absurd deduction game.

West of Yolikev, in the silent hills, hidden within caves.

Screams, the cracking of bones, the tearing of flesh and blood mingled with the incessant wailing of the twin infants. Qu Xianqing, holding the blood sword, leaped lightly, crouched behind a boulder, and wiped the wound on her face that had been cut by the infants' shrill cries.

The church procession, which originally consisted of more than fifty people, now has fewer than twenty people still standing.

Dark red blood soaked the ground around the altar, mixing with the congealed filth and emitting a nauseating, sweet-smelling stench.

Limbs and severed arms were scattered everywhere. The horrified and distorted faces of some young guards before their deaths were frozen in time, their eyes still showing extreme fear of that indescribable horror.

"Hold on! Form a formation! May the Mother Goddess protect you!"

Herbert the Deacon's hoarse roar echoed through the cave, and the hideous scar on his face looked even more terrifying as it became engorged with blood.

The holy emblem in his hand burst forth with an unprecedentedly brilliant golden light, like a solid barrier, barely resisting the evil pressure that surged in like a tangible tsunami.

But the gap is just too big.

"Ugh—!"

A young guard standing on the flank suddenly let out a howl that was not human. He dropped the standard longsword that was emitting a faint white light and clutched his head tightly with both hands.

Dark red blood mixed with a grayish-white viscous substance gushed out from between his fingers—his eyeballs exploded under the immense mental shock!
Immediately afterwards, he lunged at his companion beside him, opened his mouth to reveal his gleaming white teeth, and began to bite like a wild beast, as if to vent all the madness and fear that had been forcibly crammed into his mind.

"He's corrupted! Purify him!" A seasoned middle-aged guard, with tears in his eyes, plunged his spear into his comrade's heart without hesitation.

The corrupted guard convulsed and collapsed, but his face bore a strange, relieved smile.

This is the terrifying aspect of the conjoined twin ghost infants—the vessel of an evil god.

Its four pure black eyes, devoid of whites, are windows leading to the abyss of madness. Merely meeting its gaze, or being swept by its invisible and intangible yet seemingly soul-piercing shriek, will cause those with weak wills to instantly suffer a mental breakdown, either dying with blood flowing from their seven orifices or transforming into a mad demon who only knows how to kill.

Not long ago, the altar trap was triggered, and the conjoined twin-headed ghost infant suddenly descended. Even with the "archbishop" present, most of the church members were overwhelmed by the evil god's aura at the first moment, bleeding from all seven orifices on the spot, or beginning to undergo strange changes and become mentally deranged.

How can humanity fight against evil gods?

Only righteous gods can drive out evil gods!
Therefore, the more devout the deacon is to the Mother Goddess and the more blessings he receives from her, the more power he has to resist the demon infant.

The "Archbishop" single-handedly used his magic to bind the ghost infant within the altar's perimeter, facing the strongest corruption head-on and shielding his companions from most of the calamity. He himself was also restricted to the spot, unable to move—at least that's how it appeared on the surface.

The remaining people watched in fury as their companions fell one by one, yet they could only barely fight the ghost infant.

At this moment, the ghostly infant hovered above the altar, its two bluish-black heads simultaneously emitting piercing cries. The sound waves were like countless cold needles, piercing everyone's eardrums and souls.

Its enormous body, a mixture of severed limbs, internal organs, and tentacles, writhed continuously. With each wriggle, invisible spiritual tentacles lashed outwards like whips, moving at a speed too fast for the naked eye to perceive.

"Holy Light, protect the mind of your Lamb!" A female deacon raised her hands and chanted a prayer. Soft, golden light, with the illusory image of ears of wheat, spread out from her, forming a small area of ​​protection.

The guards within range immediately felt the frenzied whispers in their minds lessen considerably, and, panting heavily, gripped their weapons tightly again.

This is the only reliance against the oppressive power of this evil god—the holy light transformed from unwavering faith in the Mother Goddess of Harvest.

Most of the deacons could cast various divine spells imbued with the Mother Goddess's grace, such as condensing a shield of holy light, summoning thorny vines with purifying power to entangle and restrict the ghost infant's movements, or sprinkling a rain of light containing the breath of life to barely heal the wounds on the injured person's body that were being eroded and rotting by the filthy power.

Ordinary guards, unable to cast complex divine spells, could only infuse their faith into their weapons and armor, causing their blades and shields to glow with a thin, yet crucial, white light.

