The ones at the very end of the crowd were already scared witless.
All because someone had dared to utter the word Cthulhu.
To be wiped out merely for that—too real, too brutal.
Was this what passed for kindness?
Well, those who didn't speak of evil gods, who knelt immediately, did not die.
At that moment a Heavenly Venerable–class figure dropped to his knees before everyone. Even though shock rippled across the assembly and he had clearly intended to bolt through the portal, he still chose to submit.
"This beautiful goddess," he said, bowing low, "I never uttered a word, I only came here just now. If I surrender now, can I avoid death?"
Bi Yao wore a long dress the color of pale green bamboo. Hearing him, she lifted a hand to her lips and laughed softly. "See? There are people who understand the situation. Come here, then—you may yet be spared. As for those who tried to escape through the teleportation array… do they think I'm not here?"
Her voice cooled as the last word fell.
A golden light kindled in Bi Yao's eyes.
Time rewound.
Those who had fled wore the look of the newly fortunate—only to realize, too late, that they had been drawn back into Qingzhou.
"Blasphemers against God—capital crimes," Bi Yao said.
She raised her long sword and let it fall, almost lazily.
Except for those who had knelt, everyone else lay within the range of her strike.
"You dare!"
A thunderous voice exploded from the teleportation array.
Everyone froze.
Madman Wu was coming out!!!
He was the ancestor of Taiwu Tianzun.
Across Qingzhou, three sides had already been wiped clean; only Madman Wu's last remaining breath still held this quarter together.
Bi Yao regarded the figure emerging from the light and sneered. "A mere avatar. Don't parade it about. Do you take the goddesses of our Eternal Religion for fools?"
Sword-qi lanced outward.
Time stopped.
Dark sorcery, sheathing swordsmanship, descended as one upon Madman Wu's incarnation.
When time congealed and motion died, Madman Wu broke out in a cold sweat.
Where had this monster come from? Why was she so terrifying?
He frantically circulated his arts, switching positions again and again—yet the sword-qi still sank unerringly into his body.
The clone expired on the spot.
So easy.
So simple.
Like slicing through tofu.
Madman Wu's consciousness had not yet fully dispersed; he could still see the green-clad girl's eyes upon him, bright with contempt.
"Go die with your regret," Bi Yao said coolly. "And don't imagine my move ends at severing your clone. The spell will curse your soul…
"Either self-abolish right now,
or wait for a slow death."
Naturally, Madman Wu would not choose to abandon his soul. If he surrendered it, the soul would be incomplete. Then how could he ever aspire to a higher realm?
Only… was there really a curse?
He hesitated a single heartbeat—and his translucent soul was suddenly shrouded in a lattice of dense, crawling maledictions.
Bi Yao turned and walked away.
Those who had surrendered trailed after her like sheep, meek and obedient.
"No—you demon—!" Madman Wu roared.
He severed that fragment of soul and cast it off.
Demon girl?
Bi Yao's lips curved. Fine—call me what you like. I used to be a witch, after all.
She didn't look back.
This so-called Madman Wu wouldn't be leaping about for long. Under the Curse of Darkness, death would be knocking soon enough.
—
Elsewhere.
In the hidden chamber where his true body sat, Madman Wu's eyes snapped open. He let out a long breath of relief.
"What is the origin of these Eternal gods? Why are they so troublesome…"
That sword from a moment ago—he had seen time, glimpsed many things he had never seen before.
Which was greater—divine methods or godly arts?
Madman Wu did not pronounce judgment.
But vaguely, he felt it: the power of this Eternal Religion was even more terrifying than those gray creatures.
He gathered tools, preparing to repair the damage to his soul—
when a strange breath wafted from his fingertips.
He looked down.
A black spell had crawled into existence at his fingertip, writhing like ink alive.
"No… how is this possible? I severed the link to that soul!"
Fury took him; he brought a blade down and amputated the offending finger.
But though flesh parted, the soul-connection remained.
The curse continued to seep, taking the parasite as nourishment, slowly eating into his soul.
In truth, Bi Yao had lied—Extinction Black Soul Curse was not so terrible on its face. It only spread and spread.
But once its owner panicked and chose to cut off the connection—
Bi Yao had her true medium for spellcasting.
And the clone Madman Wu himself had discarded?
That was the material Bi Yao needed to cast the deeper curse.
Had he not abandoned it, had he handled the matter with care, he could have managed.
Scheming for scheming, Bi Yao outstripped Madman Wu by ten thousandfold.
It was hardly all his fault, of course. The three Goddesses of the Eternal Faith had, one after another, killed so many. Who wouldn't be afraid? Who wouldn't assume the divine curse had already fallen?
Little did he know that this had been only the prelude.
—
Qingzhou.
Silence held.
No one dared to spy upon this vast state.
No one dared to attack.
The Eternal Church had secured its first base camp.
"Well done. Your cursecraft grows more and more refined," Yao Yao said mildly. "That fool should be furious right about now, yes?"
