absurd deduction game.

The ordinary residents in the prayer hall were completely unaware when the first wave of ritual vibrations swept across the church.

At 6:03 p.m., the clock had just struck its sixth chime, and no one paid attention to the lingering sound echoing under the stone dome.

They stood or sat, talking in hushed tones. The rich were already preoccupied with business collaborations and art appreciation, while the poor gazed at the statue of the Mother Goddess, imagining the dinner that would soon be distributed.

The nuns and deacons were scattered around, maintaining basic order, their faces bearing a professional gentleness—though beneath this gentleness, many of them had an undisguised tension in their eyes.

Because they know that the esoteric Buddhist ritual of summoning the gods takes place today.

Just then, the third ripple of energy, saturated with pollution, arrived.

As if someone had tapped the inside of each person's skull with a cold hammer, the hall fell silent instantly.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stopped talking, their faces blank. They didn't know what had happened, but they felt a tightness in their chests, as if something was gripping them.

The air became thick, making it a little difficult to breathe.

The lights seemed to dim a bit, but the shadows on the walls stretched longer and deeper.

An elderly woman sitting on a bench was the first to show signs of distress.

Her body trembled violently. She raised her head, her eyes staring straight ahead, her pupils dilated, and fine blood vessels appeared on the whites of her eyes. Her mouth opened, and she let out a "hoarse...hoarse..." sound as she inhaled.

The rosary beads in her hand fell to the ground, and the ears of wheat scattered.

"Mother?" Her middle-aged daughter quickly helped her up. "What's wrong?"

The old woman did not answer.

She stared into the void, her lips trembling, and began to mutter to herself, "Chaos...crawling on the wall...crawling in the eyes..."

The sound was very soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the deathly silent hall.

Then, one by one, the symptoms of pollution appeared.

A young man suddenly jumped up from his chair, covered his head with his hands, and screamed, "Don't come any closer! Don't come any closer! I was wrong! I shouldn't have taken that money—"

He frantically scratched his face, his fingernails drawing blood from his skin. People around him tried to restrain him, but he forcefully pushed them away with astonishing strength.

In the corner, a little girl of seven or eight years old began to cry hysterically, gasping for breath. She pointed to the wall: "Red... there's blood on the wall... Mommy, there's blood on the wall..."

In the direction she pointed, the wall was intact, its white plaster surface gleaming softly under the gaslight.

But more and more people are beginning to see illusions.

Some saw the ceiling melting, dripping black slime. Some saw the faces around them turn into rotting corpses, revealing stark white bones. Some heard whispers in their ears, uttering blasphemous sentences in an incomprehensible language. Some smelled a strong stench of decay, like dead rats fermenting in a corner for days.

Panic spread like a plague.

People began screaming, shoving, and trying to run away; benches were knocked over, prayer books were scattered everywhere, and nuns and deacons tried to maintain order, but they themselves were also affected—

The contamination from the ancient gods was beyond the ability of these low- to mid-level clergy to resist.

A young nun knelt on the ground, burying her face in her hands, tears streaming down her face, and kept saying, "Mother God, save me... Mother God, save me..."

The situation began to spiral out of control.

Zeng Lai stood in the center of the hall, his brows furrowed.

He could feel the fluctuation, which was filthy, chaotic, and carried a strong spiritual pollution. Ordinary people, without any protection, would inevitably experience hallucinations and mental breakdowns if they were directly impacted. However, the soul strength and resistance of the deducer were far superior to those of ordinary people. He just felt a little nauseous, as if he had stuffed extremely rotten food into his mouth.

He looked toward the pulpit.

The fake archbishop, Tian, ​​was still standing there, a barely perceptible smile playing on his lips as he suppressed his excitement and maintained his archbishop persona.

"Quiet! Everyone, quiet!" Tian raised her voice, trying to drown out the chaotic noise. "Don't panic, hold fast to your faith, Mother Goddess will protect us!"

But her voice was insignificant amidst the screams and cries of hundreds of people.

Just then, with a clang, a bell rang again from somewhere.

Golden light began to emanate from within the walls covered in white plaster, a warm, mellow light carrying the fragrance of grains descending upon the chaos.

Light seeped from deep within the walls, bathing the entire hall in a pale gold hue, and wheat ear patterns began to emerge on the originally smooth plaster surface.

