Lord of Prayer - Chapter 289 201: Torture

A gloomy, gray mist spread from the end of the street like a tide, blanketing everything in a thick pall.

I’d heard it called the Dissolving Mist. The slightest touch would corrode flesh and blood like a powerful acid. It was a unique type of Nightmare Monster; the entire fog was its body, and it had no physical form.

An enemy like this was extremely difficult to deal with. It was completely immune to physical attacks, leaving most Ascenders helpless. There was nowhere to hide, as the mist was all-pervading. The only escape was a completely sealed room with an oxygen tank.

But for Zhou Chen, all it took was a bit of fire.

He splayed his fingers, and a wisp of pale flame ignited in his palm. An instant later, like a flamethrower, a torrent of scorching, brilliant Cyan Flame erupted from his hand. The Fiery Fire’s tongues danced wildly, rampaging as the terrifying heat bored into the Dissolving Mist, the sheer force of it churning the entire mass of fog.

Like a spark hitting gasoline, the Dissolving Mist instantly ignited upon contact with the Cyan Flame. The great fire spread with visible speed, burning away the gloom.

“Burst!”

Zhou Chen snapped his fingers shut. The pale fire flared, and a violent roar echoed.

But no physical explosion occurred. There was no shockwave, no damage to the surroundings. This was a blast on the spiritual level.

Physical attacks were useless against a special Nightmare Monster like the Dissolving Mist. Even a missile barrage would only temporarily disperse its form. The Cyan Flame, however, was a special Spiritual Flame, making it the perfect counter.

In the rumbling aftermath, the spiritual blast easily tore the Dissolving Mist to shreds, utterly annihilating the Nightmare Monster. The now-inert fog rapidly dissipated into the air, and the ruins that had been swallowed by the gloom saw the light of day once more.

Zhou Chen lowered his arm and turned to look at the other battlefield.

Gunfire roared as three machine guns spat terrifying chains of fire. Bullets rained down, and the army of Nightmare Monsters—composed of the Skinless and Soul Eaters—fell in droves, mowed down like wheat.

But their numbers seemed endless, as they poured unceasingly from the end of the street.

Just as Zhou Chen was about to help, he heard a faint, weak cough. He instantly tensed, his senses on high alert.

“Cough, cough, cough… cough, cough, cough, cough…”

The coughing came from behind a crumbling wall nearby. It sounded like an old man on his deathbed, his coughs laced with pain.

Zhou Chen narrowed his eyes and cautiously approached to investigate.

Suddenly, the coughing grew more violent, like the last burst of energy from a dying man. Frighteningly, more coughs joined in from behind the ruined wall.

Two people, three, four… A growing chorus of coughs rose from behind the wall, overlapping, sickly and weak.

But the wall clearly wasn’t big enough to hide that many people.

‘An unknown Nightmare Monster?’ Zhou Chen frowned, carefully circling to the side of the wall. To his horror, there was nothing behind it!

‘Nothing? How is that possible!’

The instant his gaze fell upon the empty space, the eerie, overlapping coughs stopped, vanishing completely.

Zhou Chen’s brow furrowed. After a moment’s hesitation, just to be safe, he launched a Fireball that obliterated the wall and everything within a ten-meter radius.

A second later, a stooped figure was blasted out of thin air by the raging Fiery Fire. It slammed heavily to the ground, screaming and wailing as it rolled, trying to smother the Cyan Flame that clung to it.

‘Sneaky old bastard!’ Zhou Chen clicked his tongue. ‘This guy is way too good at hiding. He must have some kind of Invisibility Skill; even I didn’t sense him. If I hadn’t been cautious, the sneaky bastard would’ve gotten away.’

It was an old man in a hospital gown. He was withered and gaunt, his eye sockets as sunken as a skeleton’s. A few strands of hair drifted on his head like weeds. But Zhou Chen’s impression wasn’t of a Nightmare Monster, but of a living person—an Ascender.

Zhou Chen materialized a handgun, aimed at the old man’s legs, and pulled the trigger. He questioned him in a cold voice:

“Why did you attack me?”

BANG! BANG! Two shots. Blood sprayed as bullets punched two holes in the old man’s legs.

“Let me go… I’ll give you my Extraordinary Artifact…” the old man shrieked, begging for his life. He could feel his spiritual will being rapidly incinerated by an invisible fire. The excruciating pain made him tremble, and the shadow of imminent death and Fear completely consumed him.

Zhou Chen couldn’t help but laugh. “You think I can’t get the Artifact after I kill you?

And I’m asking you: why did you attack me?”

He was smiling, but his eyes were devoid of warmth, chilling to the bone.

“If I tell you, will you spare my life?” the old man asked, enduring the pain.

“No. But I’ll give you a clean death. If you don’t talk, I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

Hearing this, the old man fell silent, quietly enduring the agony of the spiritual incineration. ‘Since I’m dead either way, why should I make it easy for him?’

“Playing tough?”

Zhou Chen’s lips curved into a smile that was a mixture of calm, madness, and bloodlust. “Apologies, I forgot to mention. I’m a member of the American Chainsaw Murder Association. When it comes to methods of torture…”

Before he could finish, the old man let out a terrified shriek. Staring at Zhou Chen’s elegant, bloodthirsty smile, he seemed to recall some horrifying experience or story:

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything! Just make it quick! Make it quick!!”