Necromancer, summoning 055? What the heck?

Chapter 532 Lightning Falls, Miracle Reappears, the Imminent Judgment

Belial was fully prepared for the possibility of being hunted down by the Seraphim.

Although he had only been on Earth for a short time, Belial was able to clearly understand what kind of people these guys were from various information channels on Earth.

To put it bluntly, the "Fan Clan" is not actually an ethnic group, but a special category of entities.

They are a group of greedy people from the so-called civilized world who have taken over the nation that they have given the halo of victimhood, while taking full advantage of the religious doctrines that are most beneficial to their wanton plunder.

Everything I can seize is a promise.

If we were to find a counterpart for these guys in the Starry World, they would be as greedy as dwarves and as brutal as goblins.

Therefore, from the moment Belial officially displayed his divine power, he knew very well that he had become a target for these guys.

But these guys aren't completely reckless.

They viewed the people of the three continents and five seas as ants, and the people of the Black and Yellow continents as pigs and dogs, but they still maintained some basic respect for the truly powerful nations.

For example, when some environmental activists repeatedly cause them trouble, all they do is arrest and repatriate them, without resorting to their most proficient method of killing.

Therefore, Belial had prepared some protective charms for himself in advance.

The day after his "miracle in public," several well-known white social activists and social media personalities rushed to Anchor City, attempting to observe this "witness" preaching up close.

This made the attack by the Sanchuang tribe somewhat clumsy.

It's not that they're afraid to kill, but that they feel it's not worth it.

Capitalists, for the sake of economic value, can ignore all principles and justice, and for their own benefit, they can also lead the country into utter ruin without hesitation.

And so, all the inhabitants of Earth were able to listen to Belial's two-day sermon in relative peace.

Then, some people simply couldn't stand it anymore.

What nonsense is this guy spouting?
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.

As the morning light of the second day climbed over the broken walls of the ruins, the sunlight slanted across the remaining stone pillars of the Abpolim Scripture Hall, casting straight shadows on the ground like those of a sundial.

Beria gently brushed the dust off his white robe, his voice soft and melodious.

"Yesterday, a confused child asked me..."

“Witnesses, if God could stop the bomb, why was my home destroyed? Why did my father and brothers, my closest relatives, die in the explosion without God’s protection?”

This question clearly touched many people, and many sorrowful eyes in the crowd looked up at Beria in the wheelchair.

Beria paused for a moment, then spoke slowly.

"I will tell you the answer."

"Yesterday's salvation was not the salvation of God, but my own salvation as a witness."

"The Supreme God is neither your bodyguard nor mine!"

"I'm not your bodyguard either!"

"I was just saving myself when I happened to shelter you all!"

A noticeable commotion arose in the crowd; no one had expected such an answer.

"Therefore, you should worship the highest God, but you should not expect the God's protection."

“You should follow the divine agents on earth, and you should follow the benevolent rulers of the world. They will uphold the will of our Lord and protect you.”

Belial's hand gently stroked the vine staff, and a crystalline white light shone around the Lord of Twilight.

"The supreme God says—faith in me will give you the power to protect yourselves!"

The main theme of this sermon has deviated somewhat from traditional doctrines, but it is still basically within the range that some religious leaders can tolerate.

Furthermore, because it explained to some extent why the gods did not punish the sinners or stop the bloody wars, it was tantamount to further transferring authority to the priests in the lower realms on behalf of the gods, and it even gained the approval of some clergy.

However, those who are often deceived know that the initial small reward is just a way to lure you into a trap.

When these priests echoed Belial's words to some extent, essentially giving Belial a tacit endorsement, and thus using Belial's sermons to enhance their own prestige, believing they could mutually benefit from Belial's teachings, Belial's next words began to slowly undermine their foundations.

After all, once the right to interpret scriptures is given away, it's very difficult to take it back unless the other party makes a serious mistake.

You all agree that Belial is right, so who will be the "human representative" and what constitutes "benevolent rule" is up to the Lord of Twilight.

At noon on the second day, Beria's first strike, taking a roundabout approach, targeted the religious system's money-making schemes.

The midday sun was scorching, and waves of heat rose from the stone slabs of the ruins, flowing back and forth in the air and slightly distorting the distant mountains.

But the ruins of the Abolirim Scripture Hall remain cool and serene.

Beria's voice was more relaxed than in the morning, even carrying a hint of languor.

