Magical Girl's Knight Brother

Chapter 595 Praying to God

Scáthach could "see" that as time reversed and the pollution dissipated, a faint, yet resentful and unwilling gray mist was emanating from Desk, drifting towards the tavern as if it were alive, merging into the "pleasure" behind the door.

"What the hell is this thing..." Tang Zijun asked, frowning.

Just moments ago, the instant he and Scáthach stepped into the city, they felt a mental shock. In the few chaotic seconds they spent trying to calm themselves and identify the source of the shock, a sudden change occurred. Desk, who had been following behind them, his face ashen, gripping his scimitar and trembling, seemed to have had his last line of defense completely shattered by the shock. His cloudy eyes widened suddenly, his pupils dilated and unfocused, and the fear on his face was instantly replaced by a strange, fanatical obsession. A stiff and exaggerated smile, completely unlike his usual self, spread across his lips, and he made an unintelligible "hoarse" sound from his throat.

Then, the old mercenary, who had been terrified just a moment ago, suddenly became like a puppet being pulled by invisible threads, staggering and running wildly towards a certain direction deep in the city—the very place that Scáthach had locked onto and where the mental impact was most intense.

That speed was not like that of someone who had been terrified; it was more like someone fleeing from some deadly temptation.

Tang Zijun instinctively wanted to chase after him and pull him back. For an ordinary person with no supernatural power to run around in such a place was no different from suicide. However, a cold and powerful hand covered in dark blue armor silently but firmly pressed on Tang Zijun's shoulder, stopping his movement.

It was Scáthach.

Scáthach didn't look at him; her deep purple eyes, like the most precise scanner, were fixed on Desk's stumbling yet purposeful figure rushing into the darkness. Her voice, still cold and clear, came through the helmet.

"Let him go."

Tang Zijun instantly understood what Scáthach meant.

At this moment, Desk, who is completely corrupted by the pollution and rushing towards the source like a puppet, is like the perfect living detector and bait. He can directly "touch" the core operation of the evil god's power, and may even draw out its main body or key mechanism.

Even if he fails or encounters some danger, there are two gods to protect him.

Even if Tang Zijun's time manipulation power couldn't reverse the mental corruption Desk had suffered, Scáthach was fully capable of preserving his soul. She could then take him to the Shadow World for a spin, and he'd emerge as a hero again. Hearing Tang Zijun's question, Scáthach came to his side and whispered, "Crawling Delight." The name itself carried an unsettling, sticky quality.

Scáthach continued without pausing, revealing the origins of this terrifying being in her ethereal voice. "It is one of the Great Old Ones, not a god in the traditional sense, but an older, more chaotic being. Its essence is the condensation of 'flesh and blood evil' rooted in the darkest, most primal abyss of the human heart. Initially, it was secretly worshipped by some corrupt and degenerate druids, who regarded it as a 'mentor' for the twisted evolution of flesh and life. Later, its corruption spread outward like a plague."

She seemed to recall some extremely distant scenes.

"Its true form... is indescribable. If one were to force a description, it would be an eyeball so enormous it could fill a palace, enveloped in countless layers of pulsating, sticky 'fuzz'." "That eyeball itself is a vortex of madness, a source of blasphemy. The mere pleasure emanating from its very existence is enough to plunge any mortal life into an endless madness, willingly twisting its own flesh and blood to become its blind, fanatical servant."

Scáthach paused, his tone unusually serious.

"It is extremely difficult to completely destroy. In the distant past, it once fought against the evil god Set of ancient Egypt. However, even with Set's full strength, he could only severely injure it and could not completely eliminate it. The gods paid a considerable price to seal it away."

At this point, Scáthach's purplish-red gaze turned to Tang Zijun beside her. "Perhaps you're more familiar with its other name." Tang Zijun was still immersed in the shocking description of the giant, furry eyeball and how it withstood Set's attack head-on, and was startled by Scáthach's words. "What do you mean?" Scáthach's voice was clear and cold as she uttered three words:

"The Blood God".

