Fighting on the surface felt satisfying, since the entire planet was the enemy. God of Destruction went off to gather resources and build giant Clone. At the Lord's request, several of Belial's Clone gathered around the Canyon and opened their mouths to charge power.
"Corona Beam!" "Plasma Cutting!" "Super-spiral Fusion Reaction Beam!"
Under this destruction, the living planet of Hedorah was torn apart along the previous wound and collapsed at shocking speed. It was almost completely split, with only a thin layer still holding it together. Rampant Crystal ecology devoured its foundation, making cleanup easy.
More importantly, he needed to leave it alive to question it. Beating it until it could not resist was enough. Hedorah realized this too, but its weak resistance was easily suppressed by the ecology.
Another sudden surge of pain made it howl, as it was completely split into two. "I could tell you were planning something. Behave yourself," Belial scolded, slamming down another massive Space explosion. Now, Hedorah had almost no power left to resist.
"This outcome is normal," he said smugly. "I already cleared a movie version. If my power multiplied more than ten times and I still could not pin you down, I would quit."
He literally pressed it down and smashed it everywhere, the planet breaking apart like clay into countless Shard. Its final roars were useless as its massive form was eaten away, though Belial deliberately preserved a part capable of holding a soul.
"Next is questioning. I need patience this time, not just vaporize it." He pinned the last mass of black sludge with Gravity Manipulation when Mephist suddenly frowned. Something felt wrong, as something he should have sensed was gone.
After a brief silence, he muttered, "Where did this thing's soul go?"
"..."
"What happened to me this time?"
Alba woke up to unsettling muttering and other strange sounds. She felt a dull ache at the back of her head and instinctively tried to reach up, only to realize something else was very wrong. She was tightly bound and thrown into a corner like the other unconscious people nearby, set aside like livestock waiting to be slaughtered.
The room was a dim gray stone chamber with torches as the only light source. The flames revealed blood-colored patterns carved all over the walls, all built on Eight-Pointed Runes and filling the entire space. Just looking at them made her dizzy, as if the patterns were glowing faintly and moving like living things.
In the distance, she could make out robed figures dancing and gesturing wildly. The air carried a familiar mix of Corruption and the smell of blood, something Alba had already grown used to. She sighed quietly, already understanding the situation.
"Looks like I ran into Abyss Church again. This simulation is over."
She had long accepted the routine of being caught by Abyss Church and treated like a sacrificial offering. This was far from the first time she had ended up tied up and waiting to be killed. At this point, it almost felt familiar.
After starting the simulation, she had followed the lead Elvin mentioned and investigated the so-called Communion of Flesh and Spirit. In truth, Alba knew far more than Elvin expected, especially when it came to Abyss Church. The only thing she could not figure out was why she kept getting caught, though being sacrificed repeatedly was about as direct a way to learn as it got.
"Even if this run is doomed, I should at least gather more information."
She shifted her body carefully, testing her surroundings. The room was sealed, and she could not see any external structure, making it hard to tell where she was. That made things more troublesome.
She rubbed herself slightly against the bindings and confirmed that her small knife was still on her. With movements far more flexible than she ever used to be, she slowly worked the blade out and slipped it between two fingers. She began cutting the rope with care.
The rope was ordinary, and whoever tied it clearly did not put much effort into it. Alba easily cut through it but stopped short of freeing herself completely, leaving it loose enough to escape at any moment. Keeping up appearances felt safer.
"I cannot believe even a child was a believer of Nebula Church. I am so sick of this insane Abyss faith."
She had gone to what seemed like the most likely place to investigate and found injured people with wounds similar to Elvin's. Using the excuse of charitable healing under Church of Holy Light, she treated them while quietly gathering information. Later, she followed a little girl back to her home to treat the girl's bedridden mother and passed through an alley, and then everything went black.
Whether the girl herself did it or accomplices were involved did not really matter. The lighting here was poor, and her position was not ideal, so she moved slowly and cautiously. She checked herself over and found no major injuries, and even her copy of the Dawn scripture associated with Dawn was still on her.
She had learned why her belongings were never taken after dying a few times. The Abyss believers seemed to think sacrifices related to Holy Light had to remain untouched to be offered properly. They also wanted to humiliate them fully, sometimes even trying to provoke their Holy Light before killing them.
They also seemed to have a strange sense of cleanliness. Just as normal people saw Abyss believers as mad, those believers found followers of Holy Light disgusting as well. No one wanted to touch what they considered filth.
"There is not much more to learn here. Since this is just a simulation, I should take the initiative and gather information directly."
She looked around and saw only a few distant figures of cultists. Beside her was a corridor leading away, barely lit, but if she was careful, she could likely slip out without alerting them. She whispered an apology to the other captives, knowing she could not save them yet.
She cut the rope completely, freed her hands, and crawled quietly toward the corridor. At the corner, she stood up quickly and grabbed a nearby object to use as a weapon. The familiar weight made her pause.
"This is my hammer. They really had nothing better to do than bring this along."
It was her long-handled hammer, taken by the Abyss believers along with her. Since it was a weapon she knew well, it felt reassuring in her hands. Used properly, it could certainly kill.
She began exploring, moving silently through the corridors. After dying so many times, she had developed skills she never should have needed, such as running without making a sound. At one corner, she stopped and listened carefully.
She heard the faint clinking of Shard and low voices talking. Words like sacrifice, the Lord's church, and divine descent drifted over. Mentions of greatness and Blessing followed.
That was enough for Alba to guess most of it. It sounded like some priest-level figure planning a large-scale sacrifice to seek the Blessing of an Evil God. She had seen such attempts many times before, and none had ever succeeded.
From their sounds, these believers did not seem to be true practitioners. Most of them were ordinary people, which made sense. If there had been a real cultivator among them, she would have died the moment she left the corridor.
She counted the footsteps quietly and confirmed there was only one person. Gripping her hammer tightly, she judged the position by shadow and sound. In a single instant, she charged out and swung without hesitation, aiming straight for the head.
The cultist was on his way to the sacrificial hall, filled with excitement at the thought of witnessing a miracle. He believed that participating in such a ritual would earn him more Blessing. Even the small amount of power he already had let him kill those who once looked down on him.
As he passed the corridor, a white figure suddenly rushed out, hammer raised. He was startled but not alarmed, convinced his divine power would protect him. The power of slowing should make any attack ineffective, especially from an ordinary hammer.
The impact came instantly.
He lost consciousness.
When he woke up, his head felt like it was about to be torn apart. His hands and legs were smashed beyond use, his body bound tightly like a worm, and Alba stood before him with a hammer heated red-hot.
"I ask, you answer. If not, I smash you. Understood?"
"Understood."
He surrendered immediately, and Alba finally relaxed a little. He did not seem insane enough to kill himself on the spot, which meant there was still a chance. They were in a storage room with little traffic, making it a safe place to interrogate him.
Under her diligent questioning and repeated hammer swings, the cultist spilled everything he knew. He was only a recent recruit. What surprised Alba was that he really did possess a strange power, enough to corrode a wooden crate nearby into nothing.
What he said next made her scalp prickle. The ritual was meant to call down a projection of a god of slowing and swelling, and it had already begun. Hearing that, Alba felt her stomach drop.
"Damn it. Did I really run into the real thing?"