"You may have heard many wise men say that those who worship the gods will be blessed, while those who blaspheme the gods will be punished."

"You should make offerings to the gods with devotion, so that the temples of the gods may be magnificent and the servants of the gods may be respectable."

"You're wrong!"

"These are the demands that your 'servants' make on you, not the demands that the gods make on you?"

"The supreme god is omnipotent, so why would he need the money you offer?"

"As a witness to the Most High God, I don't need it!"

Beria was very thorough in upholding the principle of not accepting money.

In recent days, many local believers, after experiencing the wonder of his preaching, have brought various offerings, including gold and silver ornaments, real currency, exquisitely hand-woven blankets, jars of fine olive oil, and even some cattle and sheep.

Beria didn't even glance at it, and without hesitation threw it into the ongoing distribution of food, and made the name of the donor public.

This solidified his identity as a divine witness.

But what he said was rather alarming.

"You should acquire more money honestly, and use it to strengthen your bodies, nourish your spirits, enrich your knowledge, and take care of your families!"

"The devout believers of God deserve to eat sweeter food, wear more beautiful clothes, use more convenient utensils, and live in more spacious houses!"

"If you do not insult others, you deserve a better life!"

This isn't just throwing away your rice bowl, it's practically flipping the table!

Not only could the priests not listen, the capitalists not listen, but even many people in Dongxia, which was most friendly to the lower classes, could not listen.

It's just that not many people in Dongxia know the truth about Belial. Otherwise, the higher-ups in Dongxia might have been unable to resist submitting a petition requesting that this guy be silenced.

The work Belial is doing now is something that even loyal warriors from the Eastern Xia region probably couldn't accomplish to this extent, because the impact is too vast, putting him in direct opposition to almost 99.99% of the interest groups.

The reason there is still 0.01% is because, among the population, there are still a few individuals with a great spirit of dedication.

So, what was the purpose of Beria's "intense" interpretation of the scriptures?

Of course, it's all for the purpose of spreading his "Tao".

What he said is undoubtedly beneficial to the people. Whether the officials like to hear it or not, it is certainly something that ordinary believers like to hear.

No one said this in the past because it lacked credibility for ordinary people, and clergy with inflammatory power, being within the religious system, could not say it.

Belial, this divine witness who appeared out of nowhere, had absolutely no such concerns.

According to Beria's interpretation, if the people have more income, they can pursue a better life, which would inevitably lead to the use of more industrial products.
On this blue planet, who provides the most cost-effective industrial products?
To be honest, only Beria would do something like this: take on an entire street of gangsters and police just to sell a few more bars of soap in his shop.

The elderly men at Cihang were left speechless, both amused and exasperated.

Subsequently, Belial became increasingly unrestrained in his behavior.

For example, during the scripture interpretation session after the sermon, a middle-aged woman covered up except for her eyes stood up timidly and asked in a low voice, "Respected witness, why aren't you wearing a tall hat?"

According to the customs of the five seas, believers must wear long hats, especially female believers, who must cover themselves completely.

Beria chuckled.

"The High God instructed the people of this land to wear long hats to help them withstand the scorching sun and the sandstorms of this land."

"To keep you healthy and free from illness."

"The hood itself is not the preference of the Supreme God."

“In every scripture you recite, the gods only tell you to protect your bodies; they never require you to wear tall hats or cover your faces!”

"there has never been!"

“Wearing a hat is a sign of divine mercy, not a divine constraint.”

"Therefore, if you wear it, you are believers in the Most High God; if I don't wear it, I am also a believer in the Most High God!"

A long silence fell over the crowd.

Such unconventionality is, yet surprisingly, reasonable.

Another old man with a full beard stood up shakily. His left leg was broken, and he was supported by a rough wooden stick.

“Witness, I… my hometown has been occupied, my fields have been taken away, my house has collapsed, and my three sons have all died!”

"The priest told me that the suffering in this life will turn into blessings in the next life. Is that true?"

Beria was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head resolutely, his voice firm and unwavering.

"The Most High God says, if you cannot hold onto this life, you will also be unable to grasp the next!"

"The cause of the past will become the effect of the future; yesterday's lamb will not grow into tomorrow's calf."

"Those who tell you that you will be compensated in the next life do so because they do not want to give you justice in this life."

"You should believe that you are not livestock, and that you deserve a better life."

The old man's lips trembled violently. He slowly, slowly knelt down, his forehead pressing against the broken stone slab, leaving bloody wounds.

