Prayer

The world had changed. Scarcely anyone could deny it. Ever since that crimson star rose above the firmament and the Enemy of God established himself as king in Limbo, nothing was as it once was. The peaceful daily cycle was broken, never to return. No matter how many times Tiancheng insisted that the demons were trivial, a mere skin-deep itch, calling on everyone to hold fast to their faith, their words could no longer achieve the effect they once had. So the Order shifted its narrative once more. The scripture received another update, adding a chapter of Revelation and framing everything as a trial from God. Blessed are the living beings of the earth, for the day of the Heavenly Kingdom's descent is near. As long as they surmounted this final ordeal, the day would come when the holy hosts of the Heavenly Kingdom would wage the decisive battle against the forces of Hell. So long as the faithful proved the devotion within their hearts, they could draw close to God and enter the Realm of Ultimate Bliss forever, savoring boundless joy. When this explanation emerged, countless believers wept tears of joy, summoned their spirits, and began preparing to battle demons from that day forth. Unfortunately, distant water could not quench present thirst—nor could a distant pie in the sky. Even with all its might, the Order could not eliminate the Enemy of God far off in Limbo, nor could it pacify the chaos now plaguing the mortal realm. The days of peace and tranquility were gone. Honey no longer flowed through the rivers, and fig trees bore no fruit. Someone had kicked over the trash can of the Pure Land, unleashing a blowout of chaos. Once the disorder of all the dreams was let loose, the previously plain, blank world was painted in a riot of colors, churning endlessly beneath various forces. Chaotic celestial phenomena and frequent earthquakes had already overrun the world outside the parishes. The Order strained with all its might, barely able to maintain a semblance of stability within parish borders. Accompanied by rains of blood, thunderclaps, and plagues of flies, more and more bizarre occurrences cropped up without pause. One day, the mountains outside the city were suddenly covered in blooming flowers, but when the petals withered, what sprang from the buds was an endless stream of toads; Crawling serpents and bugs spoke with human voices, and shattered stone gargoyles burst into ringing song... Members of the transport teams said that along their routes, they often stumbled upon strange villages not marked on any map. The villagers were genial and welcoming, even inviting them to stay permanently, but once departed, those places could never be found again. Others saw a grand, sprawling metropolis in the deepest depths of the fog, yet after pursuing it for ages, they found not a single trace, and the searchers themselves mysteriously vanished in plain sight of everyone. Scenes utterly inexplicable by common sense were unfolding in every corner of the world. As a massive volume of anomalies converged and shifted, many bizarre domains came into being, faintly spreading further outward. Once the chaos suppressed for decades began to erupt, it was like pus welling up from the skin, near impossible to eradicate or cure. Not only did the disorder spread outside the cities, but bizarre occurrences also struck frequently within the central metropolis itself. Inside the Central Sanctuary, the Hierophant on night watch encountered believers who came to confess and pray late at night several days in a row, not uttering a word and turning to leave the moment their prayers concluded. At first, the Hierophant paid it no mind, but soon he noticed that more and more faithful came for midnight prayers. In the end, when he dozed off and opened his eyes one day, he found every inch of the sanctuary packed with layered silhouettes—countless numbers of them. Yet despite the multitude, aside from deep murmurs and muttered prayers, there was no other sound at all. The Hierophant fled with a shriek, but the figures did not pursue. Only pair after pair of hollow eyes quietly watched him leave. From that day on, no more believers arrived in the dead of night, yet the night-watch Hierophant grew increasingly mad, arguing and scuffling daily with people who did not exist, until one day after being locked away, he abruptly vanished. Thereafter, word spread from sanctuaries everywhere that often, in the dead of night, a Hierophant would come to pray... Other believers joined a mutual aid society with a harmonious atmosphere where everyone supported one another to improve together, only to discover weeks later that the society was not registered with the Order at all, and the friends within it had never existed in the first place. Countless strange rumors and ghost stories spread through word of mouth. At times, it was almost impossible to tell whether the person beside you was truly alive. Besides, was the person telling the story even human? Despite plainly being in a dream, hauntings erupted everywhere. With Tianyuan falling into disarray, bizarre happenings proliferated endlessly. Yet the Holy God, the only one capable of bringing order back to it all, remained utterly unmoved. Consequently, many believers gradually realized that the illusion called déjà vu was growing stronger. Familiar scenes and phrases recurred constantly, and they seemed able, through their own consciousness, to