Chapter 445: Submit, Chosen One of the God of Blood
Sylph and Milo…
Those two names ignited a fire within Alfred, his soul burning, his monstrous body struggling against the Heaven’s Cage, wanting to warn them, to tell them Qin Chu was a demon in disguise.
And to tell Eileen that Qin Chu knew their plans.
He didn’t want to die like this, filled with regret and despair.
But Qin Chu wouldn’t allow it.
He took a deep breath.
“Don’t worry, when I’m tired of her, I’ll send her down to keep you company,” he said, a cruel smile twisting his lips.
Alfred’s struggles intensified, his flesh tearing against the chains, revealing the bone beneath. He had to warn Sylph, to show her Qin Chu’s true nature, to tell her he was the one who truly loved her.
Qin Chu stepped back, his wings expanding, his face a mask of sorrowful compassion: “Your Highness… I wanted to save you, to cleanse you of this corruption, but your soul is lost.”
“I have no choice. I must destroy you, to protect the innocent people of Exeter from your… wrath…” his voice echoed through the city.
“Forgive me, Alfred.”
“In the name of the Goddess of Holy Light, I pronounce judgment.”
A silver sword materialized in his hand.
A proper execution required a certain ceremony.
He plunged the blade into Alfred’s chest, holy fire erupting from within, consuming his monstrous form, his body and soul disintegrating into ash.
But the holy fire continued to burn, even after he was gone.
And the crimson mist in the sky, while slightly diminished, hadn’t vanished entirely.
He sensed a lingering, sinister presence, a chilling aura that made his skin crawl.
“Everyone, leave! Now! Get as far away as possible!” he shouted, his voice booming through the city.
Milo, Sylph, and the others, their faces paling, knew something was wrong.
Milo instinctively wanted to help, but Sylph grabbed her arm, shaking her head. This was beyond their capabilities. Interfering would only be a burden.
The three princesses quickly evacuated the area.
Sylph returned to the inn, staying by Athena’s side.
Little Shaye also remained, her face grim, sensing a familiar, sinister aura in the air, similar to the one that had enveloped Loseweisse.
It was… one of the beings in the Void.
She stayed by the window, watching the holy fire burning in the sky, its color now crimson, like blood, swirling and writhing, gradually taking shape.
A massive, skull-like head, adorned with two curved horns, materialized before Qin Chu, its bone white surface stained with crimson, blood dripping from it, sizzling.
Then, two crimson flames ignited in its empty sockets.
Qin Chu felt an immense pressure, as if his body was being crushed, his bones about to shatter, his heart gripped by a clawed hand.
The sky turned crimson, lightning flashing, a rain of blood falling.
His wings, his connection to the Goddess, flared, the Goddess’s Hair on his wrist glowing brightly, the holy light trying to shield him from the oppressive aura, the feathers cracking under the strain.
The sapling emerged from his body, its roots anchoring it to the ground as it grew rapidly into a towering tree, its branches spreading, sheltering the city from the blood rain, its leaves sizzling and dissolving, then regenerating, a green light pulsing through it.
He felt a surge of energy flowing into him, the crushing pressure receding slightly. While still immense, he could at least… move, breathe.
He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the massive skull, its burning eyes.
Which one was this? The God of Blood, Death, and Darkness?
He was one of the most active of the Void’s inhabitants, along with the God of Plagues and Misfortune and the Lord of Pleasure.
He had corrupted Sylph, planted the threads within her soul, and had also corrupted Karsus.
And Loseweisse, through her sacrifice and prayers, had gained his favor, allowing her to challenge Augustus.
He was a violent, bloodthirsty god, reveling in slaughter, in the sounds of screams, of bones breaking, of blood spurting. The most warlike of the seven. He sat upon a throne of bones, a symbol of his power.
This skeletal head was different from the crimson moon that had appeared during Karsus’s demise… this was his first true encounter with a being from the Void, not counting the Goddess of Holy Light, of course.
The experience was unsettling.
He was terrified, his body trembling, an urge to flee.
But another force, a primal instinct, surged within him, urging him to stand his ground.