These words, spoken by a "divine messenger," had immense power. They swept through most religious countries like a tidal wave in a very short time, and even spread wildly among non-believers.

Countless people debated, questioned, were angry, and were moved in the comments section, but more than anything, they felt an indescribable sense of resonance.

With each unorthodox speech that unexpectedly resonated with the deep needs of the lower-class believers, Beria began to face a storm of verbal attacks.

In fact, many of the traditions of a religion are no longer related to its founder.

Those seemingly profound and mysterious things—how to dress, how to eat, what taboos—have become rituals used by the system's controllers to maintain the system, distinguish between friend and foe, and strengthen internal unity.

How could they tolerate Beria spouting such nonsense?

Religious authorities issued a variety of urgent statements refuting Beria's "heretical remarks" point by point, accusing him of "distorting the scriptures" and "misleading people."

The harshness of the wording and the intensity of the tone indicated that he was clearly furious.

Whether it was due to someone's instigation or because Beria's "misinterpretation" made some die-hard believers uncomfortable, their questions became increasingly pointed.

For example: "Respected witness, why can't you stand? Is it because you misinterpreted scripture and have been punished by God?"

The moment this question was raised, the atmosphere at the scene suddenly became tense.

Beria nodded frankly, seemingly oblivious to the other party's reproach and offense.

"Yes, I was punished."

"But this has nothing to do with the meaning of the scriptures; it's just that I myself went astray in the past."

“The supreme God punished me, but still gave me the opportunity to continue serving a great being.”

"This is the greatest honor of my life."

The elderly men from Cihang once again exclaimed in admiration.

It is said that the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences in Dongxia, which knows the inside story, has recently opened a professional internal analysis course—On Beria's Art of Language Expression.

In short, in just two short days, this witness named Beria has evoked both love and hate from countless people.

He preached recklessly and expounded scriptures wildly. While praising the supreme deity to the extreme, he also mercilessly lashed out at those evil butchers, greedy villains, hypocritical justice, and bloodsucking worldly affairs...

One second it makes some people overjoyed, the next it makes others furious.

The leader of the Shan tribe, that guy with a naturally devilish face, completely broke down.

He publicly announced the beheading.

The announcement clearly stated that this blasphemous individual would be subject to precise strikes and targeted elimination by the instigators.

We have already informed you in advance that unrelated persons should stay away from this guy's location; otherwise, you will be solely responsible for any consequences arising from the attack.

In short, stay away from him, or you'll die for nothing.

After receiving the notification, Beria used the last few minutes to deliver his final sermon.

The bright sunshine of one moment turned into dark clouds in the next. The wind blew across the ruins, and the hem of Belial's robe kept slapping against the armrest of his wheelchair, making a "slap slap" sound.

"The gods say that there is evil in this world."

“Those who commit murder and arson, those who seize land, those who use the corpses of your relatives as fertilizer, they are pure evil.”

"They are followers of the devil, believers of Satan!"

"They're coming to kill me now."

"You should stay away, lest you be drawn into this war between light and darkness!"

"You have your lives, and I have my destiny!"

"Go on, go on, everyone disperse."

The believers, who had already experienced a miracle, refused to leave, but Beria was not going to tolerate them.

Scrolls that can protect against bombs are too expensive; we certainly can't waste them like that.

He ordered his mercenaries to forcibly disperse the crowd, and of course, he also sent the mercenaries away, setting up a safety perimeter around the perimeter, leaving only two bodyguards by his side.

The Lord of Twilight stood guard on the ruins, quietly awaiting the arrival of the enemy.

This is his second performance, which he has meticulously prepared.

This time, the audience wasn't just made up of the followers of Anchor City.

From the temporary shelters within 500-600 meters to the observation platform several kilometers away, countless cameras and microphones were focused on this mysterious "witness," while a steady stream of believers came from all directions.

They were kept outside, partly because they didn't want to offend the witness of the god, and partly because they didn't want to gamble on whether the bombing by the Shan tribe was severe enough. However, being able to observe the possible miracle up close from a fairly safe location might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for them.

The crowd grew larger and larger, and within half a day, tens of thousands of people gathered around the ruins.

Under such intense public scrutiny, the Bloodstained Clan found themselves in a difficult position.

Not much, just a little.

Go ahead and fight. The atmosphere here is getting a bit too heated. Although they don't really take these people seriously, if they let this damn old guy show off again, it might be a case of losing more than they gain.

