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Du Wei was shocked of course by the abrupt movement. Hurrying to get away, he had no intent of facing this person head on or getting in their way. Fortunately for him though, the Pope’s goal wasn’t a clueless brat, clearly evident by the silvery cross that’s aimed at the figure opposite to himself.

White River didn’t look so good when he saw what the item was. Slightly pale and very angry, “How? How did you know about that thing! You…”

Gnashing his teeth, the Pope’s sweat was now pouring out as a result of the exertion: “Shaman King, I knew your magical powers are amazing prior to coming, but a person will always have a weakness. Someone has told me, if I use a silver cross inscribed with a soul eating spell, it will be able to kill you…”

A raging flame now resides within the egotistic man’s eye: “Who told you this? Is it Scarlet Water’s Resolute, or Blue Ocean’s Moon!”

Note: Its Rugaard of the Northwest Army and Mr. Blue Ocean in case anyone forgot.

Inhaling deeply, the Pope’s hand seems to tremble even harder now as he tries to stab the foe with the silver cross: “I don’t know any of the names you mentioned above.”

Sighing now, the Shaman King understands: “I see, the person who told you must be Rugaard.”

Though still fearful of the coming cross trying to stab at him, White River nevertheless musters enough to strength to stagger backwards and fling out a shot from his fingers at the attacker’s left hand.

Swoot!

But it was not meant to be. A yellow radiance promptly emerged to act as magical defense for the other side. While it may be enough to keep the Pope safe from harm, the force still manages to sway that hand enough to make him drop the silvery cross to the floor. “I see then Shaman King, I knew you still had some energy left in you. But no matter, you won’t be able to hold on for much longer in your current state.”

The remark brought on a new wave of fear into the egotistic man because the Pope’s unsteady body actually uprighted himself some more as that white silvery hair regained some of its luster and became a black color. This horrified Du Wei of course because its no different from someone regaining their youth from old age. Pity though, the amazing feat was marred by the faintly showing wrinkles, indicating this couldn’t be long lasting.

Snorting at the sight instead, White River didn’t take kindly to this as well. “And what about you? How long do you think that silly power of yours can hold up your body?!”

Unfazed at being caught, Igor the Pope knew what must be done. Spurting out a mouthful of his blood onto the silvery cross, the thing immediately lit up with a holy glow.

“Huh? Your holy powers can still be used in this fashion?” Making a stunned face, White River didn’t expect something like this based on his expression.

Making a begrudging smile in return: “What holy power, it’s nothing but a technique to infuse an object with another layer of power. The ignorant would call this holy power, but in front of someone as strong as you Shaman King, it’s nothing but a coat up job. It’s a laughable weapon by all means, however, it’s the best weapon to bring the most harm to someone like you in your state.”

Finished there, Igor the Pope slowly reached over again after picking up the cross. He wanted to stab the Shaman King with it this time to make sure the cross would at least do some serious harm with the new coat of energy. Sadly, it was to no avail because White River’s blade had blocked it with a slash in the struggle. To be clear, their measures of fighting revolved around slow motioning movements, a far cry from their earlier bout using the laws of this world to bend and twist space and time.

“Despicable! Despicable Roland people. Despicable fakes.” White River cries out wildly, enraged by the fact that he had dropped his scimitar due to the lack of strength. “You did not beat me! It was not you! So based on what can you kill me!”