Plump ears of wheat "grow" out of the wall, their outlines clearly visible. Each grain of wheat gleams with a golden luster, and the awns are long and soft. Thousands upon thousands of ears of wheat sway on the wall, like a golden ocean.

Immediately afterwards, the dome also began to glow.

The beautiful statue of the Mother of Harvest "opens" her eyes and looks down upon those seeking refuge in her church.

Divinity descended.

In the very center, a huge stained-glass window depicting the scene of the Harvest Goddess blessing the fields bursts forth with dazzling golden light, and the patterns on the glass come alive—the ears of wheat in the hands of the Goddess are truly growing, the farmers in the fields are truly working, and the clouds in the sky are truly moving.

Light streamed down from the dome like a golden rain.

The light fell on people, each point carrying a warm power, dispelling the cold and sticky air. The screams, cries, and chaos gradually subsided in the golden light.

The bloodshot in the old woman's eyes, who was the most severely affected by mental pollution, began to fade. She stopped muttering to herself, looked around blankly, and then looked down at her trembling hands, seemingly not understanding what had just happened.

The young man scratching his face slowed down. He stared blankly at his bleeding cheek, then looked around, as if he had just woken up from a nightmare.

The crying little girl stopped wailing, sobbing, and reached out to catch the golden specks of light.

The light fell into her palm, turning into a warm breath that seeped into her body through her skin. The fear on her face gradually faded, replaced by confusion and curiosity.

The chaos in the hall was quickly quelled.

People stood there, looking up at the golden light streaming down from the dome, their faces a mixture of shock, bewilderment, and a sense of relief at surviving a catastrophe.

Some people knelt down, clasped their hands together, and began to pray devoutly: "Praise be to Mother Goddess!"

"A miracle...this is a true miracle!"

"I felt it! The Mother Goddess just looked down upon us. She saved us! She saved us!"

A golden halo spread out outside the church.

From the outside, the entire Harvest Church is enveloped in a translucent golden sphere of light with flowing wheat ear patterns. The surface of the sphere ripples gently, isolating it from the foul fluctuations outside.

Inside the sphere of light, the air was fresh and warm, like a wheat field in early autumn; outside the sphere, the air was still thick and cold, and the plants on the street were rapidly withering and decaying.

In the hall, Zeng Lai squinted as he watched all of this.

He walked to a stained-glass window and looked out. The scene on the street made him frown even more—withered plants, extinguished gaslights, black cracks spreading across the walls, and in the distance, the sky in the direction of the manor had turned dark red.

Under the dark red sky, one can vaguely see the overlapping shadows of two worlds: the outline of the manor buildings intertwined with a scene of scorched ruins, the boundaries blurred, like two misaligned negatives.

“My God…” a middle-aged man who had also leaned close to the window murmured, “What is that?” More and more people noticed the strange phenomenon outside the window.

They crowded to the window, looking at the dark red sky and the overlapping, illusory world, and the fear that had just subsided on their faces resurfaced.

Whispers filled the hall, and a sense of unease spread once again.

Just then, Tian, ​​who was on the pulpit, spoke.

She walked to the front of the stage, spread her arms, and her voice, amplified by some mysterious magic, clearly resounded throughout the entire hall:
"My children!"

Everyone turned to look at her.

Tian wore a solemn yet compassionate expression as she surveyed the crowd below, her gaze resolute.

“An evil force is encroaching on us,” she said in a deep voice. “What you just felt and what you are seeing now is the pollution and distortion brought about by that force; it is the work of Tantric Buddhism.”

"But don't be afraid."

Tian's voice rose, carrying an inspiring power, yet she endured the burning of the holy light on the soul of this cultist. But excitement made her indifferent to the pain; she looked down at the crowd, her desire to perform at an all-time high:

"The Mother Goddess has never abandoned her people. Look around, this protective shield and the golden rain that heals your wounds are all blessings from the Mother Goddess, protection she left for us long ago!"

She walked to the edge of the pulpit and gently ran her fingers across its surface.

"When this church was first built, its walls were embedded with 108 citrine crystals that had been personally blessed by the Mother Goddess. These crystals were arranged according to the pattern of the Mother Goddess's emblem, forming this protective shield. It usually lies dormant and is only activated when the church is attacked by an attack of sufficient power."

