. He had originally intended to hurl a fireball at Bishop Miller, enabling Germain Spalro to leap easily into position and launch his attack. However, upon observing that the fierce winds around the bishop remained unyielding, he abandoned this plan with sound judgment, opting instead to first clear the headless monsters so as not to disrupt Germain Spalro's full potential. By now, Krievs, Cecil, Tige, and Harris had risen again, retrieved their weapons, and positioned themselves in the center, shielding Urdi, Dona, and Dimerdo, while remaining vigilant for any additional monsters. Their experience had taught them that, without prior training in coordination, it was best not to intervene prematurely in the battle involving non-human entities. Thud! Thud! Thud! Six headless figures paid no heed to the flames licking at them, bursting through the crimson walls and rushing like starved dogs to seize the Azk copper whistle. This gave Elran the time he needed to calmly infuse the spirit into the "Sun Brooch," waiting for the holy water to solidify and flow into the square-shaped decanter. Seeing the crowd of headless figures jostling and scrambling, Daniz felt a spark of inspiration. He slightly bent forward, his face flushing, and gathered a long lance of flame at the base of his right palm, its tip blazing white-hot. Taking a step forward, he turned, swung his arm, and launched the lance, which soared through the air and struck one of the headless figures, impaling it firmly to the ground. A surge of brilliant white flame erupted, and half of the figure's body instantly turned to ash; the remaining portion continued to burn, releasing black and green gases that rose in steady plumes. As Daniz felt the success of his first strike and prepared to follow up, he suddenly became acutely aware of a wild, terrifying hunger—so intense that for a moment, he felt as though he stood before the abyss, only a step away from falling into it. He knew that Germaine Spalro no longer suppressed the wild soul within him. After three consecutive paper figures had been used as intermediaries, Caine finally reached the designated distance. His left-hand glove suddenly burst forth with long-dormant hunger, slowly growing out one by one dark golden scales. Caine's pupils then lightened, as if rising vertically. Immediately, his eyes reflected the gentle swaying of Bishop Miller in his deep blue robe. Without a sound, the middle-aged man, who had just been preparing a flurry of wind blades, suddenly arched his head back, his body freezing for a moment. The once-clear, rational glow in his dark red eyes vanished, replaced by a sense of wild frenzy; his skin became smooth and patterned, resembling the outer surface of certain aquatic organisms. He exhaled a sound as though emanating from the depths of the ocean, and suddenly, slender, slick, and repulsive tentacles emerged from beneath his blue robe! The "mania" of the "psychiatrist"! Klein had originally intended only to disrupt the bishop's attack, creating an opportunity for subsequent control. Yet, unexpectedly, after the initial frenzy, Bishop Miller completely lost his composure! Once the final anchor of his sanity—long since corrupted or tainted—was removed, the very essence of his being plunged into chaos. Witnessing this, Klein's eyes narrowed, hesitated no longer, and switched the souls he was commanding. As Miller's mind unraveled, golden light spread across the gloves of Klein's left hand, his expression grew stern, and his gaze once again locked onto the bishop. Within his pupils, two streaks of lightning-like brilliance instantly flared. Suddenly, Bishop Miller cried out in agony, drawing back both hands and his tentacles, cradling his head. His spirit was pierced, suffering an unimaginable, intense pain. "The Inquisitor!" With a firm press of his right palm, Klein rose to his feet, and the light in his left hand brightened. Then, he arched his body, arms fully extended, as if embracing the sun. A thick, pure, and blazing beam of light descended from the heavens and settled upon Bishop Miller, completely enveloping him. The surroundings seemed to become day, and the roaring wind instantly ceased. Sequence 5, "Priest of Light!" Bishop Miller's body began to evaporate—first his skin, then his limbs, and finally his flesh. When the brilliant light column faded, he had lost his human form, transformed into a monstrous mass of white bones and flesh, barely breathing. Yet he had not died! The resilience of the Uncontrolled was unprecedented! Kaine's expression remained unchanged. He hurried several steps to Bishop Miller's remains, knelt on one knee, and leaned forward, placing his left palm upon the mass of flesh and bone. He chose not to utilize the "Priest of Light" ability—so that the "craving hunger" might still have sustenance. A crack appeared silently at the palm of the glove, from which two rows of ethereal, pale, tooth-like structures emerged, greedily gnawing at flesh, bone, and spirit. Yet Bishop Miller still struggled, steadying his bodily form and growing several new tendrils, reaching out to wrap around Caine, pulling him into his embrace. Caine dropped his staff, drew his revolver, and fired five shots at the creature. *Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump!* The bullets—golden, yellow, or silver—struck Bishop Miller, igniting patches of flame in varying hues. Miller once again emitted a cry from his soul, utterly unable to resist the "creeping hunger," and both his flesh and spirit dissolved into a rushing stream, flowing into the creature's eager maw. In mere seconds, the ground was left only with fragments of clothing, remnants of currency, and slowly coalescing deep blue and green glimmers. This was the difference between "devouring" and "pastoral care." Caine preferred the latter, but here, there was no other sustenance available. At the same time, Captain Ailran had already created two waves of holy water within the square-shaped decanter. Daniz hurried to call out, "Throw it!" Without hesitation, Ailran tossed the decanter toward the headless figures fighting over the bronze whistle. Clearing his throat, Daniz straightened up. With his left hand casually tucked into his pocket and his right hand extending forward in a steady motion, he swiftly summoned a series of crimson fire ravens around him. These semi-phantom fire ravens took flight, each following distinct paths, and simultaneously struck the square decanter, landing precisely on the heads of the group of headless figures. Crashing! The decanter shattered, and the holy water poured down like a cascade. Sizzling! All the remaining headless figures were drenched, shrieking and convulsing, then collapsing to the ground. They rapidly dissolved into blood, while the Azk bronze whistle lay quietly in the clean space at the center. Germán Sparrow truly stands out—he has the capability to hold his own even against the Captain. Unfortunately, the extraordinary abilities he displayed just now weren't clearly visible. Daniz turned to look at Klein, who stood before Miller's belongings, and silently remarked. Then, he noticed Germán Sparrow giving him a cold, brief glance. Without thinking, Daniz hurried out, picking up the Azk copper whistle once more. Tondra rubbed her bruised arms, watching as the black-dressed Sparrow uncle walked back a few steps, bent down to pick up the half-high silk hat, silently brushed off the dust, and re-fastened it. PS: A book recommendation—*Sorry, having a system really is impressive*. This is a book by the Ugly God, widely regarded as a genuinely kind and humble figure among male authors. He consistently shares his work quietly, never seeking recognition. His books are humorous, refreshing, and full of charm.