CHAPTER 121: CHAPTER 121: ABERRATION_1

"You’re saying these candles are actually made from human blood and flesh?"

"That’s right. Lighting the Blood Candles makes it easier for us to draw the gaze of the gods and become more likely to be their chosen and receive Blessings."

The police chief might have relaxed somewhat, or perhaps, as he spoke, he got carried away, unconsciously immersing himself in his own world, recounting these details as if boasting. For example, there weren’t just six sacrificed girls, but eight. One was caught outside of town, and another was lured there by her parents, who had become Heretics. He also described how they utilized the sacrifices, explaining that, in their eyes, feasting on the flesh and blood of the offerings was a way to gain strength and become younger...

Lance’s hands were also stained with blood from this period; if he hadn’t killed a hundred, he’d certainly killed eighty. He considered himself a hardened man. Yet, upon hearing of their desecration of corpses, a natural disgust welled up in him, only to be instantly replaced by surging rage.

What kind of vile heretical practices were these? No wonder the Church cracked down so harshly on these evil cults! These anti-human fiends must be dealt with severely!

Seeing this man still rambling, clearly brainwashed by the evil cult, Lance thought, Damn it, I can’t stand this anymore!

He directly punched the police chief in the belly.

The police chief, who had been speaking animatedly, was struck by this sudden punch so hard that he doubled over in agony. He felt as if the blow would have made him explode if not for the thick layer of fat on his belly.

"I told you to say something useful! Are you asking for a beating, spewing this bullshit?!"

Lance clenched his fist, looking as if he’d throw another punch at the slightest provocation. This terrified the police chief so much that he ignored the severe pain in his stomach and hastily begged for mercy.

"Don’t hit me, sir! If you want to know something, please, just ask!"

"Damn it! Are you teaching me how to do my job?" Lance wasn’t about to indulge him, lifting his hand for another punch.

These few punches made him vomit bile, and one could see the greasy features on his face contorting together.

"What I want to know is how you communicate with those people. What methods do you use? Are there any secret codes?"

The Ascension Sect had stopped using Missionaries to preach and recruit followers, which cut off the police chief’s means of finding them. However, they surely must have retained a way to contact him. The meeting arrangements and secret codes here were exactly what Lance needed.

"’When the stars return to their places, flesh shall achieve Ascension.’ They said someone would use this phrase to find me," the police chief hurriedly spoke, terrified that another punch might land on him.

"Who else knows about these things? Is there anyone designated to meet with you?"

"No, they only told me, and they didn’t specify who would come to meet with me."

"Good..." Lance’s voice drawled. He fell silent for a moment before turning back. "Is there anything else you’d like to add? If not, I’ll send you to an absolutely safe place."

"Nothing more! Nothing more!" Hearing he was safe, the police chief’s contorted expression immediately changed to one of joy. These punches were worth it, he thought.

But the next second, he saw Lance produce a Longsword out of thin air, causing him to struggle frantically.

"Didn’t you say you’d let me go? You promised me, you can’t do this!"

"Sorry, you overestimated my promise." Lance grinned. "I’ve always been a bit amoral, you see."

The words had barely left his lips when the Longsword thrust straight into the police chief’s heart, pinning him to the sacrificial altar.

"AH!" Intense pain struck the police chief’s brain. More than the pain, he was engulfed by the bitter rage of betrayal. In the agony and anger of impending death, at this moment, he seemed to see...

Lance furrowed his brow. He had originally intended for the man to die slowly in agony, to give these anti-human Heretics a taste of suffering. But before the police chief had shrieked more than twice, he suddenly fell silent. His lips began to move rapidly, producing tones that distinctly did not belong to a normal human being.

And in the two seconds Lance was momentarily distracted, the police chief suddenly raised his head. His eyes had completely lost their human color and were now entirely blood-red.

He’s clearly gained some mysterious power! Lance wasn’t foolish. How could he just stand by and watch the police chief transform? He immediately drew his Longsword and swung, intending to behead him.

However, the police chief exerted strength, wrenching his hands free. He even tore the entire wooden altar to which he’d been pinned and hurled it toward Lance.

Lance had no choice but to swing his Longsword to deflect it, but in doing so, he missed his last chance to strike.

The next second, he witnessed an incredibly bizarre scene: not a single drop of blood flowed from the wound in the police chief’s chest. In fact, it was healing at a rate visible to the naked eye.

"Humans are weak... Flesh to Ascension..."

Mad ramblings escaped the police chief’s lips as his flesh twisted under the influence of some unknown power. Blood vessels beneath his skin began to swell and bulge, converging over his heart to form a grotesque, fleshy tumor. Something seemed to be gestating within it, exhibiting a heart-like pulsation, while uneven protrusions emerged from its surface.

The grotesque transformation continued, but Lance knew he couldn’t let it proceed. He charged forward with his Longsword again.

As he drew near, the tumor on the police chief’s chest presented a terrifying sight: all the protrusions split open like eyelids, revealing complete black eyeballs nestled within. They rolled wildly, staring directly at him. These eyeballs seemed to possess some soul-stealing power; a single glance could evoke indescribable terror and despair.

But Lance was no ordinary man. He could feel that eerie power, but he shrugged it off. His Longsword didn’t falter in the slightest; if anything, he put even more force into his movements.

"Fiend! Taste my Longsword!"

By this time, the police chief had become a monster retaining only a vaguely human form. Its outer flesh was completely mutated and twisted. Its right hand had transformed into a tentacle bristling with fang-like spikes, while its left hand was now covered in a chitinous shell resembling a crab’s.

When faced with Lance’s oncoming Longsword, it used its chitinous left hand to block the Sword Blade. The impact sent a powerful recoil through Lance’s arm; he had failed to sever the hand. Instead, his Longsword was blocked.

The monster’s reaction was even quicker than Lance’s; or perhaps, its hands moved simultaneously. The instant its left hand blocked the Longsword, its other hand, the tentacle covered in spikes, swept towards Lance.

If that thing hits me, without any armor, my skin will definitely be torn open and my flesh mangled!

But Lance was no ordinary man. He reacted in an instant, putting his strength into another swing of his Longsword.

The Sword Blade and the spikes collided with a rhythmic CLANG, and as it dragged across, it still managed to cut the tentacle, ripping open a wound.

As long as it can be wounded, I can definitely finish this thing off! Lance was absolutely confident. But the next second, his movements faltered, and his brow furrowed slightly.

Because in the blink of an eye, the wound he had just inflicted healed within the space of a single breath.