Let's not fight. We've already gone this far, how can we put our shameful blade back in its sheath?

After careful consideration, they decided to carry out this on-site killing as a deterrent.

All anti-aircraft weapons around the entire Anchor Town had long since disappeared. Under these circumstances, the Fenzu issued a warning several hours in advance, and their fighter jets arrived with great fanfare.

Upon receiving the death notice, the surrounding believers inevitably experienced immense panic.

Some fled to places further away from the temple ruins, while others advanced instead of retreating.

People holding binoculars crowded the high points on the perimeter, and the trenches and bunkers dug by the mercenary squads were packed with a dense mass of people.

If, at this moment, the "accidental bombing" that the Fenzu and Bai Diao, who are most skilled at, were to occur, the scene would likely be quite tragic.

At 9:11 AM local time on Blue Star Five Seas, the Shan Clan fighter jets approached the battlefield.

This is a third-generation "Lightning" fighter jet, designed by the White Eagle, jointly manufactured by multiple countries, and equipped with the Shan Clan's own advanced avionics system. As one of the most advanced air force weapons on Earth, deploying it to bomb a temple ruin with no air defenses is tantamount to public execution.

Both the Frostfolk and the White Eagles have a deep-seated fondness for this, to the point that they often repeatedly spread images of their enemy leaders' dying moments throughout the entire planet, thereby satisfying their mutated psychology.

But Beria wasn't going to give them that chance.

The real-time updates through the headset never stopped until that one second, a voice came through: "Target locked, attack initiated, ritual can proceed!"

Belial tilted his head, muttered something under his breath, and stretched out his hand.

The heavily patterned guard who had been by Belial's side nodded in agreement and bent down to pick up a brick from the ruins.

The brick was mostly intact, with an uneven cross-section and a layer of grayish-white dust covering its surface, making it look no different from any other piece of rubble in the ruins.

The guard handed it to Beria.

Beria tossed the brick lightly in his hand, seemingly to feel its weight, and then made an inexplicable gesture.

He placed the brick on the withered, scarred snake head at the top of the cane, then gently brushed it across with his hand.

Then, the petals that had already bloomed once opened again in an instant.

Unlike the elegant blooming of the past, this time it was an almost explosive, rapid, and powerful burst.

The petals, like springs compressed to their limit, suddenly released and violently rolled outwards, pushing the bricks outwards from the flower stamens, upwards, upwards, shooting straight into the sky in a way that completely defied the trajectory of a parabola.

A sharp, whistling sound came from the sky. The sound grew more and more urgent, and suddenly at a certain point, a pale white, cone-shaped cloud with an angle of about 120 degrees opened up from the tail of the brick.

Then, a dull, explosive bang finally arrived.

"My God! What am I seeing?"

"Mach cone!!!"

Several senior scholars who came to disprove the claims realized in an instant what had happened.

They simultaneously put down their binoculars, looked at each other, and each of them wore the same expression.

It was a sense of bewilderment and shock when the laws of physics were destroyed.

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.

When an object travels at extremely high speeds, the air in front of it cannot "make way" in time and is rapidly compressed and spread outwards, forming a pressure wave. Meanwhile, a low-pressure area is created behind the object, generating air turbulence and vortices.

Under such influence, the vibrations of these waves and air currents create what is known as the "sound of air being torn apart".

The louder the sound, the faster the object is moving, like the "whoosh" sound that boys make when they swing sticks in the air, a sound that gets their adrenaline pumping.

However, the Prandtl-Glaue singularity effect only occurs when an object's speed exceeds Mach 1.

When the air pressure behind an object drops to a certain level, water vapor in the air condenses into tiny droplets, as if a semi-transparent cloak is hanging behind the object.

At the same time, because a high-speed object emits sound waves every moment, when its speed reaches the speed of sound, it has already caught up with the sound it emits, causing all the sounds in front of it to be pushed away in time, layer upon layer, stacked in front of the object, just like being pushed by a bulldozer, accumulating more and more, piling up thicker and thicker.

Finally, when the object breaks the speed of sound, these accumulated sound waves are finally penetrated by the object itself, and are all flung behind and released, forming a cone-shaped shock wave.

This shockwave instantly released all the accumulated sound, creating a concentrated loud noise.

That's a sonic boom.

However, the conditions for a sonic boom are actually very demanding. Usually, only large-volume units such as supersonic aircraft, which need to accelerate rapidly, and also require suitable humidity in the surrounding environment, can produce the Mach cone at the right time.

