I planted a sacred tree in Tokyo.

Chapter 537 A Saint Who Is Not a Saint

"You guys again?!"

From the lava lake, the 'Flame Lord' Mannoroth, sensing the powerful aura, surfaced and glared angrily at the white dragon in the sky.

"Come down and fight the mighty Mannoroth!"

"Instead of hiding in the sky like a coward and spying on my territory!"

"Is this Flame Lord provoking us, or is he truly displaying martial prowess?"

On the back of the white dragon, Xiaoying straightened the fox mask on her face. Although the method of attacking with 'trees' was unique in the world, the necessary disguise still had to be done; in Yujun's words, this was called 'ritual'.

"It doesn't matter, anyway—"

As Sora raised her hand, the magnetic field power of Amaterasu's daughter, Tagihime-no-Mikoto, was quietly released.

It wasn't used to control the metal, but rather to restrain the 'Flame Lord' below.

"Um?!"

The lava lake rippled with layers of 'waves' because of the invisible 'magnetic field' squeezing it.

only--

"You think your mere magnetism can bind me?"

The Flame Lord in the lava lake shook his arms, forcibly breaking free from the invisible magnetic restraints!

Boom! ! !
Amidst the churning lava, the colossal 'Fire Lord' reached down with both hands.

He pulled a black and red double-headed spear from the lava: the spear shaft, as thick as a giant pillar, was incredibly heavy, and the huge cracked blade exuded a bloody and savage aura.

Heavy, ferocious, wild, and powerful!
This is his 'innate spell', which allows him to compress and condense lava into weapons or equipment.

As a 'Flame Lord', it would be too uncool to fight bare-handed: although it is essentially just the 'Rock Fist Technique' of Earth Release, with the support of powerful chakra and magic, it is a powerful skill that can beat up a tailed beast.

"A mere mortal dares to provoke a 'Flame Lord'!"

boom! !

Its enormous body emerged completely from the lava, and its tattered bat wings suddenly spread open and flapped forcefully.

"I will take you all—"

Compared to the massive body of this 'Flame Lord', his pair of 'bat wings' on his back appeared extremely small, and looked more like 'decorations' than anything else.

However, with a flap of his wings, his massive body soared into the sky! Even though his tattered bat wings seemed so incongruous, and even though his bulky body was practically rubbing 'aerodynamics' against the ground, this 'Fire Lord' still took flight.

Moreover, it flew quite fast, its massive body nimbly tracing an arc, and pointed its double-headed spear at Qiongmei and Xiaoying.

"Burn to ashes!!!"

Blazing white light shot out from his spear, the thick beam of light slicing straight toward the two 'mysterious men' on the dragon's back; once it hit, the continuous beam of light could heat objects up at a rate of thousands of degrees Celsius per second, and at such a high temperature, almost no matter could withstand it.

Of course, this only means that we cannot withstand it, not that we cannot cope with it: human laboratories can even create temperatures of hundreds of millions of degrees.

"Hmph, White Dragon—"

As Qiong Mei pointed her finger, the white dragon beneath her feet immediately opened its mouth to retaliate, and the white 'torrent' clashed head-on.

This so-called 'white torrent' is essentially a collection of countless tiny bombs; when they collide with the intense light, they immediately explode.

Boom boom boom boom boom! ! !
The continuous explosions formed a 'shield' that collided with the intense light.

On one side, the explosions were deafening, with hundreds of explosions every second; on the other side, there was a cold silence, with beams of light, essentially electromagnetic radiation, shooting straight ahead.

One side is the white of clay, the other is the white of sunlight.

"Ok?"

Mannoroth, the 'Flame Lord' with the lower body of a giant elephant, the tail of a crocodile, and the upper body of a burly demon, was taken aback.

Although his opponent was not weak, the essence of his power was a level below, and theoretically he could not possibly compare with the light that came from the 'Creator'. However, in reality, the two were evenly matched!

This is?

The Flame Lord's burning eyes swept across the center of the clash between the two beams of light;
They saw a large amount of material resembling 'ice crystals' scatter and fly everywhere, only to be shattered by the aftershocks of the attacks from both sides.

The scattered crystal fragments scattered everywhere, and in an instant they exploded into clusters of light and heat that were much more dazzling and scorching than the surrounding environment.