faintly and in limited ways stir this reality—the twisted order following the return of chaos. Awakening became easier, yet weaker, and just as uncontrollable. Everything was reminding them that none of this was reality. They lived in a dream. A dream with no end in sight— The moment they truly grasped this reality, despair and doubt sprouted silently in their hearts. When they turned back to look at the sanctuary behind them, holding fast to their faith was no longer possible. To say nothing of those who had harbored doubts from the start. Human nature was fundamentally drawn to strength and inclined to pursue power. Once the devil proved his might and Hell proved its worth and meaning, the steady stream of faith converging toward Limbo was proof enough. Beyond that came vast amounts of resentment, hatred, and even fury. But it did not matter. God might abandon you, but Hell would not. Knock upon the gates, and none would be turned away. Torrents of curses and faith surged day and night, stirring the chaotic dreamscape until a gray, somber expanse covering thousands of li formed across the land. Those tangled curses and grudges settled in the air, preventing anything from growing. Gloomy clouds shrouded the sky, blotting out sun and sky alike, while hellfire gushed from the chasm at the center of the earth, repeatedly sowing malice across the mortal realm. With Limbo actively surfacing and the pull of these curses and faith, Limbo had gradually drawn close to the Pure Land, even tearing open a fissure called the 'Scar' that wrapped around the divine kingdom. A veritable demon realm manifested from within the divine kingdom. If one lay at the edge of the Scar's fissure and peered downward, one would see an endless hell of steel, where colossal machines towering like buildings operated without end, ringing with perpetual clatter and roar. Molten lava flowed like rivers, converging from all directions toward the center. In the end, all the flames of Limbo, all the faith and curses, poured into the mountain-sized Crucible right at the heart. Dust drifted down like rain as demons with steel wings took flight and landed continuously. Those unrepentant believers were confined to workshop after workshop, laboring in agony under daily torture from whips and electric shocks. Even more surviving angels were hurled whole into the furnace; amid their wails, they melted into molten iron, cast into steel plates and weapons one after another... Sharpening weapons and feeding warhorses, sleeping on spears awaiting dawn. Without disguising its ambition or plans in the least, the entirety of Limbo had become a gargantuan armory. Demons tempered and forged arms day in and day out, thirsting to march upon the divine kingdom and trample Tiancheng beneath their feet! When the sluice gates crashed open, vats of molten steel poured down, gathering like brilliant rivers along the channels and pouring into molds. Before long, glowing red steel that had yet to cool fully was hauled up by chains, hauled and shifted amid the blare of horns and whistles, finally coming to rest upon the previous layer of smoldering armor. Layer upon layer, like fish scales. The instant the chains decoupled, the silent behemoth slowly lifted its mountain-like head. The Styx Dragon! No longer bearing its former twisted shape, its body completely stripped of flesh and blood, the great dragon turned entirely to steel shifted its frame. Amid the screech of grinding metal, it shook off the layer of oxidation on its scorching armor, scattering fine black ash like rain. A soul-shaking roar abruptly erupted. The dragon of steel snarled, unfurling its wings. Scores of vector engine thrusters all across its body blasted out searing brilliance. At the very front of the launch pad, a demon waved a flag, signaling the area was cleared. Immediately after, a tempest surged. Accelerating in mid-sprint, the dragon took flight, broad wings spreading as it rose from the Scar's chasm and soared into the sky, wheeling excitedly between the gloomy heavens and earth. Toward distant Tiancheng, it let loose a contemptuous roar. "Look at that drive, isn't it spirited?" Inside the workshop, Ji Jue looked up, glancing at that speck of red light playing in the distance. "Isis, hand me—" Before the words finished, he paused slightly. Only then did he realize Isis wasn't here. With a twinge of frustration, a Quicksilver hand rose and passed him a tool. Without the assistance of a workshop spirit, Ji Jue could only handle everything himself. To avoid hassle, he had pulled Chunjun out of his soul once more, separately assembling an enormous spiritus crossfire array to boost its multitasking capabilities. All he could say was that a small knife could never comfortably do the heavy lifting of a cart. Though their coordination remained seamless, he was restricted at every turn. What a miserable way to live. He clicked his tongue and resumed his work, hearing a knock at the door. Bao Dachai. After lying low for a while, the old codger had popped up again, clutching that serpent-like hat in his arms. Like a raven turned spirit, nothing good ever came out of his mouth. "Bad news," the old codger said with a smirk. "The Order just rolled out another update. The base layer of the Huangliang dreamscape got patched quite a bit. Your previous trick for killing people has been neutralized and blocked." "Doesn't matter. If I really want to