Tian raised her head, her gaze resolute.

"It can only be used once. Once activated, it will continuously drain the divine power in the crystal until the energy is depleted, but during this time—within this protective barrier—you are safe."

This is public information within the church. Every priest, upon joining the clergy, will see information about citrine blessed by the Mother Goddess on the first page of their clergy handbook.

But the ordinary townspeople didn't know that hearing the "archbishop" say that rekindled hope in their eyes.

“And now,” Tian turned to the priests and deacons in the hall, “it is time for us to fulfill our mission.”

She walked down step by step to the window, looked up at the view on the horizon:

"The source of evil is over there. All combat personnel, follow me. The rest of the priests and nuns, stay behind to protect the people and maintain the stability of the protective shield. Don't give the cult any opportunity to take advantage."

The implication was that he was reminding his fellow cult members to hurry up and cause trouble, and not let the people in the church have it too easy.

Tian paused, then looked at Zeng Lai and the other strategists in the crowd.

"Friends of the Ideal State, are you willing to fight alongside us?"

Zeng Lai looked at her and inwardly curled her lip.

That was such a convincing performance.

This imposter is now leading people to the manor, ostensibly to stop the ceremony, but he's definitely prepared to sabotage the church again in the chaos.

But he put on a serious expression and stepped forward.

“Of course,” Zeng Lai said in a loud voice. “The Republic and the Church are allies. It is our duty to fight against evil.”

The other strategists behind him nodded in agreement.

A relieved smile appeared on Tian's face.

“Praise be to the Mother Goddess,” she whispered, then turned to the crowd. “Now, let’s go!”

She walked towards the church door first, with Zeng Lai and the other deducers following at the back of the group.

The people in the hall automatically made way for them.

They looked at the team about to depart, their eyes filled with complex emotions—gratitude, worry, prayer, and fear.

In reality, they had no idea what had happened and were still in a daze.

Tian walked to the front of the church and stopped.

She turned to face all the people in the hall, her hands forming a prayer gesture for the Mother Goddess of Harvest in front of her chest.

“Stay here,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. “Stay under the protection of Mother Goddess, do not leave the protective shield, do not be consumed by fear, trust us, trust Mother Goddess.”

"We will bring peace back."

After saying that, she pushed open the heavy door.

The sight outside made everyone gasp.

The streets have completely changed.

All the plants were withered and rotten, as if they had been splashed with strong acid. The walls were covered with black cracks, and some parts had begun to collapse. The air was filled with the stench of sulfur and rotting flesh. The temperature was abnormally low, and white vapor could be seen when breathing.

The sky was dark red, pressing down low, as if it were about to collapse.

In the distance, towards the manor, the overlapping phantoms of the two worlds became even clearer.

The outline of the main building of the manor can be clearly seen, as well as the scorched earth, broken stone pillars, and tilted ruins. The two scenes intertwine and permeate each other, like an absurd nightmare.

Tian did not linger.

She stepped out of the church and onto the stone path in front of it. The golden light rippled slightly as she passed through, like pebbles being thrown into water. She stepped out of the light and into the polluted air outside.

Guards, deacons, and divination practitioners followed closely behind.

Zeng Lai was the last one to leave.

The moment he stepped out of the light barrier, he felt a strong wave of pollution hit him. The air was as thick as liquid, and his skin stung as if countless tiny insects were crawling on it. He heard faint whispers in his ears.

His face paled instantly, already wounded in spirit. The others were not much better off. The oppressive feeling of the ancient god in the distance was gradually increasing. Without the protection of the church's holy light, their degree of personality alienation began to grow wildly.

At the same time, a task notification pops up.

[Main Quest Updated: The final ritual has been successfully initiated. The distant, indescribable is descending. Quickly stop the cult! Don't let the twisted gods corrupt this land.]

[The dungeon settlement will begin immediately upon successful completion of the mission]

[Punishment for mission failure: Become a dungeon monster]

The strategists' expressions turned serious.

At this rate of contamination, they will show temporary symptoms of mutation in less than half an hour. If the mission is not completed within an hour, their fate will be sealed.

This is not a protracted battle; the race against time began the moment the signs of the ceremony first appeared. (End of Chapter)