"It actually absorbed my power and then released it?"

That's right. Qiong Mei used 'Magnetic Release' to bind and compress the light, temporarily turning it into a 'solid' state and scattering it out, causing it to explode around her, thereby dispersing the opponent's attack power. At first glance, it sounds very high-tech, but in essence, it is the same principle as normal people sweating to dissipate heat.

Of course, being able to do this proves that:

"mortal--"

Having failed to achieve his goal, the Flame Lord's body trembled and billowed with flames.

"How dare you covet the power of the Creator?!"

The fire lord named 'Manolos' had already realized that although the opponent's power was inferior, it was essentially imitating the power of the 'Creator'.

Last time it was just an explosion, this time it has the added ability of binding.
He was clearly trying to steal this power by fighting against himself.

Unforgivable!

"You're courting death!"

This was the ultimate insult to the 'Flame Lord'.

"Hmph, even the 'creator' you speak of has no objections, so why should you, a lava puppy, bark?"

Qiong Mei wasn't just surfing the internet for nothing; she immediately retorted.

"Roar----!!"

These words enraged the 'Flame Lord,' causing his entire body to erupt in flames; the blazing white light continuously pulsed, like a small sun that seemed about to explode on the spot.

I never expected you, Xiao Qiong, to say such 'strong words'.
The scene before my eyes,
Xiao Ying, who was standing next to her, secretly complained.

Fortunately, although their opponent's abilities countered both of them, the difference in their overall strength wasn't too significant. In other words:

Even if we can't win in a two-on-one situation, at least we can protect ourselves.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"What am I?"

On the dark altar, the refined young man Luigi slowly awoke.

The searchlights on his power armor had been turned off, because the building had no windows, so he was surrounded by pure darkness—yet strangely, even in this pitch black, Luigi could see everything clearly.

That's right, even though he knew it was absolute darkness around him, his eyes still 'saw' everything.

The altar beneath him, the colossal statue in front of him, and behind him—

The mutated prisoner continues to kowtow and worship.

"There's something wrong with my health,"

Standing up, Luigi quickly understood the problem.

Since that being has decided to bestow its 'gift,' there is no option to refuse it. He is now:
Luigi reached out and grabbed the 'Explorer IV' power armor, which had lost all power and was now cold and heavy, and exerted a little force.

Gaa gaa gaa

The sound of metal being torn apart rang out.

Even if the Holy Church's logistics department cut corners, it was still steel after all. However, in Luigi's hands, it was like a paper toy. He casually removed the welded armor and threw it on the ground.

"Have I become a 'monster' too?"

Do not!
He was just slightly distracted.

The young man's gaze hardened once more in the darkness.

"If I can still think rationally, then 'I' have not changed at all!" I think, therefore I am. This is the proposition of the philosopher Descartes: thought can doubt external objects, and it can doubt objects within thought, but it cannot doubt itself.

"Now faith is the substance of things hoped for and the assurance of things not seen. If you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done on the fig tree, but you can also say to this mountain, 'Move away from here,' and throw yourself into the sea, and it will be done."

The scriptures Luigi recited were what he had learned from childhood to adulthood, and they were his life's principles, but in fact:
“I do not believe in the Lord, nor do I expect the Lord to save me.”

In the darkness, the young man muttered to himself.

That's right,

He did not believe in Yahweh!

He practices the principles, wisdom, and righteousness of the Bible; not the one hanging on the cross, nor the same—

“I will not believe in you, Father of the sea.”

Even after being granted power, Luigi neither rejoiced nor prostrated himself in fear, remaining as before:
Looking up at the towering statue, above its fleshy robe were eyes perched atop tentacles.

However, the statue remained silent.

It was as if they were mocking his resistance, or perhaps admiring it all.

To put knowledge into practice is truly the way of a saint in the world.

"Then, next."

With extraordinary power surging within him, Luigi looked at the twisted monster that was bowing in worship.

"Perhaps I can."

He stepped forward and reached out, landing on the monstrous head, a mixture of metal and flesh, barely qualifying as a head.

"May your soul find rest, may sickness and weakness have no power over you, and may you be forgiven of sin and guilt."

