Chapter 1231: 218. Wrath (IV)

“I was asking... the other Priscilla.”

Muen pinned Priscilla beneath him, both hands tightly gripping her neck as he gradually increased the pressure. Even though the body he was facing had not been used for a very long time, its former strength had once reached the level of a Crowned One. Muen had to use every ounce of his strength just to barely suppress her.

Veins bulged across his arms, and his bones creaked and groaned, but Muen still ignored everything. He allowed that incomplete [Domain] to continue crushing his body and stared into Priscilla’s eyes like a madman as he said in a low voice:

“Answer me!”

“Shut... shut up!”

Those eyes were filled with resentment and madness. The only thing surging out of them was pure rage, as though everything were merely Muen’s imagination.

But gradually, Muen felt the resistance beneath him beginning to weaken.

“Shut up... I’m not insane... I haven’t gone mad... The only thing that supported me until now... was hatred... I hate her!”

Priscilla was roaring, roaring from the depths of her soul. Every muscle in her body trembled along with her roar... because this was also the truest hatred from the deepest part of her heart.

But at the same time, a clear tear slid from the corner of her eye.

“Please save her... Please save Big Sister Dragon.”

A faint voice echoed through the room, almost impossible to hear, like someone talking in her sleep.

“All right,” Muen answered softly.

Priscilla suddenly came back to her senses, and her expression instantly twisted.

“No... This is wrong! I hate her! I want to kill her! I want her to be buried together with everyone from Tars! I... I... That weak version of me was already reduced to ashes together with that destruction... That wasn’t me!”

“How pitiful.”

Muen looked sympathetically at the woman desperately denying everything before him.

“You even lost yourself. This cruel and fucked-up world is just as hateful as ever, isn’t it?”

And yet so many people still loved it...

“Shut up!!”

Priscilla screamed:

“Muen Campbell! I will not allow you to insult me! And I will not allow you to insult the effort I have made over these eight hundred years!”

What world, what cruelty, what love... she understood none of it.

She only knew that for eight hundred whole years, hatred had been what allowed her to reach this point. How could she possibly allow the person she had become now to be denied?

Tars... had only been a dream.

Whether it had been a beautiful dream or a nightmare, it was already a dream that had vanished.

Now, she only wanted to watch that evil dragon... fall into the same hell as them!

“Die! I will never allow you to interfere! Even though you have no possibility of changing the ending, I still won’t give you even a one-in-ten-thousand chance!”

Priscilla’s eyes turned blood-red. She forcibly activated the nearly shattered, corrupted crown once again. Radiance so dim that it had almost disappeared descended and formed the Domain of Nothingness for her final desperate struggle.

Boom!

Muen’s body suddenly sank downward. His flesh split open, and blood poured from the inside out, staining his clothes red.

Even such a weak [Domain] was an unimaginable blow to him. This was the difference between levels. Even the weakest elephant could easily crush the strongest ant!

But...

“You’re nothing more than a pitiful wretch too!”

The darkness in Muen’s eyes grew deeper. The pitch-black sun hung high within his mental space, while a terrifying presence gradually spread from Muen’s physical body, as though some unimaginable existence were about to break free from the restraints of this flesh and walk out of nothingness.

Buzz...

The half-rotten crown wailed.

The radiance it released was actually forced apart for a brief moment by that presence!

Muen did not hesitate. Once again gripping Priscilla by the throat, he lifted her up and smashed her down violently.

Thunder!

The violent shock traveled through flesh and poured without reserve into her body, which had still not recovered. The ground beneath her cracked apart inch by inch and instantly turned into fine powder. If the foundation of a Crowned One had not still remained within her, this single blow would have been enough to shatter her entire body and kill her.

“No!”

But Priscilla was still struggling. She grabbed Muen’s arm, and from within her flesh, which had split open from the impact, bright radiance suddenly rose.

It seemed that at such a critical moment, she had finally become desperate enough to use the blessing of the “Goddess of Light” once again.

“Look.”

Muen tilted his head, smiling without quite smiling.

“I wasn’t wrong. You thought this was a grand revenge eight hundred years in the making? No... This is nothing more than a ridiculous performance by a few pitiful wretches being manipulated on a stage.”

In New Tars, they had once built stage after stage and performed puppet show after puppet show. Through this method, they created so-called “hunting grounds” and treated everyone in New Tars as puppets they could manipulate at will.

But they were the puppets.

Puppets who did not even realize they were being controlled and were still moved by their own performance.

There was not even anyone who would applaud them.

“The story between us, and this ridiculous play... should end now, Priscilla.”

Black flames flowed.

Naturally, the Crimson Flame that had just appeared was immediately devoured by Muen. Not only did it fail to harm him, it instead allowed him to catch his breath.

After all, he had only just gone through such a fierce battle with Harris. This close-range struggle with Priscilla was being sustained entirely by willpower. His condition was not much better than Priscilla’s.

It was even worse.

