Extraordinary Pedigree.

Chapter 991 The Monster That Can Be Seen Yet Cannot Be Seen
This book was written by those scoundrels who pave the way for the Fifth Church in the superficial world. They use simplified, low-risk cognitive inducements to get more people to take the first step—but when they reach a point of no return, the real Fifth Church will reach out and drag them completely into the abyss.

Collaborators and donuts—these are things that are indispensable in any world.

Xia Xiu couldn't help but sigh that all worlds have this kind of common garbage; these opportunistic scoundrels can always find their place in any era and any plane.

As he gently turned the pages, Boyar couldn't help but reveal a somewhat distorted expression.

His expression was like that of a gambler who had finally seen the other person sit down at the table he had carefully set up—the excitement and sense of control between his brows and eyes were almost overflowing from his pores.

His gaze slowly shifted to Monford, his eyes darkening, his tone hard and commanding:

"What are you standing there for? Hurry up and look! Don't think you can learn anything by just standing there—you'll never understand the true power of the signal of perseverance if you don't absorb the knowledge!"

At that moment, Boyar's voice was like a cold iron nail driven into the air, making the already oppressive room feel even more cramped.

Monford's breathing became somewhat rapid at that moment.

The book lay before him, its cover silent, devoid of any magical energy, even the scent of the paper like that of ordinary printed matter—yet he was calculating in his mind. Taking a look wouldn't kill him; perhaps it held the answers he sought. Even if it was a trap, he had a chance to detect it beforehand and back down. Besides, he was here to uncover the truth; he couldn't afford to retreat at the very doorstep.

His fingertips had already unconsciously risen, ready to open the book "The Secret of the Stars." But at that very moment, a slender hand reached out from the side and gently pressed on the pages, the movement unhurried yet seemingly blocking his move.

Xia Xiu leaned forward slightly, a half-serious, half-fake smile on his lips, and whispered:
"The book this fat guy gave me is no good—reading it will mess with your brain."

His tone was casual, as if he were joking, but his gaze was as cold as water beneath the ice, making Monford's heart tighten.

Boyar's brow twitched suddenly, and his thick eyelids lifted, revealing a hint of disbelief.

No one would dare to make such unrestrained jokes about "The Secret of the Stars" after watching it.

Even the paladin, that legendary, impartial and incorruptible heroic warrior, remained silent for several days after reading it, and when he mentioned the book again, he fell into a fervent devotion to his lord.

This blond out-of-towner is definitely here to cause trouble.

Boyar's eyes suddenly darkened, and just as he was about to say something, a strange fluctuation surged from the depths of his eyes.

"This is... Lord... no..."

Boyar began to change, and Monford's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at him.

At that moment, a tentacle covered in black fur emerged from Boyar's eye, its slippery texture gleaming coldly in the dim light.

"Ah—!!" Boyar's scream pierced the air as he reached out to grab the tentacle, his knuckles gripping it tightly as if he wanted to tear it off. But the thing was solid, with a bone-like hardness inside, and it didn't budge.

"Click——"

A strange cracking sound rang out, and a second spider leg burst out of his trachea. It was thin, curved, and much longer than the first one, tearing his throat and vocal cords apart, bringing out a large clump of sticky blood.

His breathing immediately turned into a piercing "clucking" sound.

Immediately afterwards, a third spider leg, sharp as a spear, burst forth from his abdomen, tearing through his skin and embedding itself firmly in the ground, accompanied by splattered blood and ripped clothing.

Monford instinctively took a step back.

At that moment, Boyar could no longer be called a "human". He fell forward, crawled two steps unnaturally, and then suddenly straightened up as if pulled by an invisible force.

Three spider legs supported him on the ground, lifting him off the ground in a strange and stiff posture, as if some unseen behemoth was manipulating his limbs from behind. His arms slowly rose, the movements stiff, like a puppet's wrists being pulled by silken threads.

Monford stared intently at the monster before him, his knuckles turning white from the force.

The thing's body was visibly expanding. What was originally a terrifying form occupying only a corner of the room was now swelling up as if inflated by some uncontrollable force—three meters, five meters, ten meters... until it was thirty meters tall, like a living ten-story building blocking the way.

