Chapter 1150: 137. As If Winning

Marcie opened her eyes.

Blue sky, white clouds, green trees, clear water... and the distant city all disappeared from her field of vision.

Replacing them were the dim yellow end of the sky, barren mountains, earth dyed red by bloodstains, and... one worried face after another.

"Are... are you all right?"

Theresa was being held by Landa. He held his own scabbard and carefully poked Marcie’s hand with it, his expression taut, as if he were ready at any moment to have Landa carry him and run away at full speed:

"You... didn’t turn into a monster?"

"No."

Marcie answered seriously, "But you look very tasty."

"What?"

Theresa turned pale with shock, grabbed Landa’s head, and frantically twisted it to the side:

"Quick, quick, run! This fellow has already turned into a monster! If we don’t run quickly, she’s going to eat me!"

"..."

No one paid attention to Theresa playing monster.

Landa gave Marcie a bitter smile.

Marcie shook her head and did not say anything. Theresa making a joke like this did indeed give her the real feeling that she had returned.

"How is it? Is there any discomfort in your body?"

"My body... feels very good."

Marcie lowered her head and looked at her own hands.

Those hands had once again returned to their former appearance. All the abnormalities had already disappeared. The only difference was... black patterns wandered beneath her skin, like flames, and also like mercury.

Fortunately, they soon disappeared.

Her body felt very good.

Or rather, unprecedentedly good.

One had to know that not long ago, she had only just experienced a life-and-death battle, and afterward had encountered the sudden upheaval concerning the truth of Annabawei. Under this double grinding, logically speaking, whether in spirit or body, she should have been extremely exhausted.

But at this moment, all fatigue had already disappeared. She seemed to have gained a new life, her entire person light and floating.

"It’s good that you’re all right."

"Mr. Muen..."

Following the voice, Marcie turned her gaze toward Muen.

At this time, the sky was already about to darken once more. Muen was sitting on a rather large piece of broken stone. From Marcie’s angle, behind him was the final light, making every strand of his hair look crystalline.

"What’s wrong?" Muen smiled. Marcie’s current appearance also made him feel as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. It was not only because she herself was completely unharmed. It also meant that his risky gamble... had succeeded.

At least, he would not be beaten to death by Miss Dragon for the time being.

"I just saw some images that didn’t belong here..."

Marcie asked hopefully, "Was that what the outside looks like?"

"Images?"

Muen was stunned.

What images? He had never heard that after an "evil believer" finished a "sacrificial ritual," there would be this kind of aftereffect.

No... it could not be considered an "aftereffect," but rather...

Muen’s thoughts stirred, and he immediately realized that someone had used their authority to make a few little moves just now.

The one who could cause some trouble at a time like this... was probably only that little fellow.

Her reaction was this fast?

That little Pope of his... was a little frightening...

Muen rubbed his chin and said, "I roughly know what happened. That little girl didn’t make things difficult for you, did she?"

"No."

Marcie shook her head hard. "That person... is a very good person. She even said she would appoint me as an archbishop... although I don’t know what an archbishop actually is."

"..."

That fellow... was quite generous.

The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched.

"We’ll talk about that kind of thing later. Since your body is safe and sound now, that means my reckless action was correct. It’s time to continue to the next step."

Using Pollution to fight Pollution—this was probably the best method Muen could think of.

Perhaps it was also the only method.

"What about the others?"

Muen stood up. Since the method had already been established, what had to be done next was to spread this method outward.

The ones he wanted to pollute were not only Marcie, and not only the Pioneers here, but the whole of Annabawei.

Of course, that kind of thing could not possibly be accomplished in one stroke.

"You are the second stage. I think only if you succeed will the ordinary people of Annabawei be willing to believe that this kind of Pollution can save them."

Muen spoke very seriously. He had originally wanted to say some nice words to make a bit of a mobilizing speech, but when he remembered that, before the result had been known, these people had shown absolutely no sign of retreating, now that Marcie had succeeded, they were even less likely to retreat.

"Then we will trouble Mr. Muen."

Just as expected, everyone took the initiative to come over, without the slightest hesitation.

"Very good. Thank you all for your trust. However, there is one extremely cruel point that I still have to explain in advance."

Muen looked around at these Pioneers, almost every one of them wounded, and finally his gaze landed on Theresa at the head.

Even though only his upper body remained, this man who had always come and gone like the wind still remained at the front.

Sensing Muen’s gaze, Theresa seemed to realize something and smiled freely:

"Hey, Mr. Muen, just say whatever you have to say. Right now, there’s nothing for everyone to be so reserved about. Surely you wouldn’t still be hiding something from us?"

"I shouldn’t hide it from you..."

Muen gave a bitter smile:

"Actually, it is very simple. Pollution is not omnipotent. The reason the Pollution of Evil Gods can grant the polluted powerful vitality is because within that Pollution, there is the power of an Evil God.

"But even the power of Evil Gods has differences in strength. Among some evil believers I know of who directly offered sacrifices to Evil Gods, their vitality was so strong that losing their heads was no different from losing hair. As long as there was continuous support from an Evil God, they could be called ‘undying.’

"But you are different."

Muen paused.

Having reached this point, most people could already understand what he meant. Landa, who was holding Theresa, was already streaming tears down her face.

