Chapter 445: Dream of Assimilation

"Hmm, let me think..."

Bao Dachai pinched his chin and pondered for a moment, "He's a kid picked up by Miss Wen; heard his parents died early, the brothers were both infected with Dream Loss Syndrome and were dragged in together...

But his younger brother wasn't as lucky as him and was eaten."

"Eaten."

Ji Jue turned his head slightly.

"Ah, yes, literally, eaten."

The old man made a chewing motion: "Have you heard of the Feast Cult? An organization in the Middle Earth, deeply rooted; among the branches below, there is one called the Great Food Cult, which is even regarded as a proper faith in some places in the Thousand Islands.

The doctrines and such are all about how all spirits were originally one, and after losing their faces, they fell apart. So everyone must strive to fuse with each other, let the gods wake up from within their own bodies, whatever, anyway, it's that set of nonsense.

As for how to fuse, that depends on eating; they treat this as a holy meal.

Eat to gain life, eat to gain power, eat to gain the completion of the soul and eternal life."

Ji Jue's heart moved, and he suddenly asked: "Punabantu?"

"Right, that's correct, Punabantu is also their territory, mainly spreading among the natives and tribes; the most famous believer is Ekonzo, the general who killed the president and took power himself, who is said to have died inexplicably later, but guess what?"

Bao Dachai clapped his hands and sighed: "He was reincarnated!"

The spiritual plague that spread with Punabantu as the source was planned from the beginning, including Ekonzo's rise to power...

Ji Jue was slightly stunned for a moment, then realized.

Finally understood why they wanted to expel the medical team of the Chongguang Church, and then suddenly changed their minds and wanted to detain them... I'm afraid it was because they were afraid they would discover some news and clues, right?

"Now that General, he is a saint in this Yellow Millet, a noble residing in the Heavenly City."

The old man said slowly: "It is said that what he likes most is to personally find delicious ingredients in various parishes, conscript them, take them back, and eat them slowly, savoring them carefully.

Eat once, eat again, until he gets tired of eating, eats them empty, eats until consciousness and self-nature are completely wiped out, and they can no longer grow, leaving only an empty shell..."

The two brothers who devoutly believed met such a person, yet thought they had met a savior and an opportunity, and were taken to serve the holy event.

One worked hard outside, praying endlessly, the other served devoutly inside, bathing in divine grace.

The bright future and beautiful dream they thought they had were completely shattered on the day of their reunion.

In the trash heap, that familiar empty shell.

Amidst the foul-smelling leftovers, the broken empty shell made sounds over and over again, not remembering itself, and forgetting others, yet still calling its brother's name.

Again and again.

Echoing at the end of the darkness...

"...Having encountered such things, just becoming what he is now, if you ask me, is already understandable."

The old man sighed lightly, rolling the leaf tobacco in his hand, licking the paper leaf, sticking it together, and after lighting it, blew a breath lightly; the rising smoke swirled, changing into various phantoms, dancing and dissipating.

He squinted his eyes and whispered softly: "Clearly it's a dream bubble, why is it more cruel than reality?"

Ji Jue didn't answer.

Just lowered his eyes, staring at the flames in the furnace.

Black as night, red as blood.

In the silent surging, the flame had already given the answer to solve everything.

The heat had arrived.

"Please help me call him over."

Ji Jue paused and said softly: "Just tell him..."

"There is a gift from the devil that I want to give him."

A few minutes later, the dirty boy came to the chicken-foot house, his face still a bit bruised, seemingly having fought with someone again.

Looking at the strange scene in the chicken-foot house, he seemed a bit uneasy, then seemed to muster his courage, stepped on the carpet roughly, and left a few dirty footprints.

Looking coldly at Bao Dachai and Ji Jue.

As if ready to argue in the next second.

Bao Dachai was used to it, smoking his leaf tobacco, glanced at them, said "you guys talk," and went to lie down on the rocking chair on the side.

"Tch, pretending to be mysterious..."

The boy put his hands in his pockets, looking at Ji Jue sideways: "What's the matter? Say it quickly, I have things to do."

"What things? Fighting?"

Ji Jue stood in front of the stove, not looking back, and asked: "Fighting with people in the camp, winning or losing, what can it change?"

