Hogwarts Raven

Chapter 375, Section 374: The Evil God's Scheme
The fleshy egg is not the prototype of a god at all, but a mass of basic particles that are constantly being reorganized, perfecting its form of existence by devouring life.

Just moments before being devoured, the scepter priest understood this truth. The embryo was not a "god about to be born," but rather an awakened rule. It did not grow through faith, but expanded itself by "devouring possibilities." It created the ghost bride not to serve, but to collect living samples, analyze, absorb, and assimilate them.

What we need is a world without boundaries—a world where there is no "you" and "me," no "life" and "death," no "believers" and "gods."

Only it flows eternally and exists eternally.

Even more terrifying, the priest of the scepter realized this too late; he felt his consciousness being analyzed, copied, and then dispersed into the brains of those mummies.

Raven Ian watched this scene silently. He saw the priest's white robes gradually turn gold, and a slit for a third eye split open in the center of his forehead.

When the transformation was complete, the former high priest had become one of the mummies, mechanically joining the chanting. New ghost brides continued to arrive with offerings. Ian noticed the labels were becoming increasingly detailed: "Master of Hermeticism," "Master of the Seven Systems of Prophecy," "Able to Control the Nile Tides."

An embryo is not content with ordinary life force; it begins to selectively absorb specific knowledge and technology in order to combine the strengths of all living beings and complete its own omnipotence.

Ian sensed a terrifying absurdity. The ritual continued, but Ian neither saw the woman in black robes he had encountered before nor found her corpse. He didn't know if she had anticipated this and escaped, or if she had already become one of the mummies before Ian arrived.

After those mummies became mummies, their facial features became indistinguishable.

at this time.

The chanting in the cellar suddenly became rapid, and the jawbones of the mummies opened and closed at an almost breaking frequency, making a chilling clicking sound. The raven that Ian had transformed into perched on a withered tree outside the temple, its wings folded, its scarlet eyes reflecting the faint light of the golden embryo deep underground.

He was still pondering—how to end that existence of "self is everything"? How to break its eternal cycle built up by countless human sacrifices?
There's no time to think about it further.

The golden fleshy egg in the center suddenly trembled violently, and the blood vessels on its surface wriggled like snakes.

A sudden pulse came from within.

Like a heartbeat.

thump—

thump—

The rhythm was slow and heavy, yet carried an irresistible pressure, as if the entire earth was trembling. Black blood began to seep from the temple walls, the ground cracked, and a restless energy, almost like that of pre-birth, filled the air. The air in the entire cellar began to distort, and the moss on the stone walls withered at a visible speed.

It was as if even the vitality of plants had been forcibly extracted.

Ian's pupils contracted sharply.

"Is the egg hatching ahead of schedule?" Ian's mind raced. According to the records he'd seen in the library, this creation ritual should take at least seven more days to complete. Unless—

A remarkably tall figure rose from the horde of mummies. Clad in a tattered robe inlaid with gold thread, its bud on its forehead had grown into a complete golden eyeball—it was the transformed scepter priest, now known as the "Mummy Archbishop." It raised its skeletal arm, and all chanting ceased abruptly.

"To celebrate the coming of our Lord," the mummified archbishop's voice seemed to come from countless voices speaking simultaneously, even the tone carrying an eerie harmony, "all living beings of the city shall offer themselves!"

The ghost brides all looked up, their eyes, formed of golden sand, gleaming with fanatical light. Their red wedding gowns fluttered without wind, and their bodies began to disintegrate into basic particles.

"Find every living creature, adult or child, male or female, young or old," the golden eye on the archbishop's forehead gleamed with a blinding light, "and add them to our ranks!"

It was the voice of the mummified archbishop.

Once the supreme leader of the sun god's faith, now a mere voice of the embryonic form, he stood at the forefront of the mummified priests, his withered arms raised high, palms facing upward, as if proclaiming a divine decree. As his words fell, all the ghost brides in the hall turned simultaneously, their red eyes flashing, their blood-red mouths slightly open. They no longer dragged coffins, but instead merged directly into the walls, disappearing like smoke into the cracks in the stone, vanishing silently through passages in all directions, their target clear—the entire city's living people.

Ian understood instantly.

They are no longer "harvesting witches," but rather, they will harvest the entire city. Every living person will be transformed into a mummified corpse, becoming "nourishment" and "limbs" for the birth of embryos. This city will no longer be a human dwelling, but a vast "divine kingdom" composed of countless mummified corpses.

It's a truly chilling scene.

"Damn it!" Ian cursed inwardly.