But Muen still felt that he had the duty to say it completely.

At least, some things were better made a little clearer.

"You are different. The Pollution on your bodies is only Pollution, that’s all. Even if there is residual power from an Evil God, that cannot raise your vitality to the level of a qualitative change. At most, it can only let you linger a little longer on the edge of death. The fact that your injuries have never been able to recover is proof."

Theresa’s abdomen—not only his intestines, but his other organs as well—was rapidly undergoing deformity.

But even so, those injuries still showed not the slightest sign of recovering.

Those "evil believers" who had already turned into deformities before had also been the same.

Aside from making them no longer "human," the Pollution on their bodies had brought them an extremely tiny increase.

They could [N O V E L I G H T] also be heavily injured, and they could also die.

"I do not possess power as mighty as an Evil God’s, and I do not have the ability to pull you back from the edge of death. So the others are still all right, but those who are already severely injured to begin with... once they are polluted by me, they will die."

Muen was not a true god. He could not rewrite the outcome of a person’s life and death.

This was his current helplessness.

"I don’t want to die after turning into that ghostly sort of appearance!"

Theresa bared his teeth and said, as hearty as always, "What’s the use of clinging to life for a little longer? Anyway, I’ve already seen the light. As a Pioneer, I don’t have any regrets. Please let me have a clean end."

"Me too..."

"Please, Mr. Muen, clear away my Pollution..."

"I want to die as a human..."

Voices rose from every direction.

Their words were noisy and mixed.

But the things these brave people said always made one’s heart tremble.

"Foolish."

Muen faintly heard that voice once again.

"Then let’s begin."

He did not pay attention to that faint, indistinct mockery, and did not even say any more words.

He felt himself full of power.

Even knowing that clearing Pollution from even more people would increase his own consumption, for those whose fate was already decided, the best thing should have been to ignore them completely.

Although they were not heroes, and had not truly saved anything, Muen felt that they had the right to possess a hero’s... dignified exit.

...

...

In the blink of an eye, it was already deep night.

That "sacrificial ritual," which was clearly no different from summoning an Evil God, yet made people feel hope, finally came to an end.

It had succeeded.

First, using Marcie as the foundation, he had confirmed feasibility, then spread it to these Pioneers. Everything had gone just as Muen had planned.

The Pioneers still alive in the field had all already been polluted by Muen, becoming "evil believers" belonging to him. As for those who had already died... the corners of their mouths also carried satisfied smiles.

Some people were happy, dancing with joy.

Some people were sorrowful, crying bitterly.

The First Pioneer named Alan wiped his rusted sword, at a loss over the fact that he had actually still not died.

Landa held Theresa’s corpse, wanting to find him a good burial place.

...This fellow, who had still been chattering nonstop just now, was quiet at this moment like a tombstone that had already been carved long ago.

Marcie, meanwhile, was quickly writing and drawing in her record book. Too many things had happened today. She wanted to record them all.

For a time, everyone had their own thing to do.

The story concerning night and daylight had thoroughly come to a temporary end. They would no longer fear the night, nor would they blindly pursue daylight... but no matter what, life still continued, and living... also still had to continue.

Muen let out a long breath of turbid air.

He wanted to stand up, but swayed unsteadily, and for a moment actually did not succeed.

He was too weak.

First, he had been violently beaten by Miss Dragon, beaten until he hardly looked human, miserable beyond description.

Although he had obtained a drop of Miss Dragon’s blood, in order to confirm his own conjecture and plan, he had no choice but to give up using that drop of blood to heal himself. Instead, he had thoroughly ignited it to strengthen the black flames, and only because of that had he been able to last until now.

Fortunately, the Pollution bestowed by the sacrificial ritual was not merely a one-sided charity. According to the principle of "equivalent" exchange, these people’s bone and blood, flesh body, and even souls now completely belonged to Muen.

Of course, Muen would not go so far as to turn them into his slaves, but when granting Pollution, he ultimately had to take something back.

Combat aura, magic power... or physical strength.

But beyond that, he could not take too much, because what they possessed was already pitifully little to begin with.

In short, this could barely count as maintaining a fragile balance of income and expenditure, so that he was not completely squeezed dry.

"I succeeded."

Muen arrived before the divine throne and raised his head to look up at the fiery-red figure resting there with her eyes closed.

As if showing off to her, he said proudly:

"Although the last step, which is the most difficult and consumes the most, is still missing, judging from the current situation, my plan has undoubtedly gone smoothly. My Pollution covered the previous Pollution, making these people no longer corrupt and mutate. They no longer have to fear spreading that poison outward and harming the world."

"I won."

"..."

Upon the false divine throne, Hamreign propped her fragrant cheek in her hand and was taking a light nap.

She seemed to have not cared at all what Muen had done. Only when Muen came running over here all smugly to announce it to her did she slowly open her eyes.

Her golden dragon pupils were like two lit ancient brass lamps, appearing even more dazzling in the black night.

Muen did not dare meet them and hurriedly lowered his gaze.

But in his heart, he was somewhat happy.

Hmph. You beat me so hard before. Now it should be your turn for your face to hurt...

"Won?"

But suddenly, Hamreign’s cold sneer directly interrupted the complaints in Muen’s heart:

"Where exactly did you win?"