This could never be achieved with just a small brick.

This is completely contrary to the laws of physics.

Of course, it's a bit inappropriate to talk about physics when facing Belial who has activated the Starry Sky cheat.

In short, under the watchful eyes of the world, the brick steadily and irresistibly climbed upwards.

The speed increased rapidly, shrinking quickly into a tiny black dot that was invisible to the naked eye in everyone's view.

Until it disappears completely.

At that moment, everyone who witnessed it felt their hearts pounding.

[Witness] What was the purpose of throwing this brick?
The answer is almost obvious.

But is this possible?
Even the most fanatical believers are hesitant to accept such an absurd idea.

An eerie silence fell over the scene.

People stared, mouths agape, heads tilted back, in the direction the pebble had vanished, filled with anticipation yet disbelief at their own expectations.

Beria sat quietly in his wheelchair, his hands folded over the top of his cane, gazing calmly at the sky.

Those clear, bright eyes seemed to pierce through layers of clouds.

A dozen seconds later, an airplane emerged from the clouds.

A commotion arose among the crowd, with exclamations rising and falling.

In past bombings, the Sangha's aircraft would never fly within such a visible range, because that would mean that even if the ground-based air defense system was completely destroyed, a single shoulder-fired air-to-air missile could still destroy it.

But now, the plane has emerged, spiraling slightly, and its altitude is rapidly decreasing.

This is not a normal flight attitude; this is a crash.

Like a whale pierced by a harpoon, struggling, this "Lightning" was exposed to everyone's sight in a completely abnormal manner.

As the fighter jets descended lower and lower, the high-powered telescopes clearly captured everything.

This top-of-the-line fighter jet on the entire planet had its nose almost perpendicular to the ground at a 15-degree angle, as if its head was being held down by an invisible giant hand. The fuselage slowly rolled in the air, like a high diver in slow motion, twisting its body rather inelegantly.

Sunlight reflected off the metal surface of the machine, creating dappled patterns that drew everyone's attention as it traced a desperate, grotesque, and irreversible arc across the sky.

There was no ejection.

There was no distress signal.

There was no attempt to lift the nose of the aircraft.

The Lightning crashed into the low hill on the opposite bank of the river to the west of the city, as if by fate.

That direction was the direction of the Shan tribe's ground attack. Perhaps in his last moments, the driver pulled the steering wheel, trying to get a little closer to his hometown.

The plane disappeared from everyone's sight, and then, for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

That moment was so brief, it didn't even last a breath.

That moment was also very long, long enough for everyone present to recall that scene countless times for the rest of their lives.

Flames erupted from the point of impact.

A bright orange flower with black edges suddenly bloomed on the mountainside.

Not too far away, the deafening explosion followed, rumbling across the earth, causing rubble to fall from the ruins, making the eardrums of the onlookers buzz, and making everyone's heart feel like it was about to leap out of their chest.

Presumably because it was loaded with ammunition, secondary explosions followed one after another.

One after another, flames lit up, each one more intense than the last, like a grand fireworks display, hurling all sorts of fragments into the sky.

Against the backdrop of such a dazzling blue sky, wild black smoke rose up like a black, swaying firework that stretched from the sky to the ground.

The crowd stared blankly at the menacing flames and smoke until, at a certain moment, a woman let out a heart-wrenching scream.

"By the Most High God!"

On that day, some people were crying, crying until tears streamed down their faces; some were laughing, laughing hysterically; some were shouting, shouting until their voices were hoarse; some were running, running almost frantically...

More people knelt on the rubble and gravel, amidst the dust and ruins, kneeling on this despairing land that had been abandoned, bombed, and repeatedly ravaged, from which there was no escape.

In the words of a reporter who had been on the front lines, on that day, the supreme god threw out his marbles, changing the course of this land's destiny.

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.

As the crowd prayed or reveled, Beria's wheelchair was pushed by his guards and slid down the hillside below the temple.

This place is not far from the river.

In a place where water resources are extremely valuable, the Abolimu Monastery, as a former gathering place for priests, occupies the best location for water intake.

Below the Huijing Hall, there used to be a bridge spanning the river, but it has been blown up. The broken bridge piers are slanted into the bridge surface in the water, stubbornly revealing some of their damaged bodies.

The guards pushed the wheelchair very fast, and by the time the crowd noticed this and began to swarm after the "witness," Belial's wheelchair had already reached the riverbank.

