She is not an investigator.

Forward or backward?

A faint, indistinct commotion began to echo in Iglesias's ears, and a dense, indistinct sound of footsteps seemed to swirl around her, affecting her judgment and observation.

But there is no doubt that this level of pollution would have almost no effect on Igris.

But this actually gave her a piece of information.

She wasn't the first person to come here.

"Mirror Demon, go ahead and scout ahead, be careful."

The Mirror Demon nodded, its figure instantly transforming into a sparrow, flying over the end of the corridor, passing through corners and stairs, and disappearing from Igris's sight.

Igris simply sat down on the ground to pay a little attention, and took out her pistol, hesitating whether to put a special bullet that Constantine had given her into the pistol.

"…never mind."

At least, she hasn't actually encountered any danger yet.

"never mind."

The same voice rang in her ears, only this one was heavier, hoarser, and filled with a nauseating stench and a sense of disharmony.

Igris turned her head and looked at the rotting corpse that had appeared beside her at some point, sitting on the ground, but wearing a prison guard's uniform.

He turned his head to the side, mimicking Igris, and stared at her silently without moving.

He was learning from Igris's actions, which might be considered unusual, but his original self was probably a prison guard here.

Something has indeed happened here, and it's largely related to those madmen who worship blood.

"Chirp chirp!"

The chirping of sparrows made Igris turn her head again to look at the end of the corridor.

The sparrow that the Mirror Demon had transformed into fluttered its wings and flew swiftly toward Igris.

But behind it, countless crimson threads spread rapidly, trying to grab the Mirror Demon flying in the corridor, and rushed towards Igris.

"What is this now... have you brought trouble again?"

Igris looked at the approaching red line, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a strange glass bottle.

She took this from a believer; although she didn't know what it was, it was quite useful for starting fires.

The next moment, Igris threw the bottle over, and the blood-red threads wrapped around it, instantly shattering it.

The liquid in the bottle was poured onto their bodies without reservation, and in the next moment, a raging fire suddenly rose up.

The silk threads were quickly ignited, accompanied by a strange sizzling sound, and countless threads retreated rapidly and disappeared into the corridor.

Igris was not afraid of fire, or rather, she was more adept at doing everything in the flames.

The rotting corpse behind her followed Igris's example and walked into the fire, only to be completely charred and fall helplessly to the ground the next moment.

Igris was very satisfied, so she also had some less-than-ethical thoughts.

"If we set this whole place on fire..."

Igris took out her last two glass bottles and looked at the stairs at the end of the corridor.

Going down from there leads to the prison's cell block, and from there you can directly access the prison's free movement area. If there are no prison guards there, then the other prisoners will most likely stay there.

In other words, Igris could try to set everything on fire except for the activity area.

At least this way, it will save her a lot of trouble.

As she pondered this, she slowly descended the steps.

Upon arriving at the prison area, the previous cleanliness and flatness vanished, replaced by a stained floor and a nauseating stench permeating the air.

The cell was empty, not a soul in sight. All the cell doors were wide open, and no one knew where the people inside had gone.

There was a clearly visible scorch mark on the ground, which looked like the mark left by something that had been burned and dragged on the ground.

Igris could use her imagination to guess that these were traces left by the owner of the red threads she had lit, who was unfortunately caught in the flames after retrieving the threads and fled in panic.

However, this also shows that the creature that left this mark doesn't look like a normal creature at all. After all, it's hard for Igris not to associate such a drag mark with a huge reptile.

Igris intended for the Mirror Demon to continue scouting, but this was not a good idea given the narrow terrain.

The Mirror Demon's advantage is probably that it can transform into some agile animals to evade attacks, such as becoming a sparrow or a mouse.

However, in this terrain, no matter how it changes, the space it can escape to is quite limited. In addition, its physical strength is so great that it would break at the slightest touch, so Igris didn't want to let it continue to take risks.

It's better to do some things yourself.

Instead of trying to check each cell to find information, Igris chose to go straight through and follow the strange trail.

The traces were very clear, as if they were deliberately designed to lure Igris to find them, extending all the way into the area where the activity took place.

Igris wanted to hesitate or consider whether she should kick the door open, but now, seeing a closed door gave her an inexplicable urge to kick it open.

But Igris always remembered that she was an elegant lady, so she suppressed her impulse and gently pushed open the door.

