Bang!
Another gunshot rang out. It was Eve, Hector's companion, who had previously lured the cultists away. Having shaken off the ten cultists who had been pursuing her, she reloaded her flintlock rifle and rushed back.
Though a single bullet seemed pointless—the ritual disruption had failed, and immediate escape was the wisest course—Eve had returned with grim determination, fully prepared to die.
The sharp gunshot shattered the silence like a signal. The previously still cultists began to stir, and Eve shouted, "Hector, run!"
But what happened next defied her expectations. Instead of attacking her or Hector, the cultists were instantly bisected at the waist the moment they moved.
The dim lighting and Eve's position on the periphery prevented her from seeing what was happening at the center of the ritual, let alone the sudden appearance of the tea-haired girl.
Hector, however, had a clear view. The girl, who looked no older than eleven or twelve and had seemingly materialized from thin air, gently raised her right hand, her lips parting slightly as if whispering something. In that instant, every cultist who moved died horribly!
The scene was utterly horrifying. Hector watched in disbelief as the cultist who had been restraining him, unharmed while motionless, was instantly decapitated the moment he released Hector and lifted his leg to move. Blood gushed from the severed neck as if sliced by an invisible blade.
The other cultists met similar fates. They were safe while still, but the instant they stirred, they were beheaded, bisected at the waist, or split vertically in half.
Even the Cultist Leader—the man Hector called "the Corrupted," who had presided over the ritual—was not spared. He had barely raised his grotesque, tumorous arm when his entire body was diced into several pieces. His severed head rolled across the ground, muttering in bewildered confusion, "How... how is this possible?"
In less than half a minute, all thirty to forty cultists present were dead. The arena was strewn with mangled corpses and filled with the acrid stench of blood.
Hector stood frozen in shock, reliving the carnage. He dared not move, terrified that he would be next. "Th-this..."
The Herta Puppet stood calmly at the center of the ritual. The situation was simple: the cultists, realizing their ritual had failed and a mysterious Herta Puppet had suddenly appeared, were filled with malice and hostility. They instinctively blamed the puppet for sabotaging their plans.
Anyone would be enraged if their meticulously prepared plans were ruined at the last moment, let alone these deranged cultists. The sheer intensity of their animosity naturally triggered the puppet's self-defense system.
The Herta Puppet then unleashed a Wind attribute magic spell it had secretly learned from the Queen of Great Britain. In truth, this spell could have instantly annihilated all the cultists present. The half-minute delay was due to the puppet's fundamental programming.
It was designed to attack only those who harbored hostile intent. At the precise moment the cultists moved, their hatred for the puppet reached its peak as they prepared to strike. The invisible Wind Blades, combined with the dim lighting, made them nearly impossible to detect. Hector, suddenly realizing the danger, shouted:
"Eve, don't move! Those cultists have summoned an Evil God's Familiar! One wrong step and it will kill you instantly!"
Why would the Evil God's Familiar kill the very cultists who summoned it? Well, isn't that just typical?
"Wh-what?!" Eve, standing on the periphery, froze in place upon hearing this.
The Herta Puppet, having also heard the warning, involuntarily glanced up at Hector. This small movement instantly sent a cold sweat down his back.
As both sides stood locked in a tense stalemate, a ghastly wind howled through the air. The severed corpses on the ground seemed to come back to life, and the Pentagram Formation beneath the puppet's feet pulsed with an even more terrifying light.
In truth, the cultists' ritual hadn't failed at all. On the contrary, it had succeeded—and thanks to the abundance of corpses, its power had been amplified beyond measure.
All the corpses and blood on the ground slowly floated into the air, coalescing into a massive, dripping sphere of flesh. The grotesque mass began to twitch rhythmically, like a giant, beating heart.
Thump...Thump...Thump...
The deafening drum-like heartbeats reverberated in everyone's ears.
Hector and Eve stared in stunned silence. Unlike the Herta Puppet, which was already an "Evil God's Familiar," the pulsating sphere of flesh before them was undeniably more terrifying—at least in appearance.
Hector's face turned deathly pale. "This is it... How could two Evil God's Familiars be summoned at once?!"
A chilling aura of dread emanated from the grotesque mass. But in the next instant, the Herta Puppet raised its small hand again, casting the same spell. Countless Wind Blades erupted, tearing the flesh orb to shreds!
Hector stared blankly. "Huh?"
As a genuine Evil God's Familiar, the flesh orb must have been constantly radiating malevolence, which the Puppet detected and... annihilated in an instant.
Hector's mind reeled. What just happened? Did I just witness one Evil God's Familiar obliterate another?!
Huh?
Is that even possible?
Does that make any sense?
While Hector was still reeling, Herta Herself, at the heart of the cult ritual, finally entered the Otherworld Dimensional Rift. When she opened her eyes, she found herself surrounded by a landscape littered with mangled corpses and bloody remains.
The bloody scene sent a jolt through Herta's heart. Oh no, how long has it been? Has my Puppet already killed so many people?
She quickly placed her hand on the Puppet's small head, checking its memories. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief. Okay, they were just Cultists. That's fine then.
Unbeknownst to her, this seemingly innocuous gesture startled Hector even more.
He already knew that this child-like monster was an Evil God's Familiar, possessing terrifying power. He also knew that the earlier mass of flesh had been another Familiar of the Flesh God, and that the two had clashed, suggesting they weren't allies.
Now, a mysterious woman had suddenly appeared, casually stroking the Puppet's head. Given the striking resemblance between them, the woman's identity seemed glaringly obvious.
Could this be a new Evil God incarnate?!