Beria is about to run away.

He has done everything he was supposed to do, shooting down a state-of-the-art fighter jet in such an unbelievable way. Neither the enemy nor those major powers will let him get away with it.

Don't think that performing miracles will make a difference. When it comes to self-interest, those people would even crucify God.

Belial himself was someone who attempted to kill a god, so he understood this all too well.

Next, he will face endless pursuit.

He couldn't even pledge allegiance to any side, because other forces wouldn't stand idly by and let him serve any one faction. If they couldn't control him, they would do everything in their power to kill him.

Believers may believe that Beria was a messenger of God and immortal, but Beria himself did not believe it.

He has to move his position.

However, before that, he has one last farewell performance.

A performance that wasn't particularly thrilling, but was significant enough to be recorded in religious history.

As the crowd surged forward, Beria's wheelchair had already reached the riverbank.

He turned halfway around, waved to the people behind him, then raised his cane high and waved it gently.

The snake head on the staff silently slashed through the air.

The river has split open!
Starting from the edge of the riverbank directly in front of Beria's wheelchair, the water surface seemed to be cut in by an invisible sluice gate, rapidly surging and receding to both sides, instantly revealing the wet, dark brown riverbed underneath.

The guards began pushing the wheelchair forward at breakneck speed.

Beria had to hurry.

First, he couldn't let the people behind him catch up. He arranged for the mercenaries to block the pursuing crowd in advance, but it was clear that the mercenary squad, which couldn't fire their guns in front of these fanatical believers, didn't execute the plan very well.

Secondly, separating the river requires far more effort than shooting down a plane.

Shooting down the planes was done by the ghosts who had been arranged in advance; it wasn't actually that difficult. As for the bricks that flew up, and the Mach cones that were created to match the bricks' performance, those were just illusions.

However, when it comes to parting the river, that's a real matter of forcing a crossing.

Sixteen powerful [Mage's Hand] magic arrays were pre-arranged underwater and activated remotely with a single button. To block the surging river, they were burning massive amounts of spirit crystals every moment.

But the performance will be very effective because it is a reenactment of a myth.

Although separating river water is much easier than separating sea water, believers do not know this, and who dares to say that Beria, the witness, could not separate the sea water?
The upstream river water, as if crashing into a transparent barrier, began to rise rapidly, while the downstream river water, as if being pulled back, also began to rise simultaneously. The torrents on both sides of the channel thus squeezed, tumbled, and surged to the left and right with a resolute and almost violent manner, forming two towering walls of water.

The inner wall of the water wall is covered with thousands of fine water curtains. Sunlight shines through these curtains and casts a shimmering golden light on the riverbed, which should be covered by the water. It illuminates the exposed silt, scattered pebbles, broken pottery shards, and some rusted ironware.

Amidst this chaotic riverbed, a straight passage, about two meters wide, was laid out in advance by a magician who had submerged underwater the previous night using the [Turning Mud into Stone] spell, stretching from Belial's feet all the way to the opposite bank.

The runes on the guard's body began to bulge slightly, and the bloodthirsty frenzy from the totem carvings had been activated. The wheels of the wheelchair spun rapidly, grinding against the damp, hard riverbed, making a "crunching" sound.

With its powerful shamanic warrior design, perfect mechanical structure, high-quality alloy wheels, and special rubber tires, this wheelchair demonstrates its superior performance in racing for the first time.

It even achieved a 0-100 km/h acceleration time of 2.81 seconds.

The acceleration is incredibly powerful!
But it doesn't matter, Beria, sitting upright in his wheelchair, had already secretly fastened two layers of safety belts under his robe.

The old charlatan gripped his cane with both hands, the cane wedged between the two armrests, his back ramrod straight, the back of his white robe billowing high in the wind like a silver snake dancing wildly, trailing long, rustling trails behind him along with his silver-white hair.

Without a doubt, this is another iconic moment.

Just behind him as he sped forward, the [Hand of the Mage] magic circle closed one by one, and the water wall began to close again, like a closed door, blocking the crowd whose eyes were almost popping out of their sockets.

If viewed from above, it would appear as if a wheelchair were speeding ahead, with the water rushing after it, the surging waves roaring and shouting, swallowing the path the witness had just traversed.

Within seconds of Beria's wheelchair reaching the other side of the river, the current had completely closed. The passage that had just appeared in the middle of the river seemed as if it had never existed at all.

