He is the leader of the Tantric sect in Chagdu.

Chapter 86 is awesome!

Womikochi.

The name of a dead person—whether it was Naji or Yami, they both remembered the scene that day, yet they were even more unable to comprehend what was happening before their eyes.

"I don't understand what you're talking about—" Yami narrowed his eyes, a hint of suspicion flashing in his vertical pupils. He began to wonder if he had forgotten something during his escape—he even thought of the Foundation that had been chasing him all the way.

But the strange, rambling manner of the person in front of them didn't seem like their style.

On the contrary—they seem more like colleagues.

The cult leader wanted to make a move, but hesitated due to a vague sense of unease. Taking advantage of this moment, the mysterious man with the unassuming face spoke softly, "It's alright—"

His face still wore that chilling smile. "Not every guest can immediately grasp the greatness of the Holy See, after all, His power is beyond mortal comprehension. Please give me a little more time, and I will show you His Gospel—"

That's enough.

Yami waved his hand, interrupting impatiently in a sinister tone, a viscous blood-red liquid flowing across his pupils.

—Holy See.

This title is simply—

Najib looked at the mysterious man as if he were looking at a dead man.

—Such a blatant provocation.

"The time I was away may have given some petty people unrealistic fantasies, but his ambitions have reached their limit. He occupied my execution ground and is still using the name of one of my dead disciples to play tricks here."

Yami smiled and, just like he had eaten countless times, slowly swam forward. A rotten yellow bandage untied from his arm and wrapped around his neck, putting the mysterious man's life in his own hands.

"Come before me, bow down to the true holiness, you lost one deceived by the false god—you should bow down to me, not to that hypocritical holy throne."

Just to be on the safe side, he carefully examined the man's blood and crimson fluid, confirming that there were no traces of contact with any mysterious power.

—That's so strange.

Like having a gun pointed at an opponent's head, Yami finally breathed a slight sigh of relief.

He was lost in thought.

The mysterious figure who seemed to have been waiting for them all along had an unclear purpose—neither taking advantage of the Church's decline to declare his position, nor claiming to be the successor to that unknown "new Holy See."

Like an alarm clock with a randomly set time, carelessly left here, its sole purpose being to take advantage of Yami's tiredness—

It would be convenient to give him a fright.

What does this mean?

Yami suddenly felt a chill run down her spine, but the sensation vanished without warning in the next instant, the invisible feeling like a dream forgotten in the early morning.

----never mind.

Since she couldn't figure it out, Yami simply gave up thinking about it.

He chuckled softly.

"Come back, child—return to the embrace of my Lord, become a part of Him, your blood, flesh, and soul are the embryo that formed His birth—I grant you exaltation."

These words had become an instinct. Yami gently stroked the head of the person in front of her, and the scene was exactly as expected: the rotting touch grew sharp fangs, pierced his bones, and stabbed into his flesh, while transparent snake venom was injected into his body.

Then it turns into invisible consumables.

Half of his body began to dissolve in Yami's power. Strangely, the mysterious man did not resist in the slightest, and there was no trace of pain or fear on his face.

It is puzzling, yet it also stirs a deep, ever-growing excitement within.

"Gentlemen, it is a pity that I may not be able to spread the glory of that one to you—"

With his unchanging smile and calm, steady voice, every word he uttered was as devout as if he were singing the gospel: "Even in the face of a rude guest, the Lord will not be filled with anger—for mercy is His nature. We are born in a warm, womb-like light—even death is a return to the womb. We are nourished by purity, we are immersed in purity. I have risen, I have been suspended high—"

As Naji trembled and Yami remained silent, the man raised his arms high from the melting red liquid and cried out in a fervent and ardent voice, "Father of Light, Merciful Lord! Witness me!"

The sound faded, and the mysterious figure completely dissolved.

Yami quietly took a step forward, looking at the blood-red filth spread out on the ground. The color gradually faded from the original bright red, and then, like an old film reel being switched, it became a dull and restrained "gray" that had no presence.