It was this layer of white light that prevented them from being torn apart like paper when facing the invisible spiritual attacks of the ghost infant.

They formed a tight battle formation, their shields linked together, like a lone boat swaying in a storm, constantly thrusting their enchanted spears through the gaps, trying to leave wounds on the twisted flesh, but with little effect.

"This can't go on!" Deacon Herbert parried a slashing spiritual tentacle. The immense force made his arm go numb, and the shield of holy light he was holding trembled.

He looked anxiously at the archbishop, only to find that the archbishop was focused on fighting against the aura of the evil god, his eyes closed and his expression pained. He was powerless to lend a helping hand, so he turned his head back to look at the strange core in the center of the altar that was constantly emitting a pale light, and the lower half of the ghost infant above the core that was almost integrated with the energy of the altar.

"It hasn't fully descended yet! Its power originates from the altar!" Another old deacon, skilled in perception, shouted hoarsely, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes gleamed with a pale golden light as he forcefully analyzed the connection between the ghost infant and the altar. "We must destroy the core of the altar! Otherwise, we will all be worn down here, and even the Mother Goddess's grace cannot withstand this level of defilement for long!"

His words awakened everyone.

Yes, this monster seems to possess endless power, and its soul-piercing pressure and cries are constantly consuming everyone's spirit and faith.

More than 60% of their companions have fallen, and the rest are all injured and on the verge of mental collapse.

If its source of power cannot be cut off, destruction is only a matter of time.

"All deacons who can still move! Follow me and charge the altar! Guards, form a protective array to cover us! For the glory of the Mother Goddess!" A resolute glint flashed in Deacon Herbert's eyes. He knew all too well what charging the core of the altar meant—it would inevitably subject him to the most frenzied attacks from the ghost infant, a near-certain death.

But this is the only way to survive, and it is also their duty as believers in the Mother Goddess.

The remaining deacons unleashed their strongest holy light, like golden arrows, fearlessly charging towards the writhing altar that exuded ominousness and despair.

The surviving guards let out a tragic roar, slamming their shields heavily to the ground. With their bodies and the last glimmer of their faith, they formed a fragile yet steadfast defensive line to meet the increasingly ferocious two-headed infant demon, whose core was threatened.

Inside the cave, golden holy light clashed violently with pale, filthy power, as faith and madness engaged in a final, desperate struggle.

Qu Xianqing, however, was paddling and remained crouched behind the boulder, observing the situation from the sidelines.

To be honest, from the perspective of the original inhabitants of the instance, the investigator's resistance to the aura of the evil god was not as good as that of the church members, so no one wanted her to be at the forefront. In fact, when they saw that she was in good condition, they felt relieved.

Then, he stopped paying attention to her and rushed toward the altar. The remaining holy light flickered like a candle in the wind, struggling to shine amidst the filthy turmoil.

Deacon Herbert was covered in blood, his left arm twisted unnaturally, but he paid no attention to it, his eyes fixed on the pale, pulsating core in the center of the altar, which resembled a deformed heart.

"For Yorikef! For Mother Goddess!" he roared like a beast, pouring all the remaining holy light into the warhammer in his hand. The warhammer shone like a miniature sun, and with an unstoppable momentum, it smashed fiercely into the core of the altar!

At the same time, the other two deacons who were still able to move also launched a desperate attack.

One person summoned grapevines burning with golden flames, which wrapped around the core like chains, while the other pressed his hands to the ground, causing sharp, glowing roots to grow from the ground and pierce the bottom of the altar!
"Whoaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"

The two-headed ghost infant let out an unprecedented, piercing cry, a mixture of anger and pain!
It sensed a deadly threat, its massive body twisted violently, and a terrifying pollution suddenly enveloped the entire cave. Countless spiritual tentacles, like wildly growing thorns, swarmed towards Herbert and his companions, attempting to crush them.

The guards standing around were furious. They used their bodies to brace against the shields and pushed their meager holy light to its limit, trying to buy the deacons that precious moment.

"Pfft!"

"Crack!"

The sounds of sharp blades piercing flesh and bones shattering rang out in rapid succession.

Another guard was pierced through the chest by a tentacle, and another man's head exploded like a watermelon, instantly tearing a huge hole in the defensive line!

At this critical moment, Qu Xianqing moved.

