Having traversed countless realms, can you possibly be as clever as me?

This is a decree entitled "Prohibition of Sacraments," and its contents are incredibly terrifying for believers!

From Dover to London, from York to Chester, 13,000 churches across England lost all their functions under this decree.

The candles of the Eucharist in every church were extinguished, every church door was closed, and every bell was silenced. The church buildings themselves still stood there, the stone walls and spires remained, but they were no longer churches; they were merely silent shells.

In England, no newborn child can be baptized; they are born bearing original sin, their souls destined for hell! Weddings cannot be blessed by the church, their union is rejected by God, the dying cannot make their final confession, they cannot be buried according to Christian rites, and they are destined to have no peace after death!

Even if there were no more Masses on Sundays and the bells on Sundays were not allowed to ring, that silence would make every believer feel as if they were standing on the threshold of Judgment Day!

To put it bluntly—this land of England is now a sinful place abandoned by the Lord! Anyone who remains on this land is destined for hell after death!

The shock this caused almost drove all of England into a frenzy. Commoners, nobles, and soldiers alike were in turmoil. Even those who were not well-educated were immediately thinking about whether this was Sodom and whether they should get on a ship.

Some clever ones tried to flee England with their families, while the less clever ones were still trying to gain forgiveness by dealing with the king and the court.

Will there be forgiveness?

770

Yes, you'll get it. Go to hell and ask Satan for it!

Especially after the arrival of various European kings in Rouen, and after Tsurugi once again transformed into an angel to support Joan of Arc.

This time, he even playfully disguised himself as a statue of Gabriel appearing in the spirit world, and he also showed off the little horn in his hand.

Oh, my dear lambs of the mortal world, look at these magical little horns in my hands! Can you guess what they're for?

Oh, and he also took the opportunity to demonstrate how he treated the souls of the Duke of Burgundy and the Bishop of Cochrane, among others. His pitiful appearance and horrifying demeanor sent chills down the spines of the kings!

"Time is running out~~~ If God doesn't see your signs of repentance, then you might all end up like this~~~~"

Thus, after centuries, following Charlemagne, the whole of Europe once again achieved a unity of purpose that seemed almost impossible!

Those demons of the British Isles must die!!!

What people of the Duke of Normandy? Those despicable devils are impersonating humans! They cannot be forgiven; a heavy blow must be dealt!

After Joan of Arc's divine status was confirmed once again, all of Europe went completely mad, especially the French, who witnessed Joan of Arc's ascension to sainthood in the entire process. Their fervor at this moment far surpassed that of the Crusaders!

A mad king, a mad noble, a mad soldier, a mad cultist, a mad commoner

Having clearly seen a path that could truly lead to heaven, and knowing that if they did nothing, they would most likely end up in hell and be blamed by a bunch of British, they decisively abandoned all rationality and restraint, assembled an unprecedented army, and marched directly toward the British Isles!

As for their declaration? It's simple: there's no one left on that island; they're all devils in disguise!

Damn it, kill them all!

Fortunately, the saint did step in to argue her point—the English didn't care, but the Celts and Irish were innocent; although they were pagans, the merciful Lord decided they could be spared.

What else is there to say? The words of the Holy Maiden are the words of God, who dares to contradict her?!

Soon, armies from all over Europe marched towards England. And then what happened?

Britain: Will we be able to see the sun tomorrow?

The Western Crusaders: Their four wishes are probably a bit difficult to fulfill.

In short, Dongjiang soon witnessed how a group of Christian lunatics thoroughly purged Britain, severing the very foundation for the future of a morally corrupt Britain and the beacon of freedom, America.

People were killed, the land was burned, and after it was burned, salt was sprinkled on it and seawater was poured in. This place is not allowed to have anything living!

Europeans showed astonishing dynamism in this regard, wiping out everything in England at an almost unparalleled speed.

He enjoyed the game to the fullest, and then saw Michael standing on the ruins of Westminster Palace.

"I've hated this country from the very beginning," Michael said calmly, looking at the lifeless England.