Gray, a question between pitch black and pure white: at this moment, it seems to have been endowed with some element that sends chills down your spine —

This is an unseen, intangible substance, a living thing that silently spreads in the stillness—one or two people watch this mass of things grow from that patch of undried flesh and blood. They are colors that reproduce, colors that move, colors that think; "gray" crawls and dances on the ground, slipping away silently unnoticed in the passage of time.

—What the hell is this?!

Yami glanced at the "living divine body" that was quietly following behind her: the beautiful snake girl — nothing more had changed.

The "consumables" just now did not improve the "gestation" process in any way.

"Holy Throne—" Naji murmured, then fell silent.

The cult leader took a deep breath—

The flesh and soul right under our noses were stolen—no, it should be said that they were intercepted.

"Who is it?!"

Who is qualified to compete with the twins of the "snake's" offspring for nutrients?

"Your Holiness, what should we do now?"

After hesitating for a long time, facing the cult leader with a gloomy face, Naji finally couldn't help but speak up, "This place may no longer be safe."

"Shut up!"

Yami roared without warning, then gasped for breath, his vertical pupils shrinking to the size of pinpoints.

He was now powerless to maintain his composed demeanor, for after the unknown substance that turned flesh and blood gray dissipated, only a pile of fragmented bones remained in the place—along with the mysterious man's personal belongings.

He bent his boneless waist and picked up a metal emblem from the ground, which was engraved with a pattern: a tall scepter, fruit at the top of the scepter, and a coiled snake wrapped around the scepter.

—The emblem of the Church of St. Naracco.

"These are my followers—"

Yami said softly, slowly closing her eyes.

—It used to be, but it isn't anymore.

"Holy Throne—"

Naji swallowed hard and cautiously reminded them, "We're being watched. That unknown force isn't from any party we know. It's no longer safe here—"

All he wanted to do now was run away. He felt an inexplicable "fear"—the chill that spread from his spine to his entire body in the moment he witnessed that gray hue, a numbness and despair that made him want to turn back and face those damned tin cans.

"He betrayed me, he betrayed the serpent's teachings—"

Yami seemed deaf to his words, immersed in the sense of imbalance and defeat—in the past, in the entire Lower City, only Saint Naraken, who truly possessed mysterious power, could claim invisible authority—before the Foundation's involvement, he, Yami, the Serpent's Throne, was the spokesperson for mystery.

—But in just five days, something unacceptable happened in a field beyond his control.

The Foundation's purge was just a development that Yami had anticipated. Although the decisiveness of this purge was almost irresistible, the leader believed that as long as he completed the gestation of the "serpent," the purge would be reversed. Even if in the end the Foundation could kill their bodies, it could never kill the seed of the "serpent."

Yami once thought so.

-But.

The cult leader couldn't understand why his once extremely devout followers had changed their object of worship in just five days. This was no longer an attack, but a complete and utter declaration.

That being told him—

"To dismantle you would be a piece of cake."

"Holy See." Naji whispered first, then urged, watching as Yami's almost manic expression gradually subsided, his anger and resentment suppressed beneath his vertical pupils.

He suddenly turned his supple serpentine body halfway around, staring intently at the last disciple who followed him:

T

What's your name?

The merman paused for a moment, then quickly replied, "Nagi, Your Majesty."

"Very good, the Lord has recorded your name." He nodded.

"Walk."

Without lingering there or not noticing the blank look in Naji's eyes, Yami turned around.

"Let's go meet our colleagues."

Kane Street.

This is a neighborhood located on the very edge of the North River, a gray area of ​​the tertiary industry. 40% of the area is uninhabited industrial zone, teeming with sugar workers and gangs. Moreover, you don't need to take any transportation; you can reach the tumor of the lower town—the outskirts—simply by walking in one direction.

Of course, that area is now completely sealed off, and as a result, the crime rate along the entire Kansas Street has dropped by thirty points in the last two weeks. Although the stability here is still among the lowest in the North River, given the extremely high base, it remains the lowest in the area.