Her vision suddenly opened up, and everything in front of her seemed to crowd into her eyes. The gray and white space on the ground was now filled with vibrant colors.

Igris found it difficult to describe in words which color family the color belonged to, and her slowed mind made it hard for her to process everything in front of her in an instant.

Finally, she abandoned her thoughts and threw the Molotov cocktail in her hand, turning the entire area of ​​color into the color of flames.

It wasn't until the flames rose that Igris managed to rub her temples and regain her composure.

A colossal cocoon, wrapped in countless scarlet threads, stood amidst the flames. Beside it, countless sinners knelt on the ground, praying devoutly to the cocoon, letting the crimson threads drain their blood and lives.

The person who had lost all life lay on the ground, their body turning a strange color, and was slowly consumed by flames.

But even more numerous were those who, despite being engulfed in flames, remained steadfastly kneeling on the ground, praying to the giant cocoon.

They are criminals in this prison, and true sinners.

Offering their lives and faith to God in an attempt to cleanse themselves of their sins.

The Gods' Folly - The Last Knight: Chapter Forty-Five, The One Who Dwells in Flames

Igris stepped on the flames and looked at the giant cocoon in front of her.

The giant cocoon slowly writhed, and countless scarlet threads attempted to attack Igris, but were ignited by the flames spreading around her and had to retreat.

She came with flames, slowly embarking on the pilgrimage path of the giant cocoon.

Her body seemed to become a seed of ignition; with each step she took, the flame beneath her feet would spread outwards again, igniting the devout worshippers.

The giant cocoon's body suddenly began to tremble, and countless threads scattered, attempting to escape from the flames, but what awaited them was the merciless high temperature and their swift conversion into fuel.

But within the giant cocoon, a figure filled with madness and distortion stood leisurely, eyes tightly closed.

Its skin was covered in blood, and its body was as tender as a newborn child. Countless people's blood had nourished its growth, but it still hadn't awakened.

This was the initial ritual of blood worship, and also its end.

The butcher is its defective product, given the name of a divine child, yet he is full of madness and violence.

But it's different.

It is the true Son of God, a great being symbolizing blood, a sacred and unquestionable divine oracle, and a legendary being that inspires trembling and reverence in anyone who glimpses its true form.

It is not a god, but it is better than a god.

Slowly, it landed on the ground and opened its eyes.

The empty eye sockets seemed to be filled with a sea of ​​blood, capable of swallowing up anything that dared to try to see them.

A scarlet silk crown was slowly woven in mid-air and gently landed on its head.

The next moment, the bodies of everyone kneeling on the ground around them began to swell instantly, and every cell underwent unprecedented changes and mutations, bursting open within seconds.

The eerie colors completely covered the ground, and its gaze fell upon the lone figure that still stood in the same spot.

A figure engulfed in flames.

"..."

Elusive voices came from all directions, and unknown languages ​​constantly eroded Igris's reason and cognition, attempting to defile her soul and force her to kneel before them.

Igris ignored it and continued to walk toward it, stepping on the flames, holding the last Molotov cocktail in her hand.

Suddenly, she slightly raised her eyes and looked directly at the high and mighty holy figure.

I looked into those hollow eye sockets, which held the blood and death within them.

Her blood was boiling, her body was trembling, and reason and inspiration were simultaneously sending her irresistible warnings and temptations.

He tempted her to kneel, tempted her to offer her loyalty, tempted her to walk towards death.

But a flame climbed onto her body.

It moved merrily, landing on Igris's arm, leaping onto her shoulder, lingering in her hair, and then disappearing again.

The flames behind her did not retreat from this false holiness, but followed Igris's footsteps, spreading across this despairing landscape.

Until Igris stopped.

He then raised the Molotov cocktail high in his hand.

"Here's a little something for you, a small gift!"

Igris suddenly threw the Molotov cocktail in her hand, which slammed heavily onto its fragile, tender body, splashing the liquid inside and wetting it.

And in the next moment, a raging fire broke out.

"..."

A piercing and incomprehensible roar echoed in Igris's mind, tearing at her spirit and reason, like flames devouring her newborn body and soul.

Igris leaned against the flames, countless joyful flames dancing on her body, only to disappear at the tips of her hair.

So she raised her head.

He then raised his pistol.

He pulled the trigger.

-

He is the sun, and the fire; He is their mortal enemy, and the harbinger of destruction.

Title Obtained: One Who Dwells in Flames