He had already devised a tactic for targeting the embryo—to redefine its "logic of existence" using "paradoxical divine authority," trapping it in a quantum state of "both existing and not existing," thereby dismantling its rule anchoring. But that would take time, require precise ritual arrangements, and necessitate going deep underground to confront the embryo directly.

But now, he has no time.

An entire city, thousands of innocent lives, are being pushed toward death.

He couldn't wait any longer.

We must stop this before those monsters unleash their carnage! The raven spread its wings, soared into the sky, and instantly pierced through the temple dome, transforming into a black shadow as it swept towards the city center.

As Ian traversed the narrow ventilation duct, his mind raced. The planned "concept erasure" required meticulous planning, but now he had to activate the backup plan—the unfinished magic based on paradoxical divine authority.

【Exile due to cause and effect】.

When Ian burst out of the temple, the Memphis night sky was already stained a sickly orange-red. In the distance, screams rose and fell; seven ghost brides were hunting in different neighborhoods. The closest one stood in the center of the market, countless blood-red threads extending from the hem of her wedding dress, crawling like living creatures into the cracks of every window.

“The first one.” Ian reverted to human form, the broken wand reforming in his hand. The blue-gold eye at the tip of the wand spun wildly, locking onto its target.

The casting process of 【Cursional Exile】 was completely different from other magic. Ian did not chant the incantation, but instead tore open his left sleeve with his hand—the golden runes hidden under his skin were exposed to the air and began to writhe and recombine like living things.

"Definition: Ian's voice echoed multiple times, 'The very existence of the Ghost Bride is a flawed cause and effect.'"

The tip of the wand emitted a pure white light, but instead of shooting towards the ghost brides, it shot straight into the night sky! The beam of light refracted through the clouds, splitting into seven branches that landed precisely on each of the ghost brides in the hunt.

The ghost bride in the center of the market suddenly froze. She slowly turned around, and for the first time, a look of fear appeared in her eyes. Because her body was becoming unreal.

“You should never have existed.” Ian’s grey-green eyes reflected the white light. “It was a flawed timeline that created you.”

The ghost bride let out a piercing scream, her body flickering like an old-fashioned television signal. She desperately reached for the nearest living person, but her fingers pierced right through their body—she was being stripped from reality!

"Return to nothingness."

Ian pressed down with his wand.

It started breaking down into elementary particles from the soles of her feet. She struggled and screamed, but she couldn't stop the process—because Ian's magic wasn't attacking her at all.

Instead, it's about correcting a real-world "mistake".

The magic was clearly working.

Ian didn't linger too long, after all, there was more than one ghost bride.

As the first rays of dawn seemed to appear.

The city should have been awakening.

However, the streets were deathly silent.

Ian landed, his form changing from a raven back to human. He had barely steadied himself when he heard a piercing scream from the alleyway entrance.

A mother holding her baby was cornered against a wall by a ghost bride dressed in a school uniform. The ghost bride had bloodshot eyes, a mouth that stretched to her ears, and blood spurted from her fingertips, wrapping around the mother and child.

"Please... spare the child..." the mother cried out.

The ghost bride didn't answer, and the blood vessels in her eyes suddenly tightened.

In an instant, the skin of the mother and son began to wither and shrivel, their life force forcibly drained, and golden light surged into the ghost bride's body. In just three seconds, the two turned into dried corpses, which she casually dragged away.

Ian roared, "Stop!"

With a wave of the wand, a burst of silver-blue light erupted: "Exile from Causality!"

This is a unique ability he created based on "paradoxical divine authority" and his understanding of the essence of the ghost bride's existence—it does not attack the body or destroy the soul, but rather removes the target from the "causal chain." Those affected will be banished to the crevices "outside of reality," unable to influence reality or be influenced by it, as if they had never existed.

As expected. Magic is the only way to fight magic, and the unreasonable is the only way to combat the unreasonable.

A wave of silver light swept out, striking the ghost bride directly.

Her body stiffened abruptly, a look of astonishment flashing in her red eyes, and then—her figure began to blur, like a pencil drawing erased by an eraser.

Her presence vanished quickly.

The streets returned to normal, as if nothing had ever happened.

Ian didn't stop. He rushed into the next street, where he saw three ghost brides surrounding a group of civilians hiding inside a church. They raised their hands, and a web of blood began to drain the lives from the crowd.

"Exile from cause and effect!"

A flash of silver light swept across, and the three ghost brides simultaneously disintegrated into nothingness.

Inside the church, the survivors sat slumped, dumbfounded.

"It's...it's that boy!" someone recognized Ian. "He...he defeated them all by himself?!"

Ian burst into the market, where the Ghost Bride was dragging an old man, who might be the embryo of a demon god and needed talent, into a coffin. With a wave of his hand, a flash of silver light appeared, and the Ghost Bride vanished.