He felt as if those burning eyes, those crimson flames, were looking into his very soul.
He was being observed by a god.
“Your soul…” the massive skull finally spoke.
It wasn’t a voice, but a thought, a wave of consciousness, filled with rage and malice, yet he understood its meaning.
The ground trembled, buildings collapsing, the stone pavement turning to dust under the immense pressure. Only the inn, protected by Little Shaye, remained standing, the sapling’s branches swaying wildly, sheltering the city.
“Your soul filled with hatred, with slaughter, with blood…” the voice echoed in his mind.
His disguise, his pretense of virtue, was meaningless before this being. He had been seen through.
Perhaps even the Goddess of Holy Light had seen through him.
But she had no choice. He was her only connection to this world.
“Such resentment, such anger, such savagery…”
“You… should be my most loyal follower.”
What was this thing saying? Why would he worship such a grotesque being when he had a perfectly good, beautiful Goddess?
He suspected this… thing had spent too long in the Void, its mind addled.
He hadn’t expected such a proposition. Was this some kind of recruitment drive?
The flames in its eyes intensified, its jaw opening wide, a sound like thunder echoing in Qin Chu’s mind:
“Submit.”
“Submit to me, become my chosen, the champion of the God of Blood!”
“I will guide you, and together, we will create a world of death and despair.”
Chapter 446: Little Shaye’s Tenderness
Submit!
The thunderous command echoed through Qin Chu’s mind.
The pressure was immense, overwhelming.
His consciousness flickered, his soul in turmoil, his mind reeling, unable to think.
Submit!
Submit!
Submit!
The command repeated endlessly.
His wings, the Goddess’s gift, cracked under the strain, their light dimming.
A guttural growl, a desperate cry, escaped his lips.
The stench of blood filled his nostrils.
He saw mountains of corpses, rivers of blood, a vision of slaughter and death, a hellish landscape.
It was both a hallucination and… a memory.
Among the countless corpses, he saw Loseweisse, her body dismembered, her head, still intact, covered in blood, her eyes filled with terror.
He saw Eileen, her small body impaled on a tree branch.
He saw Wadsworth, nothing but a flayed husk.
He saw the First Hero, Jie Luo, his corpse covered in rats and cockroaches.
The souls of Benson, Muse, Karsus, and Ronald burned in a demonic fire, their screams echoing.
All his enemies, all those who had wronged him, dead, their bodies mangled.
It was exactly what he wanted.
He stood amidst the carnage, a blood-soaked axe in his hand.
War and death.
Unseen by even himself, his face twisted into a cruel smile, a mad laughter echoing from his lips.
He remembered his own death in the first loop.
Die, die, die… Kekekeke…
Let them all die.
Crimson patterns spread across his white wings.
The corruption was spreading.
He was being consumed, despite the Goddess’s Hair and his wings’ resistance. This was the direct influence of a Void God, a power beyond the Goddess’s Hair’s protection.
This was far more dangerous than any previous encounter.
The visions, so vivid, so real, so appealing, had awakened the darkness within him.
He wanted to kill, to destroy, to bathe the world in blood.
He was almost lost, seeing more and more death, more and more corpses.
Then, he saw Sylph and Athena, dead.
He saw Anastasia, Norma, Heloise, Iyeta, Violet, Anthea… all dead.
He saw Ireta and Angelica… dead.
His laughter died in his throat.
He saw… both Shayes, their bodies mangled, their faces filled with terror, cut in half.
And in his hand, the axe, dripping with blood.
His pupils contracted.
His body trembled.
No… this wasn’t what he wanted.
He wanted revenge, but not at the cost of those he cared about.
His consciousness fought against the encroaching darkness, his body twisting, his growls turning into choked sobs.
He struggled to break free, but it wasn’t easy.
This was a god, a being of immense power.
He had always avoided direct confrontation with them, knowing he was no match for them.
How could a mortal defy a god?
And this one was even more terrifying than the one Augustus had faced.
Little Shaye, watching him, her face grim, sensed his struggle, though there were no outward signs, no magic, no weapons.
This was a battle she couldn’t help him with.
