Chapter 205

Chapter 205

"The recent plague is no secret to all. As you know, quarantine is necessary, hence the military's presence outside the city."

"That doesn't justify cutting off contact between the outside world and the city!"

A voice called out from the crowd.

"Precisely because the devil is lurking within our city!" The Pope's voice boomed, overpowering the cries below.

"The devil?"

The citizens exchanged bewildered glances, while players hidden among them narrowed their eyes.

"Indeed! The devil! The Church could have cured the plague, but due to the devil's interference, the illness persists! And we've restricted communication to prevent the devil from escaping the city!" the Pope shouted. "Fellow citizens, think about it. Have you been receiving your information from those lewd magazines? Such indecency is evidence of the devil's seduction!"

The Pope's voice echoed throughout the city, nearly causing the players still in the hospital to lose their composure. The spectators in the live stream couldn't help but chuckle.

"Indeed, indeed, indeed."

"That's right. Yellow does lead to corruption. It's our fault."

"A most medieval statement. Did I time travel?"

"My lord! Times have changed!"

In the audience, the believers exchanged bewildered glances. Of course, no one dared to question the Pope directly, given the recent miracle that had just transpired.

The Pope took a deep breath. "I understand you may not believe me, but here, I will prove it to you."

With a wave of his hand, a crucifix was pushed forward from behind the platform, upon which a child was bound.

The child lifted his head, gazing coldly at the crowd below.

A commotion arose in the crowd, as many believers recognized the child.

"Yes, this is our church's Holy Son, Amos," the Pope said with a pained expression. "It is with great regret that I must announce, the Holy Son has fallen under the devil's influence."

Having said that, the Pope took a bottle of holy water from a nearby devotee and sprinkled it on Amos. The latter let out a shrill cry as the skin touched by the holy water seemed to be burned by lava, leaving red marks.

"He aided the devil, which is why we have been unable to eradicate the plague. I offer my apologies to all of you for our negligence that has prolonged this affliction. But rest assured, those inflicted with the plague who still believe in the Lord will find redemption."

"Today, we must purify the Son with this holy water. Have faith, for we trust that the Son will overcome the devil's temptation and reveal him to us all."

The Pope spoke hastily, not giving the crowd time to react. The devotees on either side were already preparing large buckets of 'holy water.'

Of course, only the Pope and a few devoted knew that these 'holy waters' actually contained sulfuric acid. It was the will of God, after all.

Fixated on Amos's expression, the Pope feared any resistance or outcry. Honestly, even the Pope himself broke into a cold sweat when he received this divine command.

To publicly condemn Amos as the 'Son of the Devil' and sentence him to the stake – the Pope dared not. This was a public spectacle. In the past, even when testing the 'immortality' of the Son and the Mother, they dared only to do so secretly. Most non-believers, not fully indoctrinated, would never accept such claims and would promptly report them to the police.

Even shallow believers, upon witnessing this, might awaken and turn against the Church.

Yet, the divine command could not be defied, so the Pope had no choice but to resort to a deceptive tactic — substituting the holy water with a corrosive liquid. With Amos's remarkable regenerative ability, as long as they were careful, no one else should notice the difference.

The devotees released Amos from his restraints, preparing to immerse him in the 'holy water.' Suddenly, a gasp of astonishment echoed through the crowd.

Seizing the opportunity, the Pope paused. The crowd below parted, revealing a bizarre figure with the face of a man and the body of a sheep, its face veiled by a white cloth, steadily advancing toward the stage.

In that moment, no words were necessary; everyone present could discern Lane's identity.

His ram's horns, his sheepish form—such an extraordinary visage left no doubt that it aligned with the world's perception of a demon.

If Lane were to remove the white cloth, revealing his goat-like horizontal pupils, it would fit the description even more.

Upon witnessing that so-called 'devils' truly existed, the Pope first felt fear, then overwhelming joy. He eagerly pointed at Lane, "It's him, he's the devil!"

The devil truly existed and had made an appearance.

The crowd below immediately erupted into screams and commotion. The devoted in the front rows fell to their knees one by one, adopting a praying posture. The believer closest to Lane even lost his footing, collapsing to the ground as he fervently begged for divine protection.

None dared to make a move against the 'devil.' It was as if the crowd had instantly transformed into sheep encountering a wolf.

Lane stepped onto the stage, each footfall echoing until he was fully exposed before the crowd, who erupted into a frenzy. Amidst the chaos, Lane approached Amos, bound to the crucifix.

As he passed the Pope, Lane paused, fixing him with an intrigued gaze. The Pope's knees buckled, and he involuntarily stumbled back, collapsing to the ground, his former authority vanished.

"A t-t-t-truly, a demon."

"Let's go, Amos," Lane sighed, stepping over the Pope. Reaching for the cross, he prepared to release Amos from his bonds.