Ian leaped onto the clock tower, overlooking the entire city. He saw dozens of red figures roaming the streets, spreading like a plague. There were too many ghost brides; heaven knows how many innocent girls had been turned into ghost brides.

"There's no time to deal with them one by one."

Ian gritted his teeth, raised his wand high, and chanted.

Using paradox as a guide and causality as a blade

Those who pursue death are pursued by death.

Banishment—the entire city!

Anyway, Ian himself is the embodiment of the God of Paradox, so how he chants spells depends entirely on his talent. In an emergency, Ian's talent can only be displayed to this level of childishness.

In an instant, silver-blue light patterns spread out from him like ripples throughout the entire city.

All the ghost brides who were in action, regardless of their location or whether the harvest had already begun, froze.

Their bodies began to become transparent, their red eyes went out, and the bloodshot veins disappeared.

Then--

It collapsed with a crash.

As if wiped from the world by an invisible hand.

On the streets, under the eaves, in basements, countless ghost brides vanished simultaneously. The living people they dragged away fell to the ground, weakened but still alive.

The whole city was silent.

Immediately, cheers erupted like a tidal wave.

"We...we're saved?"

"It was that boy! He saved us!"

"He single-handedly...defeated all the ghost brides!"

People emerged from their hiding place, their eyes filled with awe and reverence as they gazed at the boy standing atop the clock tower. He was only fifteen or sixteen years old, his black robes billowing, his wand pointing to the sky, like a god descending to earth. His slender figure, draped in a tattered black robe, exuded an awe-inspiring majesty.

"Is it a god?" a woman holding a baby murmured.

Ian did not respond. His gaze was cold as he scanned the entire city, confirming that there were no more ghost brides. The last one was a ghost bride hiding in the sewers, about to drag away an unconscious child.

Ian leaped down, and a flash of silver light appeared.

"Exile from cause and effect."

The other party vanished without a sound.

The city has finally quieted down.

However, at that very moment—Ian had no time for worship. He turned towards the temple, his pupils shrinking sharply—the sky there was distorting, black and red lightning crackling like a spiderweb. Even more terrifying, the entire temple structure began to melt like wax, revealing writhing golden flesh within!
Ian was suddenly horrified.

The sky was also changing drastically in the direction of the temple.

Dark clouds, as black as ink, gathered wildly, forming a massive vortex. Thunder rumbled across the sky, as if signifying the impending birth of something that should never have been born.

At the center of the temple, a golden pillar of light shot into the sky, piercing the clouds as if to replace the newborn sun. Thunder rumbled, but it was no ordinary thunder; it was golden lightning, striking down like divine punishment, yet it did not harm the city, merely circling the temple. It was powerless to stop the birth of the evil god.

The gestation of the evil god has reached its final stage.

Inside the mutated temple of flesh and blood, the cries of infants seemed to be mixed in.

"Damn it! A diversionary tactic!" Ian's expression changed drastically.

At this moment.

He realized a deeply unsettling problem, a chill creeping up his spine—the slaughter of the ghost brides was too deliberate, the pronouncements of the mummified priests too blatant, like…like a meticulously planned performance. Ian realized that his city-wide rescue was a diversionary tactic by the embryonic evil god.

Perhaps other beings couldn't see the raven form itself, but the evil god embryo was different. It simply didn't reveal a single clue, using the ghost bride to distract Ian, thus buying itself time for its own birth. Yes, that monster had long since noticed the raven form's observation but disguised it flawlessly!

They were even willing to sacrifice all the ghost brides!

Even more terrifying is that it anticipated Ian's choice—exploiting human weaknesses to force Ian to choose between "destroying the evil god" and "saving all living beings." This level of scheming transcends ordinary wisdom.

An almost premonition of terror.

“It…is really about to be born.” Ian had thought that by stopping the sacrifice, he could delay the awakening of the embryo. But clearly, it had accumulated enough energy that it didn’t need any more sacrifices.

all.

It was all a conspiracy by the embryo of an evil god.

“It’s too late…” Ian muttered to himself.

But he didn't back down.

He turned and looked toward the temple, his wand gripped tightly.

"Since you insisted on being born..."

"Then I will make you close your eyes forever the moment you open them."

A gust of wind rises, and the black robe flutters in the wind.

The boy's figure once again rushed towards the temple that led to hell.

On the city's edge, the woman in the black robe looked up at Ian's retreating figure. The night wind lifted her veil, revealing the fading runes. Her chapped lips trembled slightly.
Will it succeed?

These words were as light as a sigh. She had indeed escaped unscathed, but no one knew what she was plotting.

(End of this chapter)