Bi Yao darted her a pale look, chin tipped in satisfaction. After all, her swordsmanship was truly mediocre, ranked firmly near the bottom. If it ever came down to pure blade against blade, things would get… interesting.
Bai Suzhen—having absorbed the energy of millions—let out a small, satisfied burp and said to Yao Yao, "It's your turn next. I need a nap."
The Candle Dragon bloodline was mighty, yes; but after absorbing such energy, it demanded sleep.
Dragons were like that—lethargy was natural.
Yao Yao waved an indifferent hand. "Go, then. If anything comes up, I'll call you."
—
Now four—Tanjiro Kamado, Li Shimin, Murong Fu, and Chu Xuanfeng—sat along the battlements, staring out at the no-man's land.
"Next time," someone muttered, "let's not call the goddesses. It feels like we can't even show up to pick up the scraps; nothing's left warm."
"It's fine. Don't be discouraged," another said. "There are other states."
"You're all thinking too small." Murong Fu smiled, a secretive light in his eyes. "Now that the goddesses are here, shouldn't we ask for instruction? A few pointers, at least."
Tanjiro's earlier gloom lifted at once. Right—of course. With his connection to Shinobu Kocho, he could at least learn something.
So the four of them sought out the goddesses and formally requested to learn. The goddesses did not refuse. They said that when free, they would teach. The development of the religion must not be delayed.
Today, the actions of Bai Suzhen and the others had caused an immense uproar throughout the Yang Realm.
Madman Wu had taken the field—and had his clone killed.
Taiwu Tianzun had been slain hundreds of millions of miles away.
Except for the Great Cosmic powerhouses of the Mujin clan, only those who surrendered had survived.
This was no longer a simple war.
It was a question of orthodoxy.
Would the realm be swallowed by the God's path,
or would it vanish into history?
A grave question, indeed.
Everyone began drafting their own plans.
The First Mountain of rumor fell into silence.
Yao Yao's power was too formidable; though clearly of the cosmic level, it surpassed that tier by far.
"This world is truly in chaos…" a skinny old man murmured.
—
"Have you heard? Madman Wu has been cursed—he hasn't long to live."
"Don't be ridiculous. That one is invincible; if he can't win, he runs!"
"Hah… you're ignorant. Madman Wu is strong, but the Eternal Gods are stronger. Once their curse takes hold, he can only wait for death."
"What's so great about some cult?"
A retainer of a major power, overhearing the talk, snorted with disdain.
Those nearby glanced at him and immediately began to edge away.
The last man who spoke against the Eternal Faith had grass three feet high on his grave.
Truly fearless, this one—
or truly foolish.
"I think this Eternal Religion plans to swallow the heavens, don't you?"
"Looks that way. The other side's goddesses wield terrifying power. That suggests their God has already surpassed divinity, right?"
After the blowhard wandered off, the rest couldn't help but continue whispering.
Then a voice rang out beyond the square.
"Extra! Extra! After the Eternal Faith took over Qingzhou, it began recruiting disciples! As long as you believe and follow the doctrine, you can receive divine methods!"
Stunned silence.
Faces went slack with astonishment.
Good grief—handing out God's arts just like that?
People glanced at one another—and then vanished into the streets, scattering like birds. Except for spies embedded by the great powers, almost all were wanderers, unsworn and unbacked—lone rangers. Who didn't want a mighty patron? Who didn't want higher techniques?
As for those who slandered the Eternal Faith, did they treat the other factions as if they were gentlemen?
The birth of every great power was built atop countless corpses.
Madman Wu, for example—when he desired a certain inherited secret art, he exterminated an entire clan. The other factions were the same.
Eternal God—evil?
Ha. These days, whoever feeds you is your mother.
Besides—this faith offered true strength.
Countless people poured toward Qingzhou that very day. Cautious, they watched first, confirming no one was attacking pilgrims. Only then did they move in.
When they finally met the believers of the Eternal Faith, they understood: these people truly meant to spread the doctrine. They welcomed believers widely.
Join the faith—become family.
Receive cultivation methods and all you needed to rise.
The only price was sincere faith—and your own effort.
What could be easier?
Within a single day, the Eternal Church recruited one hundred thousand lone rangers, along with several small bands. The speed of expansion made jaws drop.
After they took in those 100,000, something alarming happened.
These wanderers practiced for three days—
and gained extraordinary power.
Each and every one broke through.
One man who had been stuck at the threshold of Heavenly Venerable for hundreds of years—upon receiving divine method—broke his shackles on the spot. Not only did his lifespan increase, but his internal shortcomings were exposed and purged. Foul vapors poured out of him in steady streams, like poison being drawn from a wound.
People stood, dumbfounded.
But when Chu Xuanfeng saw this, his gaze narrowed in thought. These people were all from the Yang Realm. By rights, they were not ghosts. So why did this manifestation appear?
Why did it look as if the Yang Realm's people also carried a taint within them?