"Huh?!" Tang Zijun was struck as if by an invisible lightning bolt, her eyes widening suddenly beneath her helmet.

God of Blood.

He knew that name all too well.

Just six months ago, he personally led the mercenary group leader, Gloriand, and the man before him, Desk, who had just transformed back from a monster, to besiege the cultist entrenched deep in the mine. That madman used blood to draw blasphemous magic circles, and fanatically called upon and served... wasn't that the Blood God who claimed to grant them "eternal life of flesh and blood" and "eternal pleasure"? At the time, they destroyed the entire mine, thinking they had only eliminated an evil cult that was harming the area. Little did they expect that the cultist was connected to such a fundamental Great Old One who was so close to them.

"So...it was it!" Tang Zijun's voice carried a hint of belated realization and chill.

The mad rituals of the mining cultists, their twisted worship of flesh and blood, their pursuit of distorted evolution—all these nauseating acts now have a source: this writhing, pleasurable creature whose form resembles a giant, hairy eyeball, the ancient ruler who calls himself the God of Blood.

Its power has permeated the mines and been embraced by cultists. Now, a portion of its power lies dormant in this Crimson Maple Dead City, using the illusory tavern to prey on those unfortunate enough to stumble upon it, like Desk, drawing upon their fear, despair, and twisted flesh.

Tang Zijun's gaze returned to the oak barrel tavern. This time, the warm light emanating from it no longer seemed tempting to him, but rather the gaping, ravenous maw of the terrifying Old One, filled with sharp teeth. "It seems I truly have a 'fate' with this 'God of Blood,'" Tang Zijun's voice, piercing through his mask, was as cold as an Arctic wind. "But how did it end up here? Didn't the gods seal it away?"

"It must be because of divine blood." Scáthach frowned, her gaze sweeping around. "Back then, the gods sealed it away using the power of laws. As the gods' power gradually weakens, the constraints of the laws are also beginning to diminish. This guy was probably summoned by its followers and followed that god all the way here."

"The flesh and blood of a god... even a god with remnants of divine power would be enough to grant it unparalleled strength. If we don't find that god soon, things might get complicated." Although Scáthach made it sound complicated, her expression didn't change. Clearly, this snail-like creature wasn't powerful enough to make her feel troubled. However, Tang Zijun was different. Scáthach was a detached person.

Or you could say it's aloofness.

Although she has experienced a lot and has now given up her divine power, to be honest, the pride of a god is still in her heart. She has no feelings for ordinary people, and can even be described as ruthless, as can be seen from the wasteland.

But Tang Zijun was different. Although he knew he was a god, he never really considered himself one. To him, gods were just a group of powerful humans. Why put himself in such a high position every day? Wasn't that tiring?

Scáthach could disregard the safety of others, but Tang Zijun could not. Crimson Maple City was too close to Black City, separated only by the Ghost Mist Forest. If this monster truly escaped using the flesh and blood of a god, its next step would be to head towards Black City or the front lines of the River Basin.

Thinking of this, Tang Zijun didn't waste any words. With a single slash, he split the tavern in two.

A jagged gash cleaved the building, revealing the true scene inside: rotting tables and chairs, a blood-soaked floor, and lifeless wooden structures. "That thing's power has receded," Scáthach said calmly, then narrowed her eyes. "If its power still lingers here, it means it hasn't captured that god yet. We have to get there before it." "But the atmosphere here is too chaotic; I can no longer smell that god's scent," Tang Zijun frowned.

"It's alright, there's more than one way to find a god." Scáthach slowly shifted her gaze to Desk, who was slumped on the ground, still not recovered. "Desk, I'm afraid we'll need your help."

"...Huff...Huff..." Desk was breathing slightly, and upon hearing Scáthach's voice, he slowly raised his head. "You...you said..." "I want you to pray, not to me, nor to any particular god, but to all the gods who can hear your voice," Scáthach said earnestly.

"As long as your heart is sincere enough, it will be enough to help us find the location of that deity."