Witch, Fireball and Steam Evil God

Chapter 490 Today's Victory or Defeat: Bazalian's Defeat

So much happened that day that Hafiz's mind went blank.

He didn't understand why Marshall would start a riot in prison.

The outcasts in this lower city had no intention of judging them, but they also never intended to let them escape from here. Unmoved by any profit, they had no way of knowing his true purpose.

Hafiz knew that these kinds of people were the most terrifying.

Once someone like Marshall gains power...

"Why, Marshall!"

He mustered his courage and interrupted Marshall's conversation with the prisoner. The image of the prisoner who had exploded and died was still vivid in his mind, and the others dared not approach rashly again.

This is a game where lives are the stakes.

"boom--!"

The response to Hafiz was an unexpected gunshot. He was stunned at first, and it wasn't until his right leg lost its support and he fell to the ground that the excruciating pain surged up. Not only Hafiz, but even the prisoners gathered there were in disbelief.

A mere lowly commoner from the lower city district actually shot and pierced the former mayor's knee without batting an eye!
A complete madman, at this moment, seemed to them more like another creature wearing human skin.

"You're insane, Marshall!"

The prisoner questioned him.

They all had their own ulterior motives for joining the riot. After witnessing the monsters break through C2's defenses with unstoppable force, some of them genuinely believed they could escape from this hellish place, while others were simply looking for trouble and wanted to vent their pent-up anger after being imprisoned for so long.

But nobody comes here looking for death.

On the eve of the arrival of the Upper City officials, the acting warden personally came before them to address them and explain the importance of these men.

They were all individuals personally watched by Saint Mary, and the upcoming trial meant that Oasis City would undergo unprecedented changes, with these people becoming stepping stones to reform.

Mayor Hafiz was the first to be affected.

If they were to kill Hafiz here, it would be tantamount to declaring war on Saint Mary and the entire Vatican, and no one with a brain would do that.

“Bang, bang bang—!”

Several more gunshots rang out. Marshall ignored the prisoners' pleas, his face maintaining a fervent and sweet smile throughout.

Hafiz had bullets piercing both of his legs. The last shot avoided his vital organs and hit his abdomen. He curled up on the ground, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Marshall has gone mad!
He didn't just want to kill Hafez; more importantly, he wanted to enjoy the execution process.

"Stop! He's already dead anyway, he'll be sent to the guillotine soon!"

The prisoner shouted, "If you want revenge, wouldn't it be more satisfying to parade him through the streets?"

Even they hadn't anticipated this scene.

When the monster tore open their cells, allowing them to escape, everyone was prepared to cause a ruckus in front of the guards.

However, they are now taking on the role of prison guards, persuading an armed thug to release the hostages he has taken hostage.

It is simply contrary to Tiangang!

"revenge?"

Their response was a disdainful sneer: "Why seek revenge? What did he do to me?"

"If that's the case, why did you—"

“I admire him very much.”

The prison was completely silent; even Hafiz briefly stopped wailing, his eyes filled with shock.

Marshall greatly admired him.

The way they admired him was to shoot him in the legs, deliberately avoiding vital organs, and prolonging the execution as much as possible.

No one could understand Marshall's way of thinking, which is why they suddenly found him even more terrifying than the monster they had just seen.

"He's the former mayor of this city, which means if he wants someone to die, you'll find half of that person's body buried in the sand outside the city the next day."

Marshall said, "Don't you find the power of life and death wonderful?"

This power made Hafiz appear to the people of the lower city as a completely different species from them, and he became their ruler.

Now, he only needs to slightly shift the gun barrel and pull the trigger again to end the life of this "ruler".

"Don't you understand?"

He glanced at the prisoners, his gaze finally settling on the bright red fruits in the basket, which seemed to throb like hearts. "Before God, even a mayor is nothing more than an ant that He can crush with a flick of His wrist. Now, the Goddess has placed before you the opportunity to rise above all things."

Marshall pointed his gun at Hafiz's forehead. "And that includes you, of course."

At that moment, Hafiz finally understood.

This was never about justice or revenge; Marshall simply enjoyed the freedom to decide the life and death of others.

This is also the essence of this riot.

It was neither a rescue nor a revenge, but rather a way to enjoy the chaos, like a pre-apocalyptic carnival.

"Mayor Hafiz, swallow the fruits that belong to you."

Marshall commanded, "Otherwise, a bullet will blow your head off in the next moment."

This is both an open conspiracy and a high-stakes gamble.

At that moment, the roulette wheel turned in his favor.

Eating the whole fruit might grant him power greater than that of the sheriff, or he might explode like that unfortunate prisoner. But if he didn't do as Marshall said, he had no doubt that the madman would actually pull the trigger.

Hafiz never puts himself in a dilemma, but now he has no choice.