As Luigi gently stroked it, the monster, which had only been bowing, paused and fell silent.

Goodbye, my friend.

Stepping over the monster's corpse, Luigi walked toward the door in the darkness.

Boom~~
The door opened automatically, and multicolored light shone on his face.

With sculpted features, a head of black curly hair exuding an elegant, scholarly air, and a crisp, clean orange prison uniform, the 'reborn' young man stepped out of the church bathed in light.

No matter what changes occur in his body, as long as his soul remains uncorrupted, he is still himself.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Somewhere in the chaotic city,
"Damn it, what are those things? Fishmen?!"

In the dim and distorted city, several prisoners huddled in a building, their power armor riddled with ripped marks, looking as if some kind of ferocious beast had slashed their armor with its claws.

But as the old saying goes: steel is steel.

Neither lions, tigers, brown bears, nor elephants could do such a thing: the claws and teeth of carbon-based life forms were not designed to tear apart steel.

Except for extraordinary beings!

"Those things should be called 'Deep Divers,' right?"

Another prisoner scratched his head, his bloodstained armor now a dried, dark red.

This blood is, of course, his: thanks to the armor's automatic adrenaline and clotting agents, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to escape here.

"A fish's head, a human body, scales, a dorsal fin, and the fact that it appeared in this city."

The prisoner next to him nodded as well.

If the people of the Sea Kingdom are seven parts human and three parts fish, then what they encountered before were seven parts fish and three parts human.

"It is indeed the 'Deep Diver'."

The Deep Ones are legendary monsters.

They are a marine humanoid race with fish-like features and near-eternal lifespan; legend has it that they worship their leader, the father god Dagon, and the mother goddess Hydra, as well as the great 'Father of the Sea'.

This is R'lyeh, it's normal for 'Deepborn' to appear here, but:
Why are you chasing us?!

Is it too late for me to convert to the "Holy Church" now?

“Go and talk to those ‘deep divers’ and see if they believe you!”

After their initial outburst of anger, the prisoners fell silent; if they could, they would immediately embrace the 'Father of the Sea' without any psychological burden.

But the reality is, they don't accept these 'believers' at all! Or rather, does that person really need believers?

“I remember that even the ‘Deep Ones’ weren’t exactly true believers.”

"That person's followers are members of the Star Familia."

Some prisoners tried to find amusement in their suffering by belittling their enemies to make them feel better.

Tap tap tap,

"Who?!"

Just then, footsteps approached from afar.

"stop--"

"Who comes from where?"

"Aim, prepare to fire!"

Several prisoners suddenly stood up, looked towards the building's entrance, and raised their guns to aim: although the Glock 36 pistols in their hands were not very powerful, they were still better than fighting bare-handed.

"Calm down, gentlemen."

As the other party drew closer, the prisoners finally managed to make out who it was, thanks to the eerie light in the sky.

"Luigi?!"

Amidst the mutated screams, there was no joy, no happiness, only fear.

"you you you."

Whether it was good luck or bad luck, these prisoners were the very people who had escaped from that church.

As they watched the young man approaching, their trembling faces showed guilt, horror, terror, and despair, but no positive emotions whatsoever.

"Don't get agitated, I haven't turned into a monster."

The young man, dressed in orange, spread his hands forward, indicating that he posed no threat.

"I--"

Just then, a twisted shadow emerged from behind him.

???

"Wait, don't shoot, he's not an enemy."

Noticing the gun barrels raised again by the prisoners, Luigi looked at the distorted shadow beside him and suddenly realized what was going on.

"He is... well, in a sense, a part of what Taylor left behind."

The name Taylor is that of the prisoner who mutated in the church.

? ? ? ?
You still say you're not a monster?!
As Luigi raised his hand to touch the distorted shadow, and the shadow's tentacles danced 'comfortably,' several prisoners instinctively squeezed their legs together, feeling a surge of urge to urinate rushing to their brains.

Compared to those twisted monsters, the seemingly 'normal' Luigi in front of him was far more chilling.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

P.S.: I'm going back to my hometown for the Chinese New Year, so updates will probably only be around 4,000 words these few days; by the way, I wish everyone a happy Lunar New Year's Eve in advance!
(End of this chapter)