"Perhaps I did possess George to help him fight the red dragon, but that was out of morality and justice, not out of protection. Yet they shamelessly came up to me and declared that I was their unique guardian deity."

The Sleepless One protects all of God's beloved Son, and is not a guardian of any particular country or nation.

"Heh, so you want to use me to wipe out this country?" Tsurugi crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"It shouldn't be that simple. You'll definitely need to contact me if you need something."

"I need your help with a task." Michael turned to look at Tsurugi and said seriously.

"You can do more preparation; this task is very important, extremely important."

"...Could it be some extremely dangerous world?" Tsugumi raised an eyebrow.

"It's not really a crime, but I suggest you commit some not-so-real 'crimes' before you go."

Michael carefully considered his words, seemingly feeling extreme shame and embarrassment at having encouraged Tsurugi to commit a crime, and sighed.

"In short, that world is related to Lucifer and Lilith, and it's a... very troublesome place."

"It's not that we can't go, but if we go, it might turn into something disgusting, so we can only ask you for help..."

"Okay, so you think I'm just your heartless toilet plunger, huh?!" Tsugumi retorted.

"Thank you for your trouble." Michael earnestly requested from Tsugumi.

What else is there to say? Let's just do it! Although Teacher Mi often steps on Dongjiang's head, he always remembers Michael's kindness. The Mark of the Sleepless can be said to be the foundation of his rise to power!

"Alright, then I'll go commit some crimes." Tsurugi immediately switched to the Supreme Superman template and punched the air in front of him.

"Hey hey hey, perfect timing, I'm going to test out my last Superman panel!"

The Holy Son's Path of Slaughter: 504. [The Watcher] I came, I saw, I conquered.

Dr. Manhattan: I can change almost the entire universe, but I can't change people's hearts to save the world...

Dongjiang: Screw it, I think these white monkeys are just asking for love. Watch me, Lord Superman, smash this world with three punches!

……

Good news: God really exists.

Bad news: God is an American.

God's name is Jonathan Jon Ostermann. He was born into a family of watchmakers who were German immigrants. In 1945, after his father witnessed the shock of the Hiroshima atomic bomb, he was sent to study atomic physics.

The butterfly flapped its tiny wings at that moment, and then stirred up waves that changed the world.

Jon received his Ph.D. in atomic physics from Princeton University in 1958. The following year, he joined the Girafratz Research Center to participate in the intrinsic field converter experiment. Then, ten months later, on November 9, a god from the quantum realm was born.

It was merely an experimental mishap; a gust of wind locked the door, and Jon, trapped inside the subtractor, was annihilated. However, his consciousness did not perish. Instead, with an infinitesimally small probability, it entered another dimension's non-material realm, and after several months, finally observed itself in reality.

The unknown Jon died, and the one who survived was the Blue God who called himself Dr. Manhattan.

He possessed the ability to rearrange atoms at will, and this ability grew stronger over time. The US government chose to conceal him as a secret weapon and deploy him in the impending Vietnam War.

The timeline was thus altered once again. The Americans, who should have been mired in the quagmire of Vietnam, not only won the Vietnam War within six months, making Vietnam the 51st state of the United States, but also made the world, especially the Soviet Union, aware of the threat posed by Manhattan, further widening the shadow of nuclear war.

Then comes the story of the Watchers, a stage play about an omniscient and omnipotent god before he relinquishes his last vestige of humanity.

But on October 15, 1985, just as the story was about to begin, a stranger entered the stage play and changed the plot.

The Indian Ocean sun, like a white-hot welding torch, baked a layer of distorted steam from the flight deck of the USS George Washington. The crew, wearing sunglasses, their bronze skin streaked with salt, looked utterly relaxed.

This nonchalant attitude is more hurtful than any contempt.

“Look at that beat-up fishing boat.” Standing on the island superstructure, Admiral Macaulay scanned a trawler three nautical miles away through his binoculars, a mocking and disdainful smirk playing on his lips.