The ceiling cracked open with a dull thud, splinters of wood and dust rained down like a storm, bookshelves were overturned, and heavy books, scrolls, and ornaments flew around as if swept by a gale, crashing to the ground with a series of muffled thuds.

The air was filled with messy scraps of paper and a pungent musty smell, mixed with the stench of blood and some indescribable sweet and pungent odor, making one almost nauseous.

As a warrior, Monford instinctively suppressed the surging fear in his heart, gripped his longsword, and slightly lowered his stance to assume a defensive posture. His heart pounded in his chest, as if urging him to strike quickly.

However, in the next instant, the monster, in its towering spider form, suddenly raised a leg thick enough to break a stone pillar and slashed down directly at him and the blond youth beside him. The air was torn apart by a shrill whistling sound, and a shadow suddenly enveloped them.

"You damned monster, die!!!"

Monford instinctively roared and swung his sword to meet the attack.

As the metal blade sliced ​​through the thick spider limbs, he felt not the expected heavy resistance, but a strange "hollowness." The blade seemed to pass through an illusion, leaving not even the slightest sensation.

"This—" Before he could even exclaim, the shadow was already upon him.

Just as the spider leg was about to crush him, his vision suddenly distorted, and a deep, chilling "hum" filled his ears. The world spun and folded like crumpled paper, gravity vanished completely, and he lost all sense of direction.

Light and shadow intertwined before his eyes like a Möbius strip, the floor and ceiling swapped positions, the surrounding space was stretched infinitely and then suddenly compressed, and in addition to the buzzing, there was the booming sound of blood vibrating in his eardrums.

The next moment, a cool breeze swept over me.

Monford abruptly opened his eyes. Before him was no longer a broken roof and an approaching monster, but the rooftops of the Far East city under the cover of night. The tiles beneath his feet were cold and hard, and the lights in the distance twinkled like stars.

He then realized that his feet were dangling in mid-air, and he had been lifted up by the back of his collar to avoid falling. When he turned around, the blond youth was standing steadily on the roof, holding a silver cane in one hand and lifting him up with the other, looking calm, as if what had just happened was just a casual closing of a door.

On the rooftop, the night wind howled, carrying a salty, damp chill as it swept across the tiles, causing Monford's cloak to flutter wildly. He was still in a daze.

Xia Xiu gripped the lever in his hand, his golden eyes slightly narrowed, like a hunting cat staring at something.

He uttered a sentence in a low voice that left Monford completely baffled:
"An invisible monster... The methods of the Fifth Church are truly chilling."

Monford was taken aback, and a question lingered in his mind.

What invisible monster? That thing is clearly as big as a whole clock tower, with eight legs supporting it on both sides of the street, like a giant bridge spanning the city. How could it not be seen?
He was about to open his mouth to retort, but the next moment, his gaze shifted downwards, and his breath suddenly stopped as if something had choked him.

Under the cover of night in Far East City, the spider, as tall as a skyscraper, moved slowly along the main street, the sound of its toes tapping on the stone pavement deep and heavy, like a war drum beating into the chest.

But... the pedestrians on the street continued to carry baskets and push carts as usual, their footsteps, cries of vendors, and barking of dogs blending together, and not a single person looked up, not a single person showed any fear. The monster seemed not to exist, stepping across them.

Even more outrageous, not far away there was a patrol of loyal souls, their armor gleaming coldly under the magic lamps. They brushed past the monster, their eyes showing no emotion whatsoever, as if the behemoth were nothing but air.

Monford felt a chill run down his spine, and sweat trickled down his temples.

But then he saw another scene that made his hair stand on end—the place where the monster had been standing, the bookstore that had been torn apart and overturned, was now being restored in a bizarre way.

The broken wooden beams sprang back together on their own, the shattered bricks and stones seemed to be pressed back onto the wall by an invisible hand, and the falling dust flowed back to the roof.

In just a few seconds, the bookstore was completely intact, as if it had never been damaged.

What the hell are these?

At this moment, Monford's worldview was being violently shaken; everything was happening too fast and too inexplicably.