Forcibly suppressing the increasingly obvious agitation in his mind, Muen’s eyes returned to deep blue.

Only this time, his eyes no longer seemed as clear as they once had.

“Shut up... This isn’t some ridiculous play...”

Priscilla was still struggling.

“This is our revenge... The Goddess said that this is a great and righteous revenge...”

“Since you like the Goddess of Light so much, I’ll take you to meet the real one.”

Taking advantage of Priscilla’s confused assistance, Muen slammed a fist into her chest. Thunder erupted outward from her heart, directly throwing her into a brief state of paralysis.

Muen seized the opportunity to grab the anti-magic shackles and lock them around Priscilla’s wrists.

Her resistance suddenly vanished.

All of Priscilla’s power was sealed. Muen’s entire body relaxed, and he staggered before collapsing to the ground. He stared at the pitch-black ceiling and breathed heavily.

Damn it. The realm of a Crowned One was far too absurd.

He had used every method at his disposal and had only barely stopped short of calling the Black Book for help, yet fighting two heavily wounded Crowned Ones had still been this difficult.

But Muen had no time to rest for long.

He quickly rose, retrieved his storage ring from the table beside Priscilla, summoned Elizabeth, flourished the blade, and cut open Priscilla’s wrist.

Blood flowed.

Using that blood, Muen began drawing around Priscilla.

“You... What are you doing?”

Priscilla finally came back to her senses and looked in confusion at Muen, who was busy working. Her expression gradually turned terrified. Her instincts told her that this bastard was definitely doing something extremely dangerous!

“I told you. I’m helping you meet the real Goddess of Light.”

Without lifting his head, Muen concentrated fully on the work in his hands.

“Aren’t you very devout toward her? Meeting her once before you die should count as fulfilling your wish. I have always been very friendly toward women. My reputation for it is known across the entire continent. There’s no need to thank me.”

“Meet the Goddess? The real Goddess? Nonsense! I already met the real Goddess long ago! I even received her favor! The one you’re talking about is the false god. I have absolutely no idea... Wait, could it be...”

Priscilla suddenly realized what he meant and screamed:

“A sacrifice... You’re going to sacrifice me? Bastard! How dare you sacrifice me? How can you sacrifice me?”

“Why can’t I?” Muen asked in confusion.

“Aren’t you a good person? Aren’t you standing on the side of justice? Weren’t you angry because I caused the deaths of the people of New Tars? How can a good person like you do something as evil as making a sacrifice?” Priscilla asked in disbelief.

“When did I ever say I was a good person?”

Muen innocently spread his hands.

“Although I do sometimes behave a little indecisively and always feel pity for innocent people... in terms of my designated role, I’m a standard villain template. The kind who wouldn’t survive twenty pages in cheap street-stall literature.”

“Hah?”

Priscilla hissed like a cat, completely unable to understand what Muen was talking about.

What exactly was wrong with this guy?

There were the black flames he had used at the beginning that could devour the blessing of her Goddess.

There was the absurd lock-picking technique that opened three locks in one second.

And now there was the fact that he was not even a Crowned One, yet he had mounted her, a genuine Crowned One, and beaten her violently...

What in the world had happened?

Could it be that they had hidden in a place like this for so long that they had failed to notice the outside world was now filled with freaks like this in every possible sense of the word?

...Priscilla felt that ever since she met Muen, her entire worldview had been suffering violent blows every few days!

“If you don’t understand, you can go ask some destined heroine who truly represents justice and see whether she calls me a hateful bastard. That should settle it.”

Muen added the final stroke to the simple sacrificial altar outlined in blood.

He tilted his head and admired it for a moment.

Mm. Although this was his first time drawing one, it looked more or less correct.

It seemed having the Black Book record these things earlier had not been a bad decision.

There was no harm in learning another skill. It would always come in useful someday.

“Looks like you won’t have the chance to ask.”

Muen clapped his hands, and his expression gradually became solemn.

“No... Wait...”

Priscilla widened her eyes.

“I still haven’t—”

“[Prayer].”

Muen could not be bothered to continue exchanging pointless words with her and directly began praying.

“[With these bones, with this flesh, with this blood... with all that this being possesses.]”

“[To the God Who Melts the World, the Lord of the Crimson Sun, the great Withering King... I offer this sacrifice.]”

All sound vanished.

It was as though the entire world had been muted.

At the center of the simple altar, Priscilla struggled and roared, attempting to interrupt Muen’s prayer.

But every sound she produced was completely erased by an invisible force, leaving her able only to twist helplessly and wildly like a maggot performing a mime.

She stared in terror as a crimson vortex suddenly emerged from the void.

A thin, charred-black hand, as though it had just been scorched by flames, slowly reached out from within the vortex.

“What a nostalgic sight.”

Muen murmured inwardly, feeling somewhat emotional.

Then, beneath Priscilla’s gaze as though she were looking at a madman, he directly reached out...

And enthusiastically shook the charred-black hand.

...