Athena, her mind reeling from the influx of chaotic information from her now uncontrolled rat network, had been forced to abandon it, joining Sylph beside Little Shaye.
“Miss Shaye, our master…”
“He’s fighting,” Little Shaye said quietly. “Whether he wins or loses… depends on him. We can’t help him.”
Indeed, no one could.
Perhaps the Goddess of Holy Light, but she was silent.
No one knew if she was testing him, or if she was simply too weak to intervene.
His struggles continued, the voice echoing in his mind, surrounding him:
“Submit. Resistance is futile.”
“You’re just a mortal, defying a god. What’s the point? You’ll only suffer more.”
“That world of death and destruction… isn’t that what you desire?”
“Submit, and you will gain eternal life, the power to destroy everything.”
It was both a temptation and a threat.
But Qin Chu’s will, stronger than the god had anticipated, a mortal defying a god, his mind repeating those words… mortal, mortal…
Then, the images flashed through his mind: Augustus, Angelica, both Shayes…
A mad smile twisted his lips.
Yes, he was mortal.
But if Augustus could do it, then so could he.
He opened his eyes, their crimson depths blazing with defiance, not summoning his holy light, his wings, not begging for the Goddess’s mercy.
He laughed, blood and bits of his internal organs splattering from his lips, his body breaking, his soul in turmoil, but a single, unwavering thread of consciousness remained, refusing to yield.
They wanted him to kill Angelica, Shaye, Anthea, Violet… Never.
They wanted him to submit, to become their slave? Never!
He would have his revenge, with his own hands, not through the power of some Evil God. He would send his enemies to hell, even without their help.
He roared, his right arm, its bones practically visible beneath his skin, its veins bulging, rising slowly, inexorably, towards the massive skull.
His fingers touched its surface.
Sacrilege.
To a god, this was an unforgivable offense.
Only he would dare.
The flames in its eyes intensified, as if angered by his defiance.
His hand was engulfed in flames, his flesh burning away, leaving only bone.
But his bones, strengthened by the Evil God’s blood and heart, by the countless cycles of destruction and regeneration, were stronger than any other substance.
His hand, despite being nothing but bone, remained firm, his fingers digging into the skull’s surface.
His body trembled, his will the only thing keeping him from collapsing, a crude curse escaping his lips:
“You want me to submit?”
“Fuck you!”
The second heart within him pounded.
His fingers tightened.
And with a crack, the massive skull shattered.
Only the two flames remained, flickering wildly, as if sensing something terrifying, their light pulsing erratically.
“No… impossible…”
A muffled roar, like distant thunder, echoed through the Void, shaking the city, the mountains crumbling.
“No…”
“No… no…”
The roar was filled with rage and fear.
What could possibly frighten an Evil God?
Then, the roar turned into a strange, unsettling laughter: “Hahaha…”
“I understand now.”
“So that’s how it is…”
“We were all fooled! This was your plan, wasn’t it?”
“You won’t succeed.”
The thunderous voice echoed, but only Qin Chu could understand its meaning. The others, their ears bleeding, collapsed unconscious.
But even he couldn’t comprehend its cryptic pronouncements. Another riddle-loving god… just spit it out already.
What did you understand?
Whose plan?
What plan?
And why was he so pathetic?
His mind reeled, then his vision darkened, and he fell.
Little Shaye, frowning, caught him before he hit the ground, then vanished, reappearing in his room.
His body twitched, his face pale, his injured arm slowly regenerating, the sapling, returning to his body, accelerating the process slightly, its green light pulsing. His wings and the Goddess’s Hair were dormant.
Athena and Sylph watched anxiously, wanting to ask, but fearing to disturb him.
Little Shaye placed a finger to her lips, then pointed towards the door, still holding him, her pinky gently tracing his face.
Perhaps because of the connection to her other self, she didn’t mind touching him, even finding it… comforting.
It felt familiar, warm, intimate.
“He needs to rest.”
Sylph and Athena nodded, leaving the room.
Little Shaye looked at his face, a faint smile finally touching her lips:
“You’re truly a lunatic.”