He glared at Marshall, who ignored him and began the countdown:

“5、4、3、2、1——”

With a second left before the countdown ended, Hafiz gritted his teeth and swallowed the fruit.

The next moment, he felt as if his heart was about to jump out of his chest. The pain from being shot was gradually disappearing. He felt changes in his limbs, and his body, which had fallen to the ground, leaped into the air. It was a lightness he had never felt before.

Hafiz had only one thought left in his mind.

—He wants to kill Marshall!

His existence is a scourge to anyone!
only……

Hafiz also noticed the looks in Marshall's and the other prisoners' eyes. They had witnessed their own transformation, but their eyes did not show awe or fear. Instead, they showed a kind of... astonishment, and a strange expression of wanting to laugh but not being able to.

Die, Marshall!

Hafiz roared, but he could no longer speak human language.

The anger in his heart turned into a powerful "Ha—!", and he stretched out his claws and scratched Marshall's face with all his might.

This seemingly sure-fire strike was thwarted when Marshall raised his foot and kicked it away.

Hafiz tumbled several times in mid-air before crashing back onto the hard bed in his cell. Although it didn't hurt much, it made Hafiz realize something was wrong. He straightened up and found himself on all fours. When he looked down, all he could see were orange fur. His claws were short and hardly any weapons.

Worse still, Marshall and the prisoners appeared very tall in his eyes, like giants.

Marshall didn't even bother to aim his gun at him again.

An orange cat, its ears drooping down in anger and fear, made its head appear very round.

Marshall didn't know if it was because the fruit was missing a segment, but Hafiz forcibly opened up a third path.

He neither exploded and died, nor received the blessing of the goddess, but instead became an orange cat that could only hiss and was powerless and furious in front of him.

His current appearance seems to be merely a result of the goddess's wicked humor.

Perhaps the goddess wanted Hafiz to witness everything that was about to happen in such a pitiful state.

"It seems you have made your choice."

He picked it up and addressed the prisoners who were unmoved by his sharing.

The sound of crisscrossing footsteps drew closer, and a dark mass of people emerged from the dim light. At the very front was the acting warden, wielding a demonic sword, scrutinizing Marshall with a stern gaze, along with the fruit basket he carried on his arm.

"That's enough, Marshall!"

The acting warden shouted sternly.

"You've come at the perfect time, so let's witness this together."

"Stop him!"

At the acting warden's command, he took the lead, brandishing his demonic sword and charging towards Marshall. Although he didn't know what Marshall's plan was, he sensed the danger and death emanating from the other party.

Several gunshots rang out intermittently behind them; most of their sidearms had been lost in the sword-forging competition.

However, the bullet still pierced Marshall's skin. The first fruit was swallowed.

They clearly saw human organs such as eyes, hands, and mouth growing out of the hole that Marshall was shot through.

Then came the second fruit.

A slit was torn open in Marshall's abdomen, like a giant maw, with still-wriggling muscle tissue like teeth, swallowing the entire fruit basket whole.

The black sword had descended upon Marshall, slashing at the transforming monster without any hesitation.

After that sword strike, Marshall had vanished without a trace.

"……it's over?"

The prison guards behind him were still shaken.

They had never seen such a monster before, nor could they understand what kind of madman would turn himself into that form.

"As long as your faith is strong enough, the goddess's grace will descend upon you—"

Their response was a murmur that went straight to their minds. Everyone's legs went weak, and when they looked down, they found that their ankles had sunk into melting flesh.

Immediately afterward, the iron bars and walls, everything they could see, were melting at a visible speed, turning into a pile of rotting flesh. Within this pile of rotting flesh, a large number of human organs were piled up together. Marshall did not speak; his thoughts entered the brains of everyone along with the flesh and blood.

They had no chance to escape.

The melting flesh and blood engulfed them and the entire prison area in an instant, like a rising tide.

"Feel it with your bodies, this is the power of God, become a part of it!"

Whispers echoed in their minds: "This is a trial, and only death can bring absolute justice."

Through his incessant chatter, all the guards and prisoners understood Marshall's ultimate goal—he wanted to kill everyone.

This includes people outside of prison.

Even Ethan, who was atop the giant ice crystal tree, noticed the changes in the prison. The cold, hard walls were melting continuously, and the entire building was "coming alive" from the pile of rotting flesh.

An uninvited guest appeared beside him.

Bazalian sat on a treetop not far away, picking a cherry and admiring the changes taking place in the prison.

"It seems I've won today."

She said it without turning her head.

Her followers' faith surpassed the prison guards' luck.

However, she still found Ethan's "knife-forging competition" quite remarkable, as it allowed her to fully enjoy the fun of cricket fighting.

They all tacitly abided by the rules of the game, preventing the intervention of "gods" from causing the change to become unbalanced, and instead letting the crickets decide their own fate.

