Holy Son, Are You for Real?

Enrold Town. Four o'clock in the afternoon, headquarters of the Church of the Earth's Core. The fervor of the believers and townsfolk had not waned in the slightest. People singing and dancing could be seen everywhere in the streets, and free eggs were still being handed out. To ensure every resident received their share of the egg giveaway—and to prove the archbishop's words were no lie—cultists drove trucks from door to door delivering eggs. They also announced that a celebratory performance would be held at headquarters at eight o'clock tonight, during which new converts would be invited to tour the Holy Gate. The underworld truly existed. The Church of the Earth's Core had found a passage to that subterranean realm right here in Enrold Town, and this passage belonged to every devout believer. Everyone would be able to worship the Lord of the Void up close and receive divine blessings. In addition, souvenirs personally consecrated by the archbishop would be given away free of charge—limited supply, first come, first served. That had been the original plan. But with the archbishop and four bishops abruptly departing, the ordinary members lacked the authority to take charge. Seeing that the gathering had no host, they had no choice but to invite the mayor and other dignitaries to take the stage one after another to deliver speeches. *Thump, thump!* A rhythm like a heartbeat sounded—faint, almost imperceptible, yet echoing with unmistakable clarity in everyone's ears. The ordinary townsfolk noticed nothing unusual, and most cultists were equally bewildered. Only a handful of core members knew what this signified. The King of the Underworld had awakened! Their faces flushed with excitement, yet they were also puzzled by the schedule being moved up. Desperate to find a bishop-level superior to take control, they buzzed around the assembly square like headless flies. The mayor, who was in the middle of his speech, heard the sound as well. He clearly knew something; the corners of his mouth curved up slightly as he continued his address in an even louder, more impassioned voice. Right then, a wisp of yellow dust drifted past his eyes. Just as confusion struck him, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion crashed over his mind. His eyes shut, and he dropped dead asleep on the spot. Yellow smoke billowed up from all directions—from gardens, from fountains. A sudden gust swept through, and the great trees around the plaza rustled loudly, shaking loose dense plumes of yellow smoke. Wherever the smoke reached, townsfolk and cultists alike were overcome by drowsiness, instinctively settling into comfortable positions to sleep on the ground. The wind grew stronger, dispersing and expanding the pollen until it blanketed the entire sky over the town. Apart from five peripheral cultists dressed in the church's robes, virtually everyone had fallen asleep. These five made their way to the center of the assembly square, cleared an open patch of ground, and began painting an array with magical pigment. They hailed from Paris, Frank—mages of the Church of Nature. Isabella had infiltrated the cult's lair and unearthed a vital piece of intelligence. It was precious—precious enough for Xifei to pry open Londan's closed inner circle of power, allowing an outsider like her to shatter their clique and force an opening. Isabella had promptly contacted Xifei, who, to avoid startling the enemy, urgently requisitioned personnel from Paris. Xifei arranged for five trustworthy subordinates to slip into Enrold Town under strict secrecy, tasked with ensuring Isabella's mission went off without a hitch. The arrival of these five mages greatly alleviated Isabella's burden. Their job was to protect the townsfolk and keep the entire town from being slaughtered into fodder for the Lord of the Void's spirit. The chicken farm, the church headquarters, and the civic administration hall—the moment the King of the Underworld issued its summons, blue pillars of light rose simultaneously from all three locations. Immediately after, the beam at headquarters split into four, corresponding to four standalone buildings. The four beams stretched out in four directions, resonating from afar with the pillars rising from the chicken farm and the civic administration hall. A hexagram took shape, projecting a hexagram magic array hundreds of meters into the sky. A colossal phantom tentacle reached downward toward Enrold Town below. Touching the four elemental substances in the air, the tentacle condensed into solid form. As it slowly descended, it emanated a rhythmic call vibrant with the pulse of life. This was part of the King of the Underworld's physical form. It was calling out to its other half trapped in the subterranean abyss, while also summoning its children to awake. Catastrophe loomed. No one would escape parasitization. Experienced and unflinching, the five mages drew their magic array without haste. Four took positions at the corners while one stood at the center, pitting a cross star against the hexagram. Stationed at the assembly square of the church headquarters, they stood right in the center between the four buildings. Their magic array interfered with the projected hexagram array, not only binding the tentacle in the sky so it could not descend, but also cutting off the fusion