"How can this be……"

"Wait, my brain... hiss... something's gone from my brain, no..."

His throat was dry, and he instinctively covered his head, as if someone had forcibly ripped something out of his brain.

The image began to fragment, and he tried to recall what had just happened, but could only grasp at scattered fragments.

The sound of cracking, the shadow of a monster, the smell of blood...

Monford stared intently at the spider monster, which was as tall as a building, his fingers unconsciously gripping the edge of the eaves.

His heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to remember it all, to etch it into his mind—but in the blink of an eye, the way the monster lifted its foot, the sound of its landing… all became blurry.

No, that's not right. He clearly heard a deafening "boom" just now, but now all he can hear is the sound of the wind.

The image of the monster faded from his mind, like ink being washed away by water, dissolving piece by piece.

He subconsciously clenched his teeth, trying to grasp those details that were about to disappear, but the harder he tried, the more the memories slipped through his fingers like fine sand.

The monster's height—unclear.

Its eyes—blank.

Even that bookstore that was trampled down... the bookstore?
No, isn't that house standing there perfectly fine?

A chill crept up my spine and up my neck.

Monford's breathing became labored, and he suddenly realized that not only was the scene in front of him changing, but he himself was forgetting.

The feeling was like a cold hand reaching into his brain, slowly tearing away the flesh of his memories, leaving an emptiness.

What terrified Monford even more was that the towering spider monster in front of him was gradually fading from his sight.

At first, the details of the toes became blurred; then the outline of the hairy joints was swallowed by the night; further up, the chest, tentacles, eyes... as if someone were wiping a canvas with a damp cloth, the lines and blocks of color faded away inch by inch.

It wasn't that it had left—Monford knew this in his heart.

It's still there, moving between the city streets, huge enough to cover half the square.

But... I can't see it anymore.

A chill ran down his spine to the back of his neck, and he couldn't help but wonder: what would have happened if that thing had pierced through his body just now?
Will anyone see me fall?
Will anyone remember that they have died?

Or will it be completely erased from everyone's eyes, memories, and world, just like it is now?

"Staring at it for too long will cause it to bite off a part of your senses."

Suddenly, Xia Xiu's calm voice rang in his ears. The blond youth stood beside him, his golden pupils seeming to be weighing something, or perhaps taking notes.

“It’s not simply invisibility,” Xia Xiu continued, tapping the handle of his silver cane lightly with his fingers, “but rather the reverse of the Mother Pollution—the information decay type. Its existence will actively erase itself from your senses and memories, while rewriting reality according to its state.”

He gestured with his chin toward the intact bookstore in the distance.

"You thought that house was just trampled to pieces? You read that right. But now it's been changed to make it seem like nothing ever happened—and not just the visuals, but the minds of everyone present have been simultaneously altered."

Xia Xiu raised a finger, pointed to his temple, and then tapped the roof tiles at his feet.

"This inverse model of the mother is not just a simple matter of cognitive pollution. Its influence transcends the senses and memory, reaching directly into the foundation of information—that is, the layer of reality narrative."

"When it rewrites a piece of information, the whole reality is rewritten, just like an archive is rewritten, and the house returns to its original, intact state."

At this point, Xia Xiu couldn't help but raise his left hand, stroking his chin, and said with an interested tone:

"This ability to reverse the mother's power—it's simply amazing."

His voice was low, yet it conveyed a heartfelt admiration and longing, like a hunter spotting a rare prey or a craftsman discovering the perfect raw material.

"Imagine—if you could control it, you could not only make others forget and rewrite information, but also use it to precisely 'restore' anything that has been destroyed."

Whether it's a house, a weapon, or even a living person, as long as the information about its existence hasn't been completely erased, it can be directly 'restored to its original state.'

"If it goes even further, it could even restore or decompose chaotic structures, and even allow severed hands to track and reattach to the body..."

Monford felt a chill run down his spine. He suddenly realized—the blond youth before him, faced with such a terrifying thing, wasn't initially afraid of the ability, but rather contemplating it…

How can I take it for myself!

What a terrible man!