"You care too much."

The boy frowned, impatient, glancing at his side profile; Ji Jue didn't take offense, remaining calm, even the slight curve of his mouth hadn't changed.

Seemingly gentle.

Hypocritical, pretending...

He wanted to say that, but before it could come out, he got stuck. Don't know why, looking at this person who seemed like he would fall if he swung twice, he felt vaguely afraid, but the more afraid he was, the more he wanted to prove his courage in vain.

Glaring.

"I fought because I wanted to, so what? Why so much nonsense."

"Then go fight, finding something you want to do is quite good." Ji Jue picked up the tool, turning it in the furnace fire, unhurriedly: "Finding a way to escape the nightmare is even better, but can you really forget? Those things you want to forget."

For a moment, the boy's face flushed, his fists clenched subconsciously, glaring, but he froze in place, as if hesitating, or as if... afraid.

"It has nothing to do with you."

"Hmm, indeed." Ji Jue nodded, indifferently omitting the suffering that had nothing to do with him, just asked: "Speaking of which, what was your name again?"

None of your business, brain sick, go pretend to be cool, I'm leaving, not playing with you!

But when the words came out, he spasmed, gritted his teeth, and squeezed out the answer from between his teeth: "Yan, Yan Fei."

"Hmm, hello, Yan Fei."

Ji Jue finally turned back from the furnace, smiling, and introduced himself: "I am Ji Jue."

Yan Fei's mouth was tightly pursed, looking straight at him, but unwilling to speak anymore.

Then, he heard his voice.

As if echoing from hell, so distant, and cold.

"Do you want to avenge your brother?"

Those wounds covered by mud and forgetting were roughly torn open again; pain, resentment, hatred, like blood, flowed out again, drowning everything, making him suffocate, forgetting to think.

Instinctively clenching his fists, stepping forward, wanting to swing his fists to smash that hypocritical smiling face.

But he saw Ji Jue's eyes.

In the pure pitch-black, as if burning with scarlet flames, in the scorched earth burned to nothing, only ashes rose and fell, just like hell; at this moment, the pitch-black hell reflected his face.

Small as dust.

He froze, frozen, unable to breathe, trying hard to open his mouth, once, and again, but the only sound he made was a confused, blurred noise.

Like a dying wail.

Yet it made Ji Jue couldn't help but smile.

The fire tongs submerged in the raging flames were lifted, slowly pulled out, and from the scorching wind, the glowing red golden cup appeared before him.

In the scorching golden cup, it was filled with dreamlike red.

The blood and soul of the angel of the wheel and the giant tree, pain and despair, and even everything, were all here!

"Then drink it, Yan Fei."

A distant voice came, bringing the revelation from heaven, telling him: "This will be the first drop of blood shed by the Holy God, right in your mouth..."

In a trance, Yan Fei subconsciously wanted to take a step back, but before that, he had already involuntarily stepped forward, holding the scorching golden cup, as if clutching his own life, soul, and everything, even though his flesh hissed and crackled in the burning of the golden cup.

He tilted his head and drank it in one gulp without hesitation!

Pop!

The empty golden cup fell to the ground and shattered into powder.

At that moment, a scream rang out, from his shell, soul, consciousness, just like swallowing a ball of fire, burning everything; he knelt on the ground in embarrassment, screaming.

But there were three voices screaming.

As if three people were filling his body, wailing, but gradually, their expressions became ferocious like gluttons, devouring wantonly.

The other two voices all disappeared in the wailing.

Even his own voice was completely gone.

His throat had been burned by molten iron, his esophagus and stomach had turned into charcoal; he fell to the ground, dying, his right hand suddenly detached from his shoulder, and the flesh and blood that didn't belong to him were flicked away.

The broken body spasmed and surged in pain.

The sound of metal friction rang out.

From the skull, one sharp iron thorn after another pierced through, entangling with each other, falling off, turning into thorn-like iron rings, hanging high.

Behind, under the broken flesh, white bones appeared, but steel grew on the white bones, iron crystals proliferated, extended, forming sharp bones; amidst the flowing silver light, flesh and blood formed, and on the flesh and blood, iron-gray metal feathers grew again.