between the two parts of the King of the Underworld's body. Its greatest effect was severing the King's summons. The eggs remained just eggs; the hundreds of thousands—or millions—of parasites were kept in a deep slumber, unable to hatch into the King's spawn. High above, the tentacle struggled and thrashed. Down in the subterranean abyss, the other tentacle was repeatedly charred by explosive flames, severing its own appendages again and again to survive. If nothing went wrong, the townsfolk were safe. Just then, staggered figures began to stand up. Cultists clad in coarse white robes marched toward the five mages with heavy footsteps. Their eyes were a dull grayish-white, dark-blue veins bulged across their necks, tentacles squirmed inside their mouths, and their arms reached forward in mindless grasping motions. The parasites inside these cultists had awakened long ago—a contingency left behind by Archbishop Yvon just in case. If the plan proceeded smoothly, this core force of the church would serve as spiritual rations for the Lord of the Void alongside the townsfolk. If things went awry, they would mutate spontaneously and launch suicidal charges against any disruptors. They drew near, and then— *Boom!* The five mages did not even blink. Before the self-destructing cultists could close the distance, thick vines burst from the ground, dragging the mindless unfortunates beneath the soil. There was no saving them; all that could be done was to grant them a quick end. A rough count suggested around three hundred cultists had been duped into dying pointlessly by Archbishop Yvon. They were among the earliest worshippers of the Lord of the Void, and the most devout. *** At a mansion villa far from town. Several black sedans pulled up before the gates. Two bishops stepped out of their vehicles and, flanked by cultists, pressed the doorbell. Kent and Melville were high-ranking members of the Church of the Earth's Core. Looking through the tall iron railing gate at the absurdly opulent mansion and sprawling lawn, a sour pang of envy toward the filthy rich rose in their chests. *No wonder the Holy Son strayed. With a house like this and a garden like that, anyone would lose their way in life!* (x2) If even two high-ranking figures were filled with jealousy, the ordinary cultists were beside themselves. The doorbell rang several times. The only response the two bishops received came from a loudspeaker behind the gate: "The master of the house is out today and receiving no guests. If you have urgent business, please make an appointment in advance. Private property is inviolable; please show respect and do not trespass." "Unauthorized intruders should be prepared to pay with their lives. You only have one life; please cherish it." "Note: this is not a warning!" The loudspeaker looped butler Fra's voice, delivering the fiercest warning in the gentlest possible tone. The two bishops exchanged glances. The Holy Son was not an easy man to deal with; he seemed to have known they were coming and simply shut his doors to them. They found themselves in a difficult spot. They did not want to offend the Holy Son, but they dared not disobey the Lord of the Void's decree either. One of them instructed a cultist to climb the iron railing and deliver a message. "Tell the Holy Son we come with utmost respect, and harbor no intention of trespassing on his private—" *Bang!* The cultist had barely scaled the top of the gate when a sudden gunshot rang out. A gaping hole opened in his chest, and he dropped back to the ground without a word. A light drizzle began to fall, misting the white robes of the crowd. The two bishops' eyelids twitched wildly, while the surrounding cultists went pale with fright, falling back in droves lest they be the next ones sent over the wall. *Holy Son, are you for real?* (x2) *We're on your side!* (x2) Just as the two bishops hesitated over whether to withdraw, a hexagram array flared to life above Enrold Town, and a gigantic tentacle descended from the heavens, threatening to crush the town to rubble. "We can't wait any longer! The ritual has already begun, and we must bring the Holy Son back right now. If we fail to carry out the Lord of the Void's orders, we'll both be punished," Kent said through gritted teeth. Melville nodded and waved his hand, ordering everyone into the cars to breach the estate by force. With that, he and Kent ducked behind the stone pillars on either side of the gate to shield themselves. *Wait, you two aren't leading the charge?!* (xN) The cultists blinked, not moving a muscle for a long moment. One of them spoke up timidly: "Bishop, they have guns. A sniper rifle, even." *What are you panicking for? It's just one sniper rifle! There are plenty of you—charging all at once, he couldn't possibly kill you all!* *How do you expect to serve the Lord of the Void if you're so terrified of dying?!* Unable to stomach any more hesitation, both bishops began silently chanting an incantation. Linking with the parasites inside the cultists, they turned them into infected thralls and sent them on a suicide charge against the gate. With a deafening crash, the iron railing gate groaned and collapsed. Shrapnel from the explosion battered the loudspeaker hidden in the grass, its voice cutting in and out: "You only have one life... please cherish..." "Note..." "This is not a warning!"