"Great Lord of the Border Prison..."
"Enemy of the Gods! Enemy of the Gods!"
"Homage to the rciful and holy Lord! King of Hell!"
The chaotic voices gradually beca clear.
Just by opening the window, one could hear the gradually majestic sound waves, and even, surges of people like tides, rising and falling in worship.
A sea of blackness.
Like refugees on the run, the worshippers, who had endured great hardships, crossed the extrely long distance, evaded the church's pursuit, passed through weird realms sprouting from dreams, and finally jumped down the scar, falling into the Gate of Hell.
They cared not if their clothes were ragged, nor if their bodies were incomplete...
After abandoning the gods, they did not hesitate to worship the devil.
Craftily fallen, yet seeking no wealth, nor any condition.
They wanted to die.
They wanted nothing.
Just wanted to die... to completely end it all, to die thoroughly.
Upon realizing the true existence of death, they could not contain their excitent, and in their dried-up, shattered consciousness, the last tears fell, mingling with blood, dripping onto the ground.
Having already attained eternal life, they still so desperately sought an end.
It wasn't just the pilgrims; most sinners, tornted and burned, also crawled on the ground, pleading for the Lord of the Border Prison's rcy and cruelty.
They only wished for death.
Ji Jue remained silent, gazing at everything.
For a long ti, he spoke not a word.
Having walked so resolutely all this way, why then this craving for death? Couldn't such determination be used elsewhere?
Why couldn't they stand up and resist?
At this point, saying such crap is like a fool who asks why they don't eat at.
Not everything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but it certainly leaves scars, webbing across the face like limbs, becoming gradually crippled.
When everything becos unrecognizable, how can one crawl out of the mire?
In seeking release from a nightmare one cannot awaken from, what is the fault?
When those who have died open their eyes again, encountering Rebirth, in their hearts they feel incomparable gratitude and joy, but when discovering the essence of faith and prayer, they find inescapable despair.
The rampant Fallen Holy Seal and the rise of the Border Prison rely accelerated the entire process.
Seeing those beside them, who prayed day and night, gradually lost themselves, beca faceless shells, or were captured for spreading heresy, and disappeared.
Either bow their heads in prayer, enduring the continual loss of self, gradually becoming empty shells devoid of joy and anger, or, like those madn, imrse themselves in the temptations of Paradise, go completely insane, and beco fanatics like poisonous insects.
Or abandon prayer, have their limbs cut off, hang to be humiliated, or even, as sinners, cast into the Border Prison.
After decades of burning and tornt, even if the body could regenerate, while the soul could still be considered whole, consciousness and selfhood had long since disintegrated.
In the end, so-called immortality and Rebirth were rely more terrifying despair.
Throughout these many years, under the Holy God's dominion, believers powerless to resist bowed their heads like cattle and sheep, repeatedly greeted by endless harvesting.
Not even afforded a chance to resist.
Plunging into the abyss again and again, after despairing ti after ti, the only thing people craved was relief.
Thus they turned their backs on Heaven, willingly seeking Hell.
They wanted to die, they wanted to die.
Pleading, let die.
It doesn't matter what you make do, as long as I can die...
Thus faithful, they once again prayed.
To another 'god.'
Ji Jue watched quietly, unmoved, and gave no response.
He rely looked away indifferently.
Gods are no more generous than devils.
Where in this world is there free redemption and release?
.
.
Such familiar scenes, as if seen before.
In the groggy haze of drunkenness, Wen Wen stared at those prostrating figures pleading for rcy, and in a mont of distraction, finally rembered.
Where had she seen such a scene?
On the discarded brothers and sisters from before...
Simply because progress was insufficient, rely talent lacking, or secretly slacking off, not becoming the obedient good child.
Betraying expectations, hence losing affection.
Becoming a bad example for everyone.
"Kill ... kill ..."
In the mud, the wriggling boy choked, wailing: "Please... please..."
"A little touch and it breaks, how pitiful." Wen Sheng looked down, kicked the barely living shell at his feet, smirking: "See, just like a bug..."
Wen Wen said nothing, expressionless.
Watching him lift his foot and crush that tear-stained face into powder.
"What's the matter, are you angry?"
Wen Sheng, puzzled, tilted his head and looked over, full of doubt: "Haven't you been acting stranger lately?"
Wen Wen still said nothing, ignoring her brother's mockery.
She turned to leave.
As if running away.
Until the little girl following her summoned her courage and tugged at her sleeve: "Sister, if one day, would you kill too?"
Wen Wen still didn't speak.
As she lowered her head, looking into that face unable to hide its panic, she realized she had no answer.
Just inexplicably recalling once again that child thrown into the incinerator.
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