“Whew—”

A scorching wave of air rushed toward him, carrying the burnt stench of something that had been incinerated and a nauseatingly dense smell of blood.

Muen slowly opened his eyes.

Compared with the thrilling sensation from before, as though he had ridden a roller coaster ten times in succession, he appeared much calmer this time.

He was no longer the person he had once been.

Therefore, when he saw that endless expanse of crimson earth, there was not much disturbance in his heart.

“Wh-Where is this?”

Priscilla, on the other side, was nowhere near as emotionally stable.

She collapsed onto soil that had been dried until not a trace of moisture remained and struggled to crawl backward, seemingly trying to escape.

But there was nothing here except endless crimson earth.

Where could she possibly run?

“This is where your beloved Goddess of Light resides...”

Muen shrugged.

“Didn’t I just tell you?”

“You’re lying!”

Priscilla roared, but her voice was already fierce only on the surface and trembled uncontrollably.

She raised her head and looked upward.

“My Goddess... This isn’t my Goddess... How could my Goddess possibly look like this? Impossible!”

“How rude.”

Muen sighed.

“Brother Wither is so adorable. How can you say she looks like some kind of monster? At the very least... she looks far more mighty and domineering than that little Love bastard who intercepted your faith.”

Above the barren and infertile endless crimson earth, an enormous spherical object floated silently.

Its entire body burned with raging Crimson Flame, but its presence was far weaker than when Muen had first seen it.

That was because countless withered, charred-black hands were closed around it, perfectly enveloping it.

Muen inwardly said, Just as expected.

The Withering King was still asleep.

Its current appearance was like a little girl who had eaten and drunk her fill before curling up to sleep...

Muen actually found it slightly adorable.

“Damn it. Have I seen so many Evil Gods that my sense of beauty has become distorted?”

Muen quickly slapped himself and drove that strange thought out of his mind.

Then came the question.

Judging from the current situation, ever since the Withering King had devoured most of the Silent Moon, its activity on the continent had drastically decreased. Even its Evil God cultists had become extremely rare.

It had remained asleep all this time and had not awakened even now.

But even while asleep, how could the mighty Withering King possibly allow another Evil God to approach it?

Especially a disgrace among Evil Gods like the Love God?

“Could it really be sleeping so deeply and defenselessly that even a small-time loser like the Love God could casually steal part of its power?”

Muen rubbed his chin.

Some bold ideas suddenly emerged in his mind.

If the Love God could do it, then perhaps he could also...

Rustle.

The sound of pages turning rang out.

Because of Miss Dragon, the Black Book, which had lacked any sense of presence for a very long time, finally appeared.

Perhaps frightened by Muen’s suicidal thought, crimson words appeared on its pages with unusual speed:

[Before the Church of Life sealed away the overwhelming majority of faith, answering every sincere request was a fundamental operating rule of gods.]

“Hm? What does that mean?”

The Black Book’s words left Muen confused.

What did it mean that the Church of Life had sealed away the overwhelming majority of faith?

And what did it mean that answering every sincere request was a fundamental operating rule of gods?

Could it be...

“You mean... Evil Gods are gods too, so even when they fall asleep, certain rules continue operating automatically? For example... as long as someone sincerely prays to one of them, they will inevitably receive a response?”

[Yes.]

“Ah, no!”

Beside him, as though verifying the Black Book’s statement, Priscilla began screaming and struggling.

An enormous charred-black hand emerged from the crimson earth and reached directly toward her.

She struggled desperately and wailed in agony...

But it was all useless.

She could only be grasped within the charred-black hand and thrown into the embrace of the “Goddess” she had once devoutly worshiped.

Whoosh.

Crimson Flame swept over her.

Priscilla was quickly burned to ashes, together with her final screams.

Even her end was just as ridiculous as her revenge.

Then the hand reached toward Muen.

A fingertip extended, and a cluster of Crimson Flame flickered upon it.

Muen instinctively reached out and accepted that cluster of flame.

The familiar sensation left him momentarily dazed.

He raised his head.

The Withering King remained curled up...

No, it remained asleep there, without the slightest movement.

The visit of a tiny ant like him apparently would not directly awaken it.

“So that’s how it works...”

At that moment, Muen finally understood how the Love God had obtained Brother Wither’s power.

It did not need to risk approaching Brother Wither at all.

It only needed to deceive some people into praying to Brother Wither and then intercept the power exchanged through those prayers halfway.

Afterward, it could happily use that power to deceive even more people...

In any case, Brother Wither, the wronged party, had never awakened. During this period, the Love God, transformed into the blond interloper, could play however it pleased.

“What a clever scheme...”

The corner of Muen’s mouth twitched.

He had to admit, it truly matched that bastard’s way of doing things.

But...

“Prayer...”

“Interception...”

“Cuckolding...”

“The sleeping Withering King...”

Muen looked at the sleeping Evil God.

After thinking for a moment, he suddenly clapped his hands excitedly.

“I’ve got an idea too!”