Her figure almost transformed into a streak of blood, arriving before Herbert the moment she appeared.

Facing the dense spiritual tentacles that could tear apart even steel, she remained expressionless, without even a flicker of emotion in her eyes. The longsword in her hand, formed from her own blood, burst forth with thick, bloody light, unleashing a simple yet powerful strike in all directions.

"Sizzle sizzle sizzle—!"

The blood-red light collided with the pale, spiritual tentacles, producing a sickeningly corrosive sound.

In this brief encounter, the evil god's vessel was surprisingly shorter, and the polluted aura quickly dissolved in the blood-red light, only to be replenished in less than a second.

Qu Xianqing moved with unpredictable steps, each swing of her sword precisely striking the most crucial point, using skill to overcome force, and forcefully opening a brief passage for Herbert behind her!

Large swaths of pollution brushed against her body, leaving deep, bone-revealing wounds on her arms and waist, from which dark red blood immediately gushed out, staining her clothes.

However, she didn't even frown, and reminded the shocked deacons and guards, "Move forward quickly!"

They realized what was happening and immediately rushed forward.

Just as Herbert's Holy Light Warhammer was about to strike the core, another anomaly occurred!

The shadow beside the altar began to writhe like a living thing, instantly coalescing into a figure shrouded in a wide black robe.

The figure appeared without warning, as if it were one with the shadows, its entire body hidden under a black robe, making it impossible to see any facial features, or even whether it was male or female.

A chaotic and evil aura spread silently, echoing the ghost infant, making it almost instantly clear that the figure and the ghost infant were connected—it was this figure who summoned the evil god's aura through the ghost infant's body!
Herbert roared, "High Priest Frodo! I knew it would be you! If it weren't for you, Yorickf wouldn't be in this predicament today!"

The high priest of the esoteric religion... didn't even glance at Herbert, but simply raised a hand covered by a black robe.

In an instant, countless twisted black runes made of pure, foul energy appeared out of thin air and shot towards Herbert's back like locusts, their foul aura terrifying.

Qu Xianqing's pupils contracted almost imperceptibly, then he flew over, and the corners of his lips finally curled up:
"I've been waiting for you."

Her voice was cold and clear. Faced with the terrifying attack that was enough to turn Herbert into a monster, she did not hesitate to take the initiative to meet it.

The blood sword hummed in her hand, its blade seemingly coming to life. The flowing blood transformed into a ferocious blood python, carrying a sharpness that could tear everything apart and an eerie aura that could devour everything, as it crashed fiercely into the black runes!
"Boom——!"

Crimson and black clashed violently in mid-air, without a deafening roar, only the sound of energy annihilation that sent chills down one's spine.

The dissipating energy shockwave sent several nearby guards flying, crashing into the cave walls, their fate unknown.

Seeing this, Herbert gritted his teeth and seized the opportunity while Qu Xianqing was facing the high priest to destroy the altar.

Qu Xianqing stood with her sword in hand, blocking the high priest between the altar and the altar. The wound on her arm had reopened during the collision, and more blood gushed out, dripping from her fingertips and corroding small pits in the ground. But her hand holding the sword was as steady as a rock, and her eyes calmly watched the unknowable being beneath the black robe.

The high priest seemed to tilt his head slightly, "looking" at Qu Xianqing.

Beneath the black robe, it seemed as if two even deeper shadows were watching her.

Without a word, the battle erupted instantly.

The high priest's attacks were unpredictable, sometimes transforming into mind-corroding whispers, and at other times summoning writhing shadow tentacles that coiled from all directions. The source of his power seemed inexhaustible, ever-changing, and filled with the essence of blasphemy and chaos.

Qu Xianqing observed the high priest, who was appearing before everyone for the first time, and deliberately slowed down her attack frequency. With each clash of weapons and each collision of energy, she was sensing and analyzing the complex and powerful nature of the high priest's strength.

interesting.

This high priest, whom I have never met, seems to be connected to several different evil gods. His face, hidden under his hood, is completely dark and cannot be seen. His abilities are also quite formidable.

Interestingly, perhaps because this instance is based on the element of counters, originating from [He], the High Priest's attacks often bear a striking resemblance to Zhao Yijiu's shadow control. For Qu Xianqing, familiar with Zhao Yijiu, dealing with the High Priest was as easy as taking a mock exam. (End of Chapter)