Amos lifted his head, his gaze distant. Upon seeing Lane, a smile involuntarily curved his lips. "Lord... Lane."

That smile deepened, mirroring the eerie similarity to the deity's statue.

"You've finally come."

Lane froze, as if the surrounding space had solidified, rendering him immobile. In that instant, the seemingly vulnerable Amos lunged into his embrace, a concealed blade piercing Lane's chest.

"I knew you'd come," Judas said.

Why did Judas desire Amos so? Not just because of his significant influence on dreams, but because he was Lane's destined follower.

Amos wasn't entirely loyal to Lane, and Judas could tell. It was obvious when a subject was devoted to their lord, but Amos's lack of it indicated a rift between them.

Yet Lane had deliberately kept Amos by his side. Coupled with Amos's influence in this dream, it suggested that the young Old God intended to gain Amos's faith within this dream.

Coincidentally, Judas also needed Amos.

He pushed the blade in his hand further. Ordinary blades couldn't harm Old Gods in a dream, but not now.

If Lane had descended as a 'Demon,' then Judas had descended as a 'Holy Son.' The previous night, he had seized Amos's body while exploiting the vulnerability in his heart. It wasn't a difficult task for Judas, who had been preparing to seize the faith of God and was nearly done. All that remained was descending on Earth. In the Church of the Savior's belief, Amos was the Holy Son.

In legends, the Holy Son, Holy Spirit, and Holy Father were one. That was why Judas could so easily control Amos, and also why he needed to do so.

The Holy Son, bewitched by a demon, was eventually possessed by the Holy Father, who then killed the demon threatening humanity.

This was the new legend that Judas sought to write. He used the blade to pin Lane in place while beginning to stabilize the dream.

Ordinary Old Gods couldn't easily alter dreams, manipulate reality, or rewrite timelines without great cost—it might even consume the Old God themselves, especially in a shared dream like this, where altering such a vast reality would exceed even Judas's energy.

But it didn't matter; that was precisely why he had brought so many malevolent deities along.

Indeed, the prey was worth the effort.

Judas, observing the motionless Lane, activated his contingency plan. In a view visible only to him and Lane, the demonic tentacles invading the dream realm burst, continuously transforming into energy that solidified the dream into reality.

The skies transformed, and soon, this dream would become an immutable truth.

"Cough... Cough!" Lane's fingers twitched, mustering all his strength to break free from Judas's grasp.

Judas refocused his gaze on Lane and declared, "You can no longer escape. I have won."

Once the dream became fixed, Lane's capture would be etched into the annals of history. With this power, the demonic gods would have no further reservations. Even if it meant creating a new timeline at great cost, it would be worth it.

"Yes, I knew your goal," Lane, standing on the stage, swayed unsteadily as he smiled wryly. "If not for the bait, how could you have taken the hook so decisively?"

What did that mean? Judas furrowed his brow. Watching Lane take two steps back before collapsing to the ground, he noticed the large pool of dark red blood spreading beneath him. The stunned audience below seemed oblivious to the unfolding tragedy.

Something was amiss.

The Pope gasped for air, finally recovering his composure after the demon's fall. Rising to his feet, he addressed the crowd, "We have won! The Holy Father has descended upon the Son, assisting Him in eradicating the demon's influence. We have defeated the devil, we have achieved victory!"

Something is amiss.

Judas watched as Lane fell without resistance, wondering why he didn't rise to fight.

As Judas had anticipated, the crux of the plan relied on his forcing Lane to reveal himself, followed by Amos's ambush, severely wounding Lane. Then, they would engage in a battle before the eyes of all the believers.

Gods and demons, it was evident whom to side with. In this scenario, Judah would attain the faith of the entire city, and the dream would be forever etched at the moment when the God triumphed over the devil.

Lain would surely appear, Judah knew. He wouldn't stand idly by and watch Judah perform a miracle, winning the faith of the entire city, especially not with Amos as his hostage.

Despite the plan unfolding smoothly – or perhaps too smoothly – Judah, as an Old God himself, understood that the stab's primary objective was to pin Lain in place, preventing him from utilizing the Ark. In terms of damage inflicted, such a blow should have been insignificant to a deity.

So why wasn't he getting up?

A burst of cheers erupted from the crowd below, but those further back seemed hesitant, straining their necks to see what was happening.

A foreboding sense of dread intensified within Judah. Squatting down, he lifted Lain and removed the cloth covering his head. And at that moment, the horns atop Lain's head suddenly tumbled off.

Judas followed the trajectory of the ram's horn, his gaze fixed, rooted to the spot.

Is that... a decorative item with a ram's horn design?

He looked at Lane's face, only to find a seemingly unremarkable freckled youth, blood seeping from his chest, his complexion deathly pale, appearing on the verge of expiration.