musicians of old

Chapter 932 The Anomaly Above!
“Swish, swish, swish, swish, swish—”

At the same moment Fanning leaped into the river, Pogrerich slashed diagonally from left and right, unleashing six invisible yet terrifying blades that simultaneously "cut into" a compound eye, dozens of meters high, that had opened on the side of the church.

The colorful eyeballs were immediately deformed by the constriction, and pus flowed from them as they struggled violently. The nearby "intestines" also thrashed wildly, trying to help them break free of the restraints. In the chaos, several more pillars broke off simultaneously.

"Zheng—!!!!"

In that instant, Fanning plucked all six strings at the same time, and a high-pitched, bright, Dionysian diminished seventh chord resounded.

Inside the church, the choir and band unleashed a burst of violent energy on a strong beat. The six sword lights left behind by Pogrerich instantly transformed into condensed crescent-shaped golden sonic blades, which fiercely converged on that bloody eyeball!

“Pfft——!!!”

The first substantial collaboration yielded initial results; the eyeballs, which had been squeezed open, instantly gushed out semen and detached like withered suction cups.

It turns out that there was originally a giant mural behind it, which underwent the most malignant mutation under the dual pollution of the green light of the "Midnight Moon" and the whisper of the "True Word Serpent". The angel wings depicted in the mural were nested in layers, and the holy faces were twisted and multiplied into countless smiling mouths. The halo and clouds on the outside condensed into the egg sheaths of the double-disc trematode.

At this moment, the egg case breaks open, and tens of thousands of colorful segments surge out like a tsunami.

These double-disc flukes quickly spread out, attaching themselves to the key and vulnerable parts of the church, and began to gnaw or burrow into them fiercely!

Fanning waved his hand in mid-air, and the true knowledge of the "Gate of the Midnight" swept around rapidly like a pointer, instantly projecting a huge shadowy dial onto it.

The dimensions of space are folded, forming countless cyclical corridors, and the flow of time is transformed into extremely regular yet extremely slow beats. The gnawing actions of these things are immediately mired in the quagmire.

After making this move, Fan Ning did not linger. In a few flashes, he reappeared on the side of the sacrificial altar.

There was a "brain" formed from countless disordered historical memories and hatred, which directly parasitized several core rule networks connecting the dome star map and the ground band. It did not destroy these networks, but instead tightly attached its own components to them, synchronously urging the star map to wriggle.

The spatial structure is like a piece of paper that has been crumpled and then randomly glued back together. The flow of time is sometimes fast and sometimes slow, and it even seems to flow backward in some places. Just staring at it makes you feel a nauseous dizziness.

"dawn."

A clear stream of light, revealing the truth, was drawn from the light and transparent passage of a string instrument by Fan Ning. Wherever the light reached, the hundreds of hateful memories that were mixed and intertwined inside the "brain" were exposed in the most detailed way.

Subsequently, guided by it, more than a hundred blazing golden "whirlwind arrows" shot out from the master chorus seats in different directions and pierced the paradoxical fluid nodes!
"boom!!"

Like a flash from a nuclear explosion, it burst forth, leaving an indelible, blazing golden visual residue, instantly shattering the chaotic memories of the secret history. "Creak...crack."

The moment the "brain" collapsed like mud, a sickeningly loud strangulation sound rang out behind it. The huge dark dial that Fanning had drawn earlier was cleaved into oblivion by Pogrerich along with the two-disc sucker insects inside, leaving not a single piece behind!

Fanning didn't look back or linger for a moment, once again swimming upstream against the filth. The sound of the guitar mingled with the grand chants, sometimes like a net, cutting and sweeping away the scattered fragments that crawled in through smaller openings, sometimes like a cone, precisely blasting those filthy tumors that were growing on the walls and the ground, trying to reconnect into a whole. Pogrerich, on the other hand, had become a tireless slaughtering machine, shuttling through endless cavities and limbs, flashing and exploding with pale white blades, mercilessly eliminating any "impure" or "redundant" elements that even slightly emerged.
Although the interior of the church had developed numerous stress cracks due to the immense forces at play, with many walls riddled with holes and artistic treasures permanently lost, leaving only cold, functional blanks or remnants of "ashes," the light of revelation cast by Fanning after opening the "Dawn Gate" leaped through the chorus seats of the "thousands" in an extremely profound way, illuminating every load-bearing node of the church structure, allowing it to maintain an astonishing resilience even amidst those destructive pulls.

With the combined efforts of these two powerful figures, Mr. F's rampage seemed to have been temporarily contained. However, just when the situation appeared to be under further control—

"Creak. Rumble rumble rumble"

A loud, deeper, and more muffled roar than ever before came from the depths of the church's foundation!
This time it wasn't the sound of a local structure breaking, but a systemic sound, as if the base itself was loosening!

"what's the situation?"

Fanning, carrying a guitar, frowned deeply.

The performance was gradually entering a sacred realm, and it might soon reach that sublime end. The two of them also cleared so many breaches, cut off so many dragging limbs, and even temporarily plugged several large water inlets.

However, the overall sinking trend of the church did not stop; on the contrary, it intensified.
Fanning's main body remained suspended in the command position, but the other divine projection below had stopped playing the strings and was looking up at the sky.

Pogrerich also turned his gaze to the highest point of the church, to the lighthouse area under the dome, where the three keys of time were slowly rotating and pulsating.

Or, to put it another way, the "three-pointed petals" formed by them.

The longer Fanning stared at it, the more he felt that its slow, pulsating rhythm always revealed an indescribable eeriness that was out of place with the grand backdrop of the hymns!
After observing the instrumental passages for more than twenty bars, he seemed to find a counterpart in some "normal memory." Originally, the cold, gray-white Key 1, the pale gold Key 0, and the deep purple Key -1 were connected at their ends, forming a perfect equilateral triangle that opened outwards. Although each occupied a different color, they dynamically balanced each other, together weaving the ripples of truth derived from the "power of creation" evenly into the texture of the entire dome star map, like pumping the life force of an embryo to every part of the body.
That's why Fanning subconsciously associated it with "the tricuspid valve of the heart" and terms like "the heart of the new world".

But now, this "heart" seems to have undergone some pathological changes.

The grayish-white segment representing key number 1 seems to have become a little swollen and enlarged.

The longer Fan Ning stared, the more he felt that the originally cold gray-white color seemed to have been stained with a greasy dark green sheen, and the surface vaguely showed constantly wriggling and smoothing ring-like patterns. Even the "heart" in his divine body seemed to be inexplicably affected, with each beat accompanied by a faint rumbling noise, and a kind of uneasy "sucking sensation" coming from it!
"Pfft!!"

Pogrelic severed another spurting piece of "gut" that had been protruding from the side and above, but he did not pursue the retracted limb. Instead, he stood indifferently with his blade in hand, his gaze fixed on the high dome like that of a hawk.

Before the conclusion was clear, the silence was broken. His words were brief, direct, and to the point, using polite language but without any hint of discussion:
"Please continue creating."