kill someone, I have plenty of ways. Besides, doesn't that help avoid wasting materials? Let them block it. Destruction is always easier than maintenance. I'd like to see how long Tiancheng can keep its balance." Ji Jue maintained the weapon in his hand, his eyes narrowing as his brow slowly furrowed. "I have some bad news here too. Care to hear it?" Bao Dachai poked his head forward, puzzled and blank. His gaze fell upon the spear in Ji Jue's hands. The weapon crafted earlier for Wen Wen: four-ridged spiral tip, heavy and sturdy shaft. For a spear so compact, it weighed several tons; aside from Wen Wen, hardly anyone could swing it around like a blade of grass. In all fairness, from a design perspective, even if this weapon could not be called flawless, it certainly qualified as a rare masterpiece, not to mention its perfect synergy with Wen Wen. Sufficiently heavy, and at the same time, sufficiently tough and solid. Through Fluid Alchemy, Ji Jue had used internal spiritus to drive external matter through an insane series of cycles until the spear's material neared the upper limit permitted by the dreamscape—virtually indestructible. Only in this way could it be guaranteed that Wen Wen wouldn't shatter it or damage it easily. As for destructive power—it didn't need destructive power. It only needed to ensure it could siphon the divine power from the enemy and knock them back to their original form. After that, it was time for true damage. All the design choices ultimately guaranteed that Wen Wen would face no equal in a frontal brawl. Aside from that, during subsequent upgrades, Ji Jue had incorporated a few little features into the weapon, such as— The 'coating' specifically applied to the spearhead earlier as a precaution against the true body of the Holy God descending. A poison made against impure faith, and at the same time, a medicine to help one recover reason from chaos and loss of control. It drew upon the principles of the old codger's Wedge, but went a step further, even integrating parts of the Dissociation Art. As long as spiritus was infused, it could continuously generate concussive shocks; upon a moment's contact, it would seek out every fissure on a spirit body, dismantling it from the inside out. For ordinary people, it would cause nothing more than dizziness or shock, lacking lethal force. But for the Holy God, who had absorbed countless disparate self-natures, no matter how much he purified them, what wasn't his would never truly be his. The foundation of Ascension was built upon the 'self.' Likewise, no matter how powerful 'I' became, one could never absorb other 'selves' to achieve infinite growth. Otherwise, everyone could just crowdfund souls and become gods directly—why go through so much trouble? This was an attempt and a specialized countermeasure targeted at the Holy God. As long as it struck, the shock would directly strip away a massive amount of self-nature that did not belong to him, knocking him back to his original form! Yet the problem was— "It didn't work." Ji Jue set the spear down, wiped his hands, and told the old codger, "When facing the Shadow of the Holy God, Sister Wen's weapon did create a moment of chaos, but it produced no substantive effect. "There was an effect, but it wasn't strong enough." Bao Dachai fell silent, his expression gradually turning grim. That meant the premise of the plan was flawed. The Holy God had absorbed so much self-nature and faith, yet hadn't applied it to himself—then what was he doing right now? Where had so much self-nature and faith gone? What state was he currently in? No one knew. "We lack too many conditions and data points." Bao Dachai pinched the bridge of his nose. "Looks like we need to rethink this from scratch." He was starting to regret coming by with bad news just to watch the drama. In the process of watching, he'd landed himself a seat at the table. And now he bloody well had to work overtime. Fortunately, the overtime didn't last long—there was another knock at the door. Yu Shu. "A lot of people have gathered outside," Yu Shu reported. "Ever since Limbo surfaced, large numbers of believers from the Pure Land have been heading toward the fissure. There are also many sinners who were previously tortured in Limbo who want to see you, Mr. Ji. "They look pious enough that it doesn't seem faked." "Then take them in and deal with them as appropriate, can't you?" Ji Jue asked, puzzled. "Is there a problem?" "Everything else is fine." Yu Shu hesitated for a moment before reporting, "It's just that their demand is a bit..." "They're negotiating terms?" Ji Jue was amused. "I'm not as generous as the Holy God. I don't have a Realm of Ultimate Bliss to bestow upon them." "No, they don't want any rewards. In fact, they want to offer all their possessions to us." Yu Shu went quiet for a moment, letting out a silent sigh. "They just heard the rumors about you, and they want to ask you for a favor." Ji Jue went quiet, looking over. Listening. "They... those people want you to kill them." Head lowered, Yu Shu stammered out the words. "They want to die." Outside the workshop, amid the roar of the furnaces, sounds of prayer and pleading echoed, rising and falling in waves. A dense crowd lay prostrate in the ash, hollow, numb faces rising and falling with their prostrations as they prayed without end. Worshiping the devil. With a devotion surpassing any piety toward God. Praying for death.