"I'd guess its displacement is less than two hundred tons. Is this the most powerful navy that country can boast about?"

"These yellow-skinned monkeys aren't even worthy of shining our shoes. We're here because God sent us..."

770 >>

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771

The world has been handed over to America.

The ship's first officer, Tom Hartman, chuckled and patted the small, shimmering blue Dr. Manhattan commemorative badge on his chest—a popular unofficial accessory in the Seventh Fleet that the Pentagon never questioned.

After all, it was that blue god who made Vietnam the 51st state of the United States; it was his existence that turned Soviet missiles into scrap metal; it was he who proved that the nation's Manifest Destiny was unstoppable.

“Apart from us, no one else on this planet counts,” Hartman paused, his gaze sweeping over the scattered ships on the southern sea, as if looking at a herd of silent animals.

McCauley, of course, wouldn't refute it, because it was the truth. When he himself was on vacation in Subic Bay, local Filipino women fawned over them, practically licking their shoes, while the Maritime Self-Defense Force destroyers in Tokyo Bay made way for the Seventh Fleet with their horns humbly low.

They have a blue god, while other countries do not. The blue god helped them easily defeat Vietnam, and since then, the people of their country have been the only ones in the world who are considered human!

"USS George Washington, this is USS Arleigh Burke. My squadron has completed its anti-submarine patrol in the Strait of Malacca and requests to return." The destroyer captain's lazy voice came through the radio.

"Return to port approved. By the way—" General McCauley suddenly grinned mischievously and pressed the call button, "Did you see those 'lost' fishing boats? How about we give them a low-altitude flyby with our carrier-based aircraft? Let those fishermen see what true civilization looks like."

A burst of laughter erupted over the radio, and then they actually did it. The lone carrier-based aircraft swiftly flew over the ships, threatening, teasing, and maliciously mocking them.

And just then, a person appeared in this sky.

A vertical shadow was silently descending from the stratosphere. At first, it was just a dark spot the size of a speck of dust, but in just two seconds, it had stretched into the outline of a person. A second later, the outline gained color.

Black and White

He wore a dark, tight-fitting uniform with a silver shield-shaped badge in the center of his chest, featuring a white "S" on a red background. His pale cloak remained almost motionless in the thin atmosphere high above, like a frozen banner. His face was bathed in brilliant sunlight, except for the dark hollows where his eyes should have been.

"What is that?" Hartman's eyes widened.

The man who had seemingly descended from the sky was now hovering less than fifty meters in front of the bow of the USS George Washington. There was no parachute, no airplane, no known aircraft. He stood there, as if on transparent land, his arms crossed over his chest, his cloak billowing slightly in the sea breeze.

Macaulay saw his face clearly through the binoculars.

That face was definitely not that of a white person; it was handsome, cold, and serious, like a stone sculpture, or perhaps a piece of steel.

The ship's alarms blared shrilly.

"This is the U.S. Navy's Seventh Fleet!" McCauley grabbed the public address microphone, his voice echoing across the decks of more than a dozen warships.

"You have entered our exercise area! Identify yourself immediately and leave! Otherwise, we will take all necessary measures!"

"Order him to land!" McCauley yelled at Hartman, simultaneously dialing the encrypted channel of the combat intelligence center. "This is the bridge, level one alert! All anti-aircraft fire locked onto the target! Carrier-based aircraft to launch immediately!"

"This is the final warning!" Macaulay threatened. "I order you to surrender! On this ocean, no force can stand against the Navy of the United States!"

The figure in the air finally moved. Although he didn't open his mouth, his voice clearly reached everyone's ears.

"You seem to think you're blessed by God?" he said.

"Let me tell you what the real God is."

Then, he vanished. He walked straight through the bridge armor of the USS Arleigh Burke, like a finger passing through a damp tissue; that composite metal, invented by humanity over half a century, was less than dust before him.

The bridge of the USS Arleigh Burke resembled a crushed can of soda, with metal petals tumbling outwards from the inside. The captain and all senior officers were crushed in that hit.