Capítulo 1743: Chapter 1738: Bitter Fruit (32)
The offspring cannot represent themselves; although their behavior is extre, their reasoning holds so truth.
The white dress is torn, and blood and flesh are splattered.
Sara’s ntal state is indeed more agitated than usual, and her frenzied self-mutilation actions co suddenly.
Unfortunately, Fu Qian smoothly sidesteps in near synchrony, using the other face on his shoulder to block the spraying blood, without getting a drop on himself.
No choice; the change might be sudden, but for a professional like him who’s accustod to abnormality, it hardly causes any ntal shock.
It appears that Sara isn’t just preparing for a spiritual attack.
When her abdon is torn open, no more strange things erge.
However, with this action, it’s as if a switch is pressed, causing Ms. Sarah’s body to start expanding rapidly, evenly and swiftly like an ergency slide on an airplane.
At this mont, her expansion index definitely won’t lose to that thing.
In the blink of an eye, the passage, which wasn’t spacious to begin with, is fully stuffed.
Besides the giant face almost pressed against him, it’s easy to imagine Sara’s other body parts stretching considerably in the dark passage, like a cork plugging it inside.
Heh…
It seems the person hasn’t completely lost consciousness; in the next mont, the giant mouth slightly opens, emitting a sound seemingly interpretable as laughter.
Before Fu Qian can respond, the mass of fat and flesh seems to lose enough friction support, smoothly “flowing” down.
It’s even like being stuffed too tightly; the skin is pulled out in gashes.
Examining the mixture of sothing like butter and blood seeping out, the crying in Fu Qian’s consciousness becos intense again.
…
So, is this the way to trap oneself below?
It indeed aligns with the aim of exhausting every power to prevent oneself from running into darkness.
The last ti Sara played a role, it was pretending to invite him out, actually serving as a counter-example to scare him away with a tragic end, an effective ntal attack.
But after one failure, the sa thod is clearly impossible to use again.
Dorian’s choice is simple: almost lay bare to utilize the gift on Sara, switching to a more physical thod to obstruct.
Though this thod is a bit too physical.
Fu Qian feels he can sowhat study fluid dynamics on that body.
At the mont, the latter is still proliferating, already spilling from the stairs as if stuffing this underground space with sausage filling.
However, luckily, the speed is limited, leaving so room to dodge for the ti being.
The troubling part is the crying in his mind, rising again.
It’s not that Hilary’s influence is being suppressed, allowing the crying to be heard again.
The previous influence doesn’t weaken at all, even accumulating to new heights—just the extent of the crying’s growth is more exaggerated.
At one point, Fu Qian almost felt it was a God crying at him, rather than offspring.
And the resulting effect, apart from the growing difficulty in controlling consciousness amidst the dual tearing, there’s even—
Poof!
Stepping back to let the Sara flow onto him slowly, Fu Qian turns around and thrusts his left chest.
This ti, he extracts not a viscous blood clot, but a pulsing heart.
Sizzle!
The other hand isn’t idle either, instantly reaching into the bloody hole in the chest and pulling out a blood clot several tis larger than the heart.
Indeed, just like the crying surpassed the dream boundary, the curse it brought is the sa.
Monts ago, with the deafening cry, the strength of Heart Strike also surged.
Thankfully, for a professional like him, a change in target purged the Heart Strike temporarily.
Casually returning the heart inside, Fu Qian examines the “mouth” in the mass ahead.
Clearly, the latter can’t emit aningful syllables.
“Well said!”
No worries, I can speak.
With thunderous approval of Sara’s earlier statent, Fu Qian’s full-powered Gospel Blast locks onto and blows her away.
Crying from the real Divine Beings? Then cry even louder for .
…
Indeed, it’s louder.
The Gospel, which could enlighten essential spirituality, is truly extraordinary.
In that instant, the cry in consciousness surges again, seemingly overpowering even Hilary’s montum.
Roar—
Simultaneously, a painful, frenzied howl erges from that deford giant mouth, forming a duet outside consciousness.
Seems like it’s still not working.
Though as Fu Qian attentively listens amidst discomfort, he finally delivers a pessimistic conclusion.
Such actions aren’t due to sadism, but when that cry seemingly from a Superior Being erged, he did expect a bit.
This high-ranking, piercing power from the self; could it perhaps offer a breakthrough to the current predicant?
This operation was initially his and Dorian’s ambitious pursuit; he needed all ans to handle himself, and he needed all ans from him.
Unfortunately, with such smooth developnt, the gift Sara brought ultimately seems ordinary.
It’s indeed a significant threat, but fundantally it’s just potent power in his parallel space.
Bang—
And it seems that’s its limit.
With a dull explosion, the surging fleshy oil bursts forth.
Under the eerie calm post-Gospel Blast, Sara can endure no more and explodes.
And amidst the exceedingly unpleasant odor, Fu Qian is naturally first to bear the brunt with no escape.
Nonetheless, his face remains virtually unaffected, as he cleverly uses the “high collar” on both shoulders to block it.
Not that there aren’t special ways to avoid, like Blood Conquest.
But in doing so, both Hilarys would probably fall, forcing a termination of dual chanting, which he wouldn’t be pleased to see.
And monts later, as the blockage ahead flows down to his feet, Fu Qian shakes himself off and ascends with resolution.
No dawn seen, still need effort.
In theory, there should be three—no, four people left in the cathedral above.
With continuous ascent, gradually clearer perception brings an unexpected yet anticipated ssage.
As he steps onto the last level of steps, once more stained, Fu Qian naturally casts his gaze toward a previously vacant spot.
Long hair, male, unfamiliar, high cheekbones.
Sitting almost symtrically positioned to the man with the felt hat, his body stiffened with fear-induced paralysis.
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