But recently, the situation seems to have improved.

The streets were already deserted at night. The three of them walked in the darkness like three wandering ghosts. Their colors were unknown, but they were like birds that were equally dark in the night. They spread their wings and cast menacing shadows under the streetlights before flying away silently.

A strange "cooing" sound came from the depths of darkness—Naji shuddered, a chill rising in his heart.

"Holy See - why don't we go and meet with the disciples first? I've already sent a message in the private channel that the rest of us will gather here. Why don't we wait until we've assembled before causing trouble for that fellow disciple?"

"idiot----"

Yami took a deep breath: "Who told you—we're going to cause them trouble?"

"————" Naji opened his mouth but no sound came out, while Yami continued talking to herself.

"That guy who came to his death—he might be one of their informants. Saint Naracon has almost nothing left, and as a new tycoon here, he must be trying to prove his authority to this old man."

—It's like a junior who has just started learning and has achieved a little success, so he flaunts his abilities to his down-on-his-luck seniors.

Whether it was self-hypnosis or some other reason, Yami had already adjusted her mindset. "Their power is not from ours; it is an unknown and mysterious realm. To be their enemy would lead to a huge crisis. Moreover, with the Foundation tightening its encirclement, hehe, we are all in the same boat."

He chuckled and said, "For the Foundation, it makes no difference whether we cleanse one church or two. We may not have regained our former glory, but cooperation is the inevitable outcome in the face of a common enemy."

"We've come into their sights—that guy will come looking for us, and perhaps we were his target from the start—they won't give up what we left behind, those connections in the invisible world, the underground trading hubs—there's too much of it. I control almost all the mysterious channels in the lower city, and these are all bargaining chips."

Yami said confidently, "In terms of influence, it can't be simply summarized as power—they're still far from it."

.

The two stopped in their tracks.

"Look—here it comes!"

Najib involuntarily took a step back, while Yami smiled and took a step forward.

Before them stood a group of dark figures—about a dozen humanoid silhouettes, lined up in a row. Rather than a meeting between two mysterious societies, it resembled—

The scene of an impending gang war.

"vulgar----"

Yami frowned, then slowly relaxed. "After all, they are newbies who have just entered this path, and their hospitality needs improvement—but it's understandable. They should continue to study mysterious elegance, but instead they have to face threats from the Foundation."

"pity."

He murmured softly, then writhed his boneless body forward slowly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, heirs of the Serpent's Execution Ground—I have witnessed your power, and we sit on the thrones of saints. We should have had more profound conversations—but those bandits destroyed everything."

Hatred gleamed in his eyes, and he whispered in a seductive voice, "Those powerful nobles above, those high and mighty scum—they've turned what should have been a great place, Hallownest, into ruins, yet they still monopolize the mystical miracles! This power should belong to all of us, to that bright future where everyone can use the mystical to control their own destiny—"

"This is a great and arduous road."

He spoke in a low voice, as if suppressing his anger, before speaking firmly: "Just like the direction we are heading now, fellow travelers, our purpose is the same, our ideals are similar, we are by no means enemies."

"————"

It was a very awkward scene.

The group of figures under the cover of night did not react at all, nor did Yami expect that a "Holy Throne" of equal status would step out from the crowd, walk up to her, and discuss matters with her.

"6

Yami tilted her head slightly, then calmly chuckled again, "If your leader hasn't arrived yet, I can wait a while, but please understand—even the Serpent's Messenger has limited patience—"

He said this, but he was accompanied by an almost deathly silence until a bird's "coo" rang out from above.

The streetlights, which had been out of power, suddenly lit up amidst a crackling noise.

—?

Yami fell into a daze.

"Holy See!" came Najib's horrified cry from behind.

Each figure before me wore the emblem that originally belonged to the Church of St. Naraken on their chest, and their devout and fanatical expressions were as eerie as if they had been copied and pasted.

Everyone was holding a gun—

"Run!"

"Bang"

The next instant, a series of gunshots ripped through the night sky.