Bazalian felt that the timing of the giant ice crystal tree's appearance was perfect, like the best spot in the Eternal Theater, allowing her to clearly appreciate the course of the cricket competition, and... the world that "the other her" had created by giving up eternal life to banish them.

She could see the river separating the upper and lower towns, a boundary that ordinary people could not cross.

The city was built in perfect order, a stark contrast to the decaying and melting prison, which was like a child haphazardly scattering toys everywhere.

"It's such a pity that the establishment of order requires the efforts of countless people over several epochs."

Bazalian's crimson pupils gleamed, and even the bright moon in the night sky was stained red by this anomaly. "But to destroy it, all it takes is some parasites and a few madmen."

That's why she doesn't need Ethan, nor does she need anyone to be her advisor.

They appeared to have a large and powerful force, but from the very beginning, they were in an extremely passive position.

Parasites and madmen will always exist.

All she had to do was strike a match, and the world would ignite on its own.

Before she could finish speaking, an anomaly that suddenly appeared in the sky above the prison startled Bazalian.

It seemed as if a black sword had pierced through the prison's dome and been hurled into the sky. Amidst the waves of rotting flesh, faint shouts could be heard.

It seems there are still people who haven't given up.

The brilliance of humanity.

Bazalian smiled; this was the most interesting thing "the other her" had ever found in humans, and she cherished it like a tender bud.

She suddenly felt curious and sincerely looked forward to what kind of fruit the tender buds would bear after thousands of years.
The acting warden, whom she was watching, struggled incessantly amidst the torrent of rotting flesh.

His body was completely submerged, and his face was covered in blood.

But now, he is going to perform one last alchemy.

The prison guards couldn't understand his behavior.

They all knew how many sacrifices they had spent to "forge" this demonic sword, and they also directly felt how low the drop rate of this ritual was. The golden radiance seemed to be an extremely high-level reward. Even if there really was a prize more powerful than the demonic sword on the other side of the ritual, could they really succeed with this last gamble?

In fact, even the prison guards didn't know what kind of weapons they needed to fight Marshall.

They didn't want to gamble their lives on a high-stakes gamble, but the acting warden, with his last ounce of strength, hurled the demon sword into the night sky.

"Stop talking nonsense, just do as I say!"

Amidst the surging waves of rotting flesh, came the struggling voice of the acting warden.

The prison guards eventually complied. Working together, they used a broken, not-yet-completely-melted iron bar to pry the acting warden away, diverting him to the other side.

He mustered all his strength and crashed into a room.

The demonic sword in the clouds is falling, and the acting warden lies exhausted on the blood-soaked floor, looking up at the sky through the broken dome.

He had spent ten years in this prison, and no one knew its layout better than him.

If we take the place where Marshall ate the fruit as one of the focal points of the ritual...

The falling demonic sword became clearer and clearer in his vision.

He certainly didn't expect that being an "African" would suddenly turn his luck around in this final gamble. What he really wanted to use was the rules of the "knife forging competition," because he suddenly realized that the rules themselves were their most powerful weapon.

Whatever they may gain from the black hole, the sacrificed items will inevitably disappear.

So that's how it is; this is the true meaning of "sacrifice"...

The black sword ultimately failed to fall to the ground, transforming into white light before landing in the prison.

The acting warden's arm also disappeared, then his body, and then, starting from him, the disappearance spread to the melting floor that was engulfing him.

The turbulent wave of flesh and blood gradually subsided, and everything it swept away became part of the white light until it was sucked into the gate activated by the ritual.

"It's too early for you to judge the outcome."

As Ethan spoke, the entire prison, along with the melting flesh and blood, turned into white light and vanished without a trace into the night sky.

"Indeed impressive."

Bazalian remained elegant and composed. "Let's call it a draw today."

Is that really the case?

Ethan stared directly at Bazalian, whose long hair swayed in the night breeze and, illuminated by the crimson moonlight, possessed a captivating beauty.

His gaze traveled downwards, finally settling on her crossed legs.

From the moment he reached the top of the stairs, he noticed a detail.

A detail that could determine the course of this conversation.

Bazalian felt Ethan's gaze and swaggered her sandal-clad ankles, the delicate red ribbons outlining her feet like works of art.

She smiled, waiting for Ethan to continue.

"Anzi."

Ethan raised his right hand and pointed his index finger at her like a famous detective. "Your butt looks like it's frozen in place by a tree branch."

This is the inevitable result of sitting on ice on a freezing day. It's a product of the winter's ice element magic, so cold it can freeze even the soul.

For the first time ever, the goddess's elegant smile froze on her face.

She shifted her body subtly, but remained motionless.

"Moriko."

After a brief silence, Bazalian forced a smile, then looked at Ethan pleadingly, "Come and lend a hand."

……

Today's outcome,
Bazalian's defeat.

(End of this chapter)