Chapter 127: Faith

This priest kept a pale golden beard and had eyes as clear and simple as an infant's; a cross pendant hung from his chest, and he watched all the praying believers with a warm smile.

"What are you plotting again?" A crow flew in from the outside, landed on the cross, and with extremely mischievous taste, hung upside down upon it.

It looked at those believers and the preaching priest, emitting a human voice, yet no believer noticed it.

"Do you want a 'Worm of Time'?"

Adam looked up and glanced at Amon, who had landed on the cross.

"'Worm of Time'?" The crow's eyes, marked by a black ring, stared fixedly at Adam. "You want me to help you?"

Adam did not speak, simply continuing his sermon.

The crow hopped up, flew onto the head of a believer, and bounced twice; the believer's fluffy hair made it feel very comfortable.

"I have no interest in your struggles; I would rather go to the Forsaken Land of the Gods and steal the 'Fantasy Land'."

The crow sat lazily on the head of the believer with fluffy hair, looking at Adam to the side.

"Fantasy Land?" Adam nodded slightly.

"Without becoming an 'Error', you will never be able to steal it." Adam was merely stating a fact.

How could the Fantasy Land, which was equivalent to a God's Kingdom, be so easily stolen? Perhaps only a true "Error" could exploit a certain loophole to accomplish this.

The crow jumped up from the fluffy hair and landed on Adam's shoulder.

"For me to become a god now is no different from suicide." Amon had an extremely clear understanding of his own situation.

But soon, he changed the subject, "However, trying it is also possible."

"Zoroast." Adam seemed to have anticipated this result long ago, merely speaking the name softly.

The crow that Amon had transformed into nodded gently, flew up directly, and left this church.

Adam continued his sermon, a process that lasted for a long time.

Until a certain moment, when Adam sensed a kind of "notarization" power from the Collective Subconscious Sea.

That was when Chumen nodded, formally agreeing to the transaction.

The hidden transaction between the two was reached, with the power of the Creator serving as the notary.

There was quite a bit of the Creator's power remaining in this world, the most being at that core battlefield where the Creator was assassinated and the Creator's Divine Kingdom in the Forsaken Land of the Gods.

Next were the second "Blasphemy Slate" in Adam's hands and the Divinity Badge hanging on Chumen's chest.

Chumen's Divinity Badge had once been personally imbued with power by the Creator during the era of the Ancient Sun God; later, when the Ancient Sun God became the Creator, the power within it became even more vast and immense.

Adam looked up at this moment and walked out of the church; all the believers turned a blind eye to him, and even in this Solomon Kingdom, which had over a dozen Angels, no one discovered his figure.

He was like a tourist drifting outside the world, calmly admiring the asymmetrical scenery of this city.

Adam gradually approached the Solomon Palace, and at a certain moment, turned toward another direction.

Surrounding the Solomon Palace were the Duke castles of the Solomon Angels.

And in the direction Adam walked, there was only one castle.

It belonged to Alistair Tudor.

After paying the price and reaching a deal with Dream, Adam had unexpectedly not gone to help Amon obtain the "Worm of Time," nor even to sabotage the Black Emperor's god-ascension ritual or plot the war of nation-building, but had come here instead.

A Dream Sea emerged in Chumen's eyes, and because of Chumen's words, the Despair Witch, who had subconsciously looked up to stare directly into Chumen's eyes, was instantly infatuated.

She saw the Dream Sea in Chumen's eyes, and reflected within the Dream Sea was Chumen's Mythical Creature Form.

Against the backdrop of the Dream Starry Sky, the Dream Body sat like a thinker in the starry sky, gazing into the distance at everything unknowable.

Countless Dream tentacles intertwined, gently flicking the Dream Bubbles, letting them collide in the high sky above the ocean, like a mischievous child flicking marbles—dreamy and beautiful.

"Dream be above!" The Despair Witch glimpsed Chumen's essence and knelt directly on the ground, praying devoutly.

"..." Chumen looked at the Despair Witch, listening to her praises and prayers, his heart not stirred by the slightest ripple.

While infinitely yearning to return to the Dream Kingdom and enter that legendary Fantasy Land, another force was surging within the Despair Witch.

Those were the people who had been killed by this Witch before him, endowed with endless pain and despair.

They had transformