CHAPTER 189: CHAPTER 185: THE GOD OF DECAY (1)

In a room flooded with light, held a person. Someone untouched by time and unaware of their surroundings.

They remained on the floor, staring at the blank ceiling, which, like everything else in the room, was flooded in white light simulating a white dwarf star.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, prompting the alien to get up in annoyance. As he did, a virtual screen appeared before him.

[Incoming FTL narrow-band transmission.]

[Origin: E-4b (also known as Earth).]

[Sent from: Ship bridge, designation: 12-LN-Q.]

[Topic: Unknown Slip jump residue traced.]

"...this darn planet keeps giving me a headache," the alien grumbled, using his all three fingers to swipe the screen.

Earth.

Once a backwater planet no one cared about had now turned into a taboo existence. The higher-ups ignored its existence, while those in the lower ranks never bothered to learn about it unless they were assigned to the area.

Even among those sent to monitor the planet, they were told to do so from the orbit of another planet. A planet they had destroyed long ago called M-4b, also called Mars.

The alien had been a part of that expedition and hence was assigned to do the same to Earth. Unfortunately, the residents of Earth were more resilient than those Martians.

The ships that got close to the planet were never seen again. Usually, the Collective would erase such an existence, but it seemed the higher-ups were more interested in monitoring it than erasing it.

This made the alien’s job more difficult as he was supposed to ruin the planet without interacting with it. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

In the end, he was relegated as an observer, not the ordinary ones like before. His job wasn’t to just observe Earth but everything within its solar system. It was as if the higher-ups were looking for something, or in this case, someone.

"An insect who baffled us into passiveness," the alien shook his head, proceeding to read the report.

[In the wake of the grand disaster that unfolded on Planet E-4b roughly one-Earth year ago, the team has found traces of slip jump dated around the same period.]

[From the initial investigation, it seems to be a high-class transport ship. Their destination remains unknown at this point in time. Requesting logistic support to trace the remnants.]

The alien sighed and rolled his eyes. An earth-year wasn’t a big time period for them, however, it would be impossible to trace the ship now. By the time they went around checking for remnant energy, the ships would have performed such jumps a dozen times.

While the data confirmed his theory of the undead leader leaving the planet, the confirmation was simply too late. There was nothing they could do about it now.

Moreover, if he were to report the findings to the higher-ups, they would rebuke him for not finding the traces sooner. It would be a lose-lose situation for him.

Obviously, I can’t have that. But I can’t leave it be either.

He quickly typed a response and sent it off to the team, telling them to directly report it to his boss. That way, the boss would rebuke them for being slow, removing him from taking any responsibility.

Problem solved.

***

At the same time, on an unknown planet.

A tribe was celebrating its bountiful harvest. Farms were filled with lush green crops. Their stables were filled with animals both to feast upon and to use for transportation, agriculture, and whatnot.

It was as good as their lives could get, all because a god had graced them with his presence.

With him, the god brought miracles they hadn’t seen before. He gave them knowledge to farm and tame animals. He gave them weapons to defend and conquer other tribes. He made them who they were.

All for a small sacrifice.

A sacrifice for the greater good. One that ensured the tribe remained undefeated, unconquered by anyone other than the god himself.

With a successful harvest, it was time to once again perform a sacrifice, to send a chosen one into the embrace of the god.

"T’Kila, rejoice!" Su’li, the priest of the God of Decay, smiled as he entered a small hut. "Your son will become the seed for the tribe to bloom and grow again!"

The weak-looking man nodded hastily, not daring to meet the priest’s eyes. While the boy’s mother bathed him, grooming him one last time. Her tears fell into the bathwater, mixing with it.

The boy, a young adult, knew very well what was going on. Those who went to embrace the god never returned. The shaman said it was because they had achieved divinity and had become divine.

However, that couldn’t be further from the truth. The boy had overheard people saying that while their tribe flourished, the other tribes were plagued by diseases. Someone even told tales of witnessing their rotting corpses move.

Although people talked about it, none ever dared to speak of such tales before the shaman. Before the god’s arrival, their tribe’s shaman was merely a role. He had no power, no respect.

It was only after the then chieftain angered the god and died that people turned towards the shaman. Overnight, he went from a nobody to the strongest among the tribe.

Through Su’li, the tribe’s belief in the God of Decay grew. The more they believed in the god, the more Su’li took advantage of them.

The boy knew that very well, because Su’li had used his authority to marry the boy’s promised one, his fiancee, if you’d call it that.

The boy wasn’t the only one who had had such a thing happen to him. Many others faced the same, and under God’s protection, they couldn’t do anything to him.

After all, if he died and something unfortunate happened to the tribe, then the murderers would be sacrificed to satiate the god for their heresy.

I won’t let that stop me...

The boy thought, clenching his fists.

I, Mishka, will slay the god and claim everything for myself!