The river began to flow again, and apart from the water being slightly more turbid than before, everything was exactly the same.

But everyone knows that things can never be the same.

This will become a "sacred river".

This will become a "sacred place"!
The leading group of believers tried to rush into the river to catch up with the Witness, but Beria waved to them from afar, and a surge of water in the river swept them back.

Those people were knocked down by the waves and lay on the shore, soaked and disheveled, but not one of them dared to get angry.

They crawled out of the mud, their faces bearing an almost manic expression.

The trembling sound of prayer rang out once more.

"Supreme God..."

"By the Most High God!!!"

"Have you seen it? This is the power of the prophet!"

No answer is needed, because everyone can see it clearly.

The crowd surged to the edge of the river, kneeling down in rows and patches, like waves of wheat under a long knife.

More and more people began to recite the scriptures that Beria had once spoken, one after another, one after another, their voices growing louder and more unified. The sound waves even disrupted the rushing river, and huge ripples spread out in circles on the water's surface.

"Suffering is not permitted by the gods. Suffering is the evil of this world itself!"

“You should follow the divine agents on earth, and you should follow the benevolent rulers of the world. They will uphold the will of our Lord and protect you.”

"The devout believers of God deserve to eat sweeter food, wear more beautiful clothes, use more convenient utensils, and live in more spacious houses!"

"If you do not insult others, you deserve a better life!"

"The Most High God says, if you cannot hold onto this life, you will also be unable to grasp the next!"

"By the Most High God!"

No one dared to step into that river; it was a sense of awe that came from the depths of history and from the very soul.

If the believers present felt a tremendous shock upon seeing this scene, then the Sangha members watching it on screen were utterly devastated.

The miracle of parting the sea originated from that famous prophet, priest, lawgiver, judge, intercessor, shepherd, and miracle worker in the history of the Shan people...

At this moment, a miracle occurred again.

This is a clear signal: the man in the wheelchair, the man who calls himself a "witness," is actually a prophet as well.

After waving goodbye to the crowd, the prophet Belial, along with his two loyal guards, disappeared into the wilderness on the other side of the river.

In the distance, the wreckage of the Lightning fighter jet was still burning, the thick black smoke gradually shrinking into a vertical column of smoke, drawing a thick, twisted black vertical line against the azure sky.

Like a silent middle finger pointing to the sky, raised in this once utterly hopeless world.

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.

After that, the internet, which should have been bustling and noisy, suddenly became very quiet.

When people don't believe in gods, they can make fun of, comment on, and even attack and curse without restraint.

However, when they felt a sense of awe or even fear, they no longer dared to speak casually, and even their actions of spreading information became cautious.

A few hours later, an investigation team from the Bald Eagles and the Bloodstained Clan arrived at the scene and began to investigate the crashed plane.

Although it was burned to ashes, the flight data could still be retrieved. There were no abnormal data before the plane crashed.

In resimulating the overall flight status of the crashed aircraft, the technical team arrived at a chilling conclusion.

"If that brick really hit the plane, it probably didn't hit a vital spot."

"More likely... a pilot!"

"You fucking mean a brick flew from the ground to an altitude of over 8,000 meters, smashed through the cockpit, knocked out the pilot, and caused the plane to crash?"

"Yes, sir, that's the only possible explanation."

"impossible!"

"Absolutely impossible!"

"The investigation results were announced to the public: the pilot... was on a high dose of drugs!"

"Also, turn this land upside down and find that old man!"

"I want to see him alive or dead."

A few minutes later, another investigator walked over looking panicked.

"Sir, he's appeared! The witness has appeared!"

Where is he?

"Online!"

"He started a live streaming channel called 'Teacher Beria's Little Classroom'!"

"Classroom? What is he teaching?"

The investigator swallowed hard.

He said that the last five commandments of the Ten Commandments have been violated by many people in this world, and in accordance with the will of the Most High God, judgment is coming soon.

The Ten Commandments... are a familiar thing to all people of the three religions who believe in the Supreme God.

As for the last five commandments...

The Sixth Commandment: You shall not murder.

The Seventh Commandment: You shall not commit adultery.

The Eighth Commandment: Do not steal.

The Ninth Commandment: You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

The Tenth Commandment: You shall not covet your neighbor’s house, nor your neighbor’s wife, or his male or female servant, or his ox or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.

Without a doubt, these are the very things they do every day that are forbidden.

(End of this chapter)