Chapter 368: Feeding the Believers with Flesh and Blood

The Harbor Guard across the way was cheering, loudly chanting the Prince’s name and praising their Grand Duke William.

No one noticed that inside the giant pit, changes were slowly taking place.

The scattered flesh and blood, which had already begun to collapse, suddenly stopped. Then, under the guidance of some will, they gradually gathered together.

The Followers of the Mother Goddess surged out from every corner. It was unclear whether they had followed the Compassionate Mother here, or if they had been hiding in this place from the very beginning.

They rushed forward like starving masses about to die of hunger, grabbing chunks of the Compassionate Mother’s flesh and stuffing them desperately into their mouths, swallowing directly. Sometimes they even crammed in more before the first bite had been swallowed.

Like a swarm of famished ghouls.

They kept shoving the Compassionate Mother’s flesh into their mouths until their bellies swelled up like balloons, larger and larger—until they burst open with a bang.

A mass of the Compassionate Mother’s flesh exploded, scattering everywhere. The collapsed, lifeless flesh that poured out of their bodies once again began to writhe, as though it had come alive.

More and more Followers of the Mother Goddess appeared. They knelt on the ground, devouring the flesh. The ones behind climbed over the ones in front, layer after layer filling the great pit in the ground.

The Compassionate Mother was feeding her believers with flesh and blood.

The bellies of the believers exploded one after another. Very soon, their blood ran dry, and they collapsed into the Compassionate Mother’s flesh. Yet on their faces was a look of bliss, as though they had eaten their fill and now rested like children in their mother’s embrace.

The men of the Harbor Guard gradually noticed the change. They stopped cheering, joy still lingering on their faces, but before it could fade, terror replaced it.

The Compassionate Mother had been on the verge of death. Yet with the endless stream of believers collapsing upon her, the flesh within the pit grew more and more vibrant.

Slowly, the pit began to heave, as though stirred by a breeze. Soon ripples appeared, growing violent, until they surged into waves like a tsunami crashing toward the shore!

Fed by countless believers, the Compassionate Mother once more revived within the flesh. This time, her eyes blazed with hateful fury!

And above her head, a figure slowly rose.

She seemed to stand up from a mass of glue, most of her body still fused with the Compassionate Mother’s flesh. Though her features were twisted and grotesque, many still cried out in shock:

“Mira!?”

It was the High Priestess of the Life Mother Church—Mira.

During the last rebellion of the Mother Church, she had been the ringleader, yet this time she had never shown herself.

Now, with the Compassionate Mother slain, she rose from the reviving flesh of the goddess!

And not only Mira—on the Compassionate Mother’s body, where limbs had once grown sporadically, now faces began to emerge between those limbs.

Thin, emaciated faces—faces of the starving masses. They were the Followers of the Mother Goddess who had willingly sacrificed themselves. Now, the Compassionate Mother brought them back for vengeance.

Mira opened her eyes and gazed down upon the world.

She wanted to speak, but her mouth was sealed shut by flesh, sewn together with fine stitches. No sound could escape.

Two trails of blood-tears trickled from her eyes. Hatred, fury, regret, sorrow—emotions as molten as lava poured out with the blood.

The Compassionate Mother stood up.

She was larger than ever before. No longer just a mountain of piled flesh and a grotesque abomination—now she bore some faint resemblance to a human form.

Countless faces stared in all directions. Countless eyes blazed with wrath. She was like a god descending into the mortal world, come only for vengeance, to cleanse the filth of the earth.

The battlefield fell silent. The Prince, the Harbor Guard, the Holy Guard, the extraordinary beings—none spoke. They stared blankly at the scene, as though they were gazing upon the world’s end.

Yes—apocalypse.

No knowledge of the supernatural was needed. At just a glance of that colossal body, brimming with power, everyone knew—the monster before them was far stronger than the mountain of flesh from before.

And that mountain had already required the Prince’s cavalry and the Holy Guard working together, kite-fighting just to restrain it. To fight such a thing head-on?

Who could fight a mountain head-on?

Now, the Prince’s forces were at the end of their strength. The Harbor Guard had prepared no battle formation at all, being tasked only with hauling firearm powder. The Holy Guard had already run out of bullets.

And a gun without bullets—what difference was it from a stick?

Yet the Compassionate Mother was stronger than ever. She had put aside all mercy.

No words were needed, no threats uttered. Despair spread silently in every heart.

“Retreat at once! I will cover you!!” Granny’s voice rang out. At her side appeared countless silhouettes, scattering and rushing toward the Compassionate Mother.

Her face instantly paled. She swayed, gasping heavily just to stay on her feet. The shadows around her surged forward at the goddess.

On the other side, Galahad drew his longsword without hesitation, stepping before the Prince.

“Your Highness, I will cover your retreat!”

The Prince nodded, turned, and ran a few steps. Yet his eyes reddened, and he stopped where he was. The man who had always been so decisive now hesitated.

Chaos broke out among the Harbor Guard. Some scattered in panic, fleeing blindly. Others tried to move toward the Prince. But most only stood trembling where they were, frozen in terror.

The Holy Guards turned to Kyle. Their captain’s face shifted through countless emotions before he forced out the words through clenched teeth:

“We… retreat!”

He was the commander of the Holy Guard. The lives he carried on his shoulders were not just his own. He could not allow Granny’s sacrifice to be in vain.

He had to lead the Holy Guard back. That was his duty!

But in the end, it was all only their delusion.

The Compassionate Mother stood in place and casually swept an arm.

Granny’s countless shadows shattered at once, as fragile as cobwebs in a storm. Galahad raised his sword in defense, but he too was struck flying, weapon and all, disappearing who knew where.

And many Harbor Guards who had been standing too close were crushed underfoot, like ants upon a millstone, leaving behind nothing but red pulp.

Both forces together had not lasted even a moment.

The Compassionate Mother had swung with only one hand. She still had another free.

The Harbor Guard was scattered. She reached out, stretching her massive hand toward the Holy Guard.

Kyle looked up at the giant hand descending from the sky. He had led the Holy Guard through countless battles, and with a single glance, he knew—

There was no avoiding it.

Granny’s rush had been but a heartbeat ago. The Compassionate Mother’s two-handed strike followed with almost no delay.

“Scatter!”

Kyle shouted the command as he instinctively tried to dodge. He knew it was impossible, but he resolved to struggle until the very last instant. And then—

As expected, there was no avoiding it.

Watching the hand grow larger and larger above him, Kyle sighed in despair within his heart.

Just as he was about to face death head-on, the massive hand suddenly halted.

Like a volcanic eruption, a storm of bullets rained down from afar, pounding upon the enormous hand. The full force of the heretical god’s strike was forced back!