Chapter 1042: Chapter 1044: Let It Go Like a Fart

Mo Gong grasped the air with one hand, fixing the Cicada Ancestor in mid-air.

Just as he was about to deliver the fatal blow, he sensed a mysterious and profound power emanating from the Cicada Ancestor, prompting a soft exclamation from Mo Gong.

A black force flowed in his hand, transforming into a long black knife.

The Magic Killing Method’s… Godslaying Knife!

But before striking, Mo Gong glanced at Wen Wen from afar, as if suddenly remembering something, a smile played on his lips.

The long knife in his hand brushed past the Cicada Ancestor’s wings and directly slashed out.

The Pope, who had just returned to his chamber and was about to sit down, suddenly saw a flash of black light, and his chair was split in two, falling to either side.

The Pope was on the verge of tears. Who on earth did he offend…

After delivering the slash, Mo Gong casually threw the broken body of the Cicada Ancestor away.

The body became blurry after falling a few meters, floating quietly in mid-air like a lifeless object.

At this moment, the Cicada Ancestor re-entered the interdimensional space, and only superpower users with exceptionally strong inspiration could see It, ordinary people could not.

Even if superpower users could see It, they could not touch It.

This is because Its essence is no longer in this space, not even a Catastrophe-Level Expert could touch a single hair of the Cicada Ancestor.

This is the Cicada Ancestor’s innate ability, which did not disappear even after It dropped in realm.

Mo Gong patted his hands, and said a few sentences in Wen Wen’s direction, which only Wen Wen could hear.

“Now this insect poses no threat. This ability protects It as much as it imprisons It. At least three to five years will pass before It can come out.”

“But when It does come out, It will be even stronger than now. I won’t help you then; you’ll have to deal with it yourself.”

Wen Wen understood that this was the trial Mo Gong intended for him.

But Mo Gong underestimated him. He didn’t need three to five years or even a year or half. As long as Wen Wen absorbed the strength of the Cup of Divine Blood and advanced his realm to the True Order Realm…

The Cicada Ancestor would no longer be a threat to him!

After finishing everything, Mo Gong, feeling refreshed, snapped his fingers, and the black door appeared again.

He waved at Xue Jiuyi and the Landas Ghost Shadow, and their bodies were dragged by an invisible force to the doorway. Mo Gong then reached out toward the Holy City, seemingly admiring the spectacle he created.

At this moment, the Holy City was adorned with over a dozen gigantic black crosses, and just tackling the lingering powers would require Glory Church to rack its brains.

Mo Gong then retreated into the Sanctuary with the two monsters, and the black door gradually vanished into the void.

Only then did the oppressive feeling in everyone’s hearts finally dissipate, as if a heavy stone had been lifted.

Sifumo, Ye Wen, Lin Zheyuan, and Bai Long removed the sunglasses from their eyes, unable to regain their emotions for a long time.

The battle between Mo Gong and the Cicada Ancestor had deeply shocked them and made them realize their own insignificance.

On this planet, only Catastrophe-Level Experts truly stood at the peak, while other superpower users were merely strong ordinary people to them.

However, this Catastrophe, despite his strength, had an unpredictable personality.

Why did he destroy the buildings of the Holy City? It seemed as if he had a grudge against Glory Church…

They guessed correctly; Mo Gong indeed held a grudge against Glory Church.

It would be more accurate to say Mo Gong bore a grudge against the creator behind Glory Church. He inherently disliked this creed that praised the creator, thus targeting it in numerous ways.

Every heavenly god had a significant background, and Mo Gong was no exception.

He was a demi-demon fiend, constituted by divine and fiendish parts, with the demonic element specifically related to the creator.

Thus, he harbored an innate and unquenchable hatred for the creator; his rampage in the Holy City without harming the innocent was a demonstration of his restraint.

Of course, such secrets were beyond the comprehension of Sifumo and the others, who assumed Mo Gong was part of the Black Cross.

Having closely observed the battle, Lin Zheyuan and Ye Wen found great benefit; to them, the fight for the Cup of Divine Blood seemed far less important.

Meanwhile, Wen Wen had no time for lamentation. After Mo Gong disappeared, he darted like a swimming dragon into the battlefield.

He let himself free-fall for a moment before his feet finally touched the ground.

The earlier battle between Mo Gong and the Cicada Ancestor, whose power had been funneled downward by the Old Priest’s barrier, created an abyss whose bottom was beyond sight.

When the Cicada Ancestor entered the interdimensional space, Hosta fell off from Its head and crashed heavily to the ground.

Unlike Wen Wen, Hosta had nearly depleted all his energy through merging with the Cicada Ancestor, and the energy waves that participated in here had eroded his body.

So when Hosta landed, he fell and broke a leg harshly.

He stayed quietly at the bottom of the pit, hoping Wen Wen wouldn’t notice him, but that was impossible; Wen Wen, in free fall, landed directly on Hosta’s other leg, snapping it with a crack.

“Didn’t notice anyone here while falling, sorry, haha,” Wen Wen said to Hosta without the slightest sincerity.

Hosta chuckled bitterly and fawningly said, “It’s not a problem; it’s my fault.”

Wen Wen raised an eyebrow, squatting before Hosta, surprised, “You didn’t have this attitude before, did you… got scared?”

Even an idiot would be afraid after the Holy Beast got dealt with.

Of course, Hosta didn’t say this to Wen Wen, but cautiously said, “Before, I was a presumptuous fool, not knowing the vastness of the skies, merely a frog at the bottom of a well. You’re magnanimous; let me off like a fart.”

Wen Wen scratched his chin, took out a fantasy colored mouthpiece, puffed heavily, and held his breath.

A wisp of smoke resembling Hosta floated out from behind Wen Wen, with an expression of bliss, and dissipated into the air after a couple of drifts.

Hosta opened his mouth wide, unsure of what to say.

Wen Wen fanned his hand in front of his nose, “I’ve promised to let you off like a fart, and it’s my first time releasing such a smelly one, though. Now, let’s discuss the grievance between us.”

Hosta shivered a bit, “Didn’t you say you let me off already? Why…?”

Slap!

Wen Wen slapped Hosta, “Who said that just because I let you off like a fart, I can’t give you trouble?”

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” Hosta lowly echoed.

Knowing how to adapt makes a hero, and Hosta had always known how to adapt; he understood that preserving his life was the most important now. He wouldn’t hesitate to eat whatever Wen Wen asked him to if it meant survival.