Steel wings suddenly unfolded, so massive, covering his entire person.

Sharp friction sounds continued one after another.

And when the iron wings unfolded again, that thin, broken boy had disappeared without a trace.

Replacing him was a slender giant over three meters tall, covered in steel and metal; the metal covered his face like flesh, replacing the flesh and forming a new body.

On both sides of his face, six eyes slowly opened, shooting out miserable red light.

Roaring loudly.

Ripples with substance diffused, rolling and sweeping, disturbing all directions, turning the entire wooden house into a mess.

And in the center of the storm, Ji Jue smiled, appreciating the monster before him, full of pleasure, watching quietly, until the steel giant slowly knelt on the ground.

Offering the only remaining reverence and the only dignity to him.

Prostrating.

Just like, meeting a god!

"It seems you have made your choice, Yan Fei."

Ji Jue reached out and pressed his head, as if baptizing him.

Under that palm, the steel monster rapidly dissipated, returning to the boy's appearance again.

"Whether you are encouraged by hatred or courage, it doesn't matter.

The only path left for you is one; step on this path, and there is nothing in this world worth you prostrating to anymore, whether it is a god or a devil."

"Today, I give this power to you."

He leaned over, lowered his head, and whispered in the boy's ear one last time: "From now on, in the rest of your life, you only need to do one thing.

—Take revenge on those who created hell, until you slaughter them all!"

Revenge, until death.

So cruel, but at that moment, the boy who had just woken from a dream couldn't help but smile, laughing wildly, dancing in ecstasy, two lines of blood tears winding down from his face.

Like scars, piercing through joy and pain.

In the corner of the workshop, the old man watched all this quietly, and for a moment, he squinted his eyes—in the observation of Strange Tale Alchemy, he saw it again...

Something flowed from Yan Fei to Ji Jue's hand, entwining around the phantasm power opened up by the awakening, merging into the flame.

At this moment, when he looked at Ji Jue, after seeing through the appearance of the shell, he finally realized that terrifying gravitational force...

Like a black hole.

Just by existing here, it was constantly eroding this Yellow Millet dream, expanding its own range.

That appearance was just like... taking away other people's dreams!

No, rather than taking away, it's assimilation!

Yes, how could he forget this?

But in the end, this kind of out-of-spec phenomenon was too rare; even if he saw it, he would probably only doubt his own eyes.

The erosion and assimilation of Heart Pivot by Transformation...

Indeed, this guy before him, Heart Pivot, Aether, and Mirror, had absolutely no compatibility, but he had ignored the connection between the Supreme Goods.

The entanglement between Transformation and Heart Pivot.

The flow between desire and ideal, the entanglement between divinity and beastliness, sometimes repelling and opposing, sometimes complementing each other.

Both originate from the soul, both come from nature; one seeks inward, arrogantly or humbly moving toward the heights, one expands outward, greedily or restrainedly embracing everything.

Just as pure ideals are easily corrupted in the soaking of desires and distracting thoughts, determination that has not been lost and broken in the phantasm also possesses incomparable attraction to this phantasm.

When Heart Pivot dissolves Transformation, Transformation can also conversely assimilate Heart Pivot.

Just as he saw at this moment...

Making others willingly offer their dreams, their desires, and their souls with both hands!

Some people, just by existing, will constantly attract others to gather toward them; when a determination and spirit appear, it is enough to assimilate all ambitions and desires, turning everything into a part of oneself!

"Twisting and deforming the angel's power, then bestowing it on others?"

In the long night, the old craftsman sighed: "You really don't waste anything, your methods are brilliant..."

After all, the so-called angel, the so-called god-given power, isn't it something born from everyone's dreams and fantasies? Since that's the case, compared to the god who intends to monopolize all dreams and fantasies, this kind of method is actually more pleasing to the Ether Eye.

"It's just, in that case, rather than calling it an angel, it's more like a devil, right?"

"Then let's call it Devil Armament."

Ji Jue stared at the flickering lights in the camp and suddenly laughed: "Being a king in hell is also quite good."

After all, what else is there to lose in hell?

Gathering the demonic crowd, forging armaments.

The long, long arduous journey has just begun...

Crossing this nine-day, nine-night fall, we will eventually return above the clouds!