Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 649
Whatever had happened in the past, all that mattered now was resolving the crisis at hand. Jenkins tore his gaze away from the black speck in the moon. At the same moment, Liverpool’s eyes snapped open, and he beheld the god standing before him, materializing out of thin air with a black cat perched on his shoulder.
“God,” he rasped, “why must you interfere in this matter?”
His body’s grotesque transformation had twisted his voice into something no longer human.
“Hand over the mirror.”
Jenkins hadn’t opened his mouth; the message was transmitted directly into Liverpool’s mind.
He glanced down at the object in his hand, then tossed it to the god without hesitation.
“But I made no such promise... Besides, I am the God of Lies.”
The attack, however, did nothing more than obliterate the buildings below. Jenkins remained completely unharmed. He hadn't even bothered to dodge; a divine body had no reason to fear an impact of this magnitude.
“I am truly curious,” Jenkins’s voice echoed, “who gave you the courage to defy a god?”
“If fate is unjust,” Liverpool declared, “then my only choice is to rebel against the gods.”
For a fleeting moment, Jenkins felt as though he were the villain in this story, but the feeling vanished as quickly as it came.
Liverpool raised his hands high. On the ground below, the terrifying aberrations dissolved into streams of red light that flowed into his body. Simultaneously, the last glimmer of light seeping from the black speck merged with him as well. His body began to warp at a visible rate, his human form twisting into an indescribable, alien shape.
“This is no different from dying... No matter, it's too late now.”
A creature from the most ancient of ages materialized in the sky—a vast, mollusk-like being. Its writhing tentacles and immense, asymmetrical red body were an affront to the very order of creation.
It expanded steadily, and just before a tide of psychic corruption could wash over the city, Jenkins raised a hand, weaving his divine power into a barrier that sealed off the entire area.
This was accomplished by purely burning his divinity, not by combining it with his own abilities, and the consumption was therefore immense.
Jenkins wondered, gazing at the monster Liverpool had become. The answer surfaced in his mind automatically:
“A descendant of the Calamity Beast [Scarlet Ephemera]—the [Primal Blood Mollusk], a product of infecting humans with its own power.”
Just as he thought. To secure a place as a Savior, those three vampires had actually made a pact with a monster sealed away by the Overlords. Truly astonishing.
While Jenkins contemplated this, the Enchanters from the Orthodox Churches arrived on the scene. To mortal eyes, a colossal golden cube hung in the sky, imprisoning an unseeable monster and an indescribable god. A monstrous tide of blood churned within the sealed space, and the crimson moonlight made the blood in everyone's veins stir with a restless pulse.
The horrifying mollusk rose into the night sky, ascending to a position higher than the god himself. A waterfall of blood materialized from the void, cascading toward the material world below. Not even the golden barrier could stop it. No one could fathom the consequences if that bloody tide were to engulf the city.
“What on earth happened,” Jenkins mused, “to bring things to this point?”
He raised his right fist. If a god hadn't appeared tonight, these vampires would have utterly annihilated the city below. But fate always arranges for the right person, with the right tools, to be in the right place at the right time. Nolan would not last forever, but its destruction was not fated for this day.
Beneath the night sky, a lone god cloaked in pure white light faced the unstoppable crimson torrent. His robes could be seen faintly fluttering in the night wind.
No one knew what happened next. Time itself seemed to stop as that seemingly insignificant fist swung upward, and a flash of light, bright enough to cleave the heavens, shot toward the sanguine tide.
The all-freezing radiance met the tide. Amidst a chilling crackle and a holy choir that compelled men to their knees, the crashing wave front stopped dead. The tide was frozen solid in the night sky, frost creeping up the cascade of blood. The frozen wave now hung like a colossal blade, aimed directly at the mortals below.
But it would never fall. After all, a benevolent god was watching over the city.
The god retracted his fist and stood poised in the air, hands clasped behind his back. Above him, the river of blood could not advance another inch. The scene was like an ancient mural depicting a hero slaying a dragon alone—but the hero, at least, had a sword.
His Frost Punch, amplified by divine power, had unleashed a force beyond his own imagination. He was pleased. Extending his right hand again, he summoned motes of light that coalesced into a strangely shaped miner's lamp.
With a sigh, a fan of silvery-white light erupted from the lamp, sweeping upward to envelop the frozen tide and the mollusk monster. Both were locked in place, unable to move, before shattering into countless tiny components that rained from the sky. Before this dense shower of metallic fragments could hit the ground, a sourceless fire blazed up from the void, incinerating the terrible things to ash.
When it was all over, the blue moon returned to the night sky, and the black speck within the blood moon had vanished. The only thing still moving in the night was the vast cloud of ash drifting on the wind.
The whispers were gone completely, leaving only the sound of the holy choir resonating across the land. The god stood in the night sky, gazing down upon the people below.
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So many ordinary people had witnessed tonight’s events. It was bound to have a major impact on his peaceful life, and Jenkins hated having his life disrupted.
Chocolate hated it, too.
Though he had been prepared to use his divinity, creating such a massive spectacle was far beyond what he had anticipated. The real headache now was how to wrap things up. He just wanted the ordinary people of Nolan to wake up tomorrow and go about their lives as usual.
The mortals remained prostrate on the ground, not daring to look directly at the god in the sky. The night was deep, and the brief commotion hadn't drawn the attention of the entire city. The number of mortals who knew what had just happened was likely only in the hundreds.
“The Scion is dead, the aberrations are gone... Let it all end.”
He thought to himself, then chuckled softly and tapped the cat on her forehead. Spreading his arms wide, he announced to the people below in a resonant voice:
“Nothing of consequence occurred tonight. A meteor merely fell upon Nolan.”
He burned the last remnants of that drop of divinity to make it so. Fortunately, he was the God of Lies.
The Church would have to handle the rest. The power of his lie, amplified by divinity, would only affect ordinary people who possessed no spirit. Jenkins was actually quite curious to see what the aftermath would be, but right now, all he wanted was to go home and get a good night's sleep. It was all over.
The night was still deep.