Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods! - Chapter 545

Chapter 545: Chapter101-Watching a Battle Between Powerhouses
The Third Princess was visibly displeased. Yet as she glanced around at the surrounding devastation, it wasn’t hard for her to imagine just how powerful that unexpected intruder must have been.

“Well then,” she said coldly, “I’ll give you three days.”

With that, she turned around and made to leave.

But Alan remained rooted to the spot, a conflicted expression flickering across his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s… it’s nothing. You go ahead. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

Without waiting for her response, Alan turned and strode off, heading directly in the direction where the gray-robed elder had vanished.

The Third Princess bit her lip in frustration, muttering through gritted teeth, “You really are… unbelievable!”

A few moments earlier—just as they had stepped out of the secret chamber—Alan had once again heard the voice of the black-robed woman inside his mind.

“Don’t let this opportunity slip away!”

Her words left him momentarily baffled. “What opportunity?”

There was a brief pause before her voice grew sharp with urgency. “That man carries a Sealed Artifact. What do you think this opportunity is?”

“A… Sealed Artifact?!”

At those three words, Alan’s hesitation vanished completely.

But there was still one lingering problem: how to explain this to the Third Princess.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier that he had a Sealed Artifact?” Alan grumbled. “If I’d known, I could’ve made up an excuse and slipped out of the confessional unnoticed…”

The black-robed woman let out a sigh, clearly exasperated.

“Idiot. If the church hadn’t softened him up for you first, with your current level of power, charging in blindly would’ve been no different from suicide.”

Back to the present.

Noticing that Alan was about to walk off after barely saying a word, the Third Princess frowned and turned toward one of Isaac’s nearby subordinates.

“You! Follow him. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

The subordinate responded with a flustered salute and immediately chased after Alan at full speed.

Yet just a few minutes later, he reappeared in front of the Third Princess, clearly out of breath.

“What happened?” she demanded, her patience wearing thin.

The subordinate looked as if he were on the verge of tears. “F-forgive me, Princess… That guy’s just too fast! I couldn’t keep up with him at all…”

“Too… fast?”

The Third Princess blinked, confused.

From what she knew, Alan had never been known for speed. He was a magus, not a rogue or a scout. Could he really be hiding something even she wasn’t aware of?

The more she thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed.

…

On Alan’s end, after parting ways with the Third Princess, he had left Ironblood City without delay, following the black-robed woman’s instructions. He made his way deep into the nearby plains.

From a distance, he could already see a group of church robed figures facing off against the gray-robed elder in a tense standoff.

Alan clenched his fists, clearly itching to join the battle.

But the black-robed woman’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“What’s the rush? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Alan scratched his head. “So we wait until they’re both worn out before stepping in?”

The woman didn’t reply, but her silence was agreement enough.

Still, standing around doing nothing didn’t sit well with him.

Alan couldn’t help but ask, “Senior… what exactly is a Sealed Artifact? Can it really suppress those things from Hell?”

Her attention, however, was entirely focused on the battle ahead. She gave a rather half-hearted answer: “The essence of a Sealed Artifact… even if I told you now, you probably wouldn’t understand. It’s better to wait until you actually get your hands on one.”

Alan frowned, feeling frustrated. It was like she was deliberately keeping him in suspense. But he also knew she had a point—trying to comprehend something you’ve never seen or touched was no easy task.

All he could do was hold back his curiosity and quietly observe the unfolding clash between the church’s powerhouses and the gray-robed elder.

“Senior, I don’t know if you remember… but back in that miniature world, the creature from the second layer of Hell already seemed to have awakened. It even appeared to help me once…”

“Mm.” She responded with a noncommittal hum, clearly unconcerned.

But Alan still felt a lingering sense of unease. That thing… it had already started influencing the real world. If left unchecked, who knew when it might just kill him in his sleep?

That thought sent a chill down his spine, and he asked, “Is there any way you could… I don’t know, give it a warning or something? Make it behave? I just feel uneasy knowing it’s always lurking…”

The black-robed woman finally lost her patience.

“What are you so afraid of?” she snapped. “Stop underestimating your own importance. Who are you? You’re Hell’s warden. If it ever truly meant to kill you, the other layers wouldn’t sit idly by. And don’t forget—Hell itself isn’t some mindless, lifeless pit.”

“You’re like a nail, locking the last strand of Hell’s leash in place. If you’re gone, everything down there would fall apart. That thing wouldn’t dare act recklessly—it’d be inviting disaster.”

Her tone grew firm.

“So stop worrying. With your role, you’re more protected than you realize.”

Alan was left speechless. He—a warden—was supposedly the linchpin that kept the entire Hell sealed? Since when had he become such a crucial figure?

Just then, in the distant plains, a vast dark curtain unfolded, blotting out the sky. It rapidly expanded and enveloped everyone caught in the middle of the battle.

The dark fog—thick, suffocating, and saturated with dark-element mana—seemed impenetrable.

None of the church’s elite warriors managed to escape.

Alan’s heart began to pound in his chest. It was clear to him now just how terrifying this black mist really was.

The black-robed woman didn’t give him a chance to hesitate.

“What are you afraid of? If Sealed Artifacts were so easy to get, they wouldn’t be called that, would they? The timing’s right—get in there now!”

“Alright!” Alan took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and charged from his hiding place into the battlefield.

As soon as he entered the black fog, he was immediately struck by just how oppressively dense the dark-element energy had become.

The ground beneath him was dry and cracked, parched like a desert that hadn’t seen rain in centuries.

A few scattered trees—once rooted deep in the plains—had withered completely, resembling haunted husks not unlike the fabled tree spirits of the Mist Forest.

And the fog itself… it was endless.

Alan looked around, but couldn’t see its edges. This wasn’t just a spell—it was a domain, a world of shadow created by an overwhelmingly powerful being.

To have expanded elemental energy across such a vast area… the gray-robed elder’s power must be beyond comprehension.

“Quit overthinking. As long as I’m here, you won’t die.”

Alan paused at the black-robed woman’s calm assurance, but her words worked like a charm. His nerves finally eased.

With newfound resolve, he plunged deeper into the black mist.

It wasn’t long before he reached the center of the plains, and there, he found them—the high-ranking members of the church.

Their bodies lay still on the ground, cold and lifeless.

Each one looked like their blood had been completely drained—dried out husks, withered like mummies, staring into the void.

No life remained in them.

Alan clenched his fists again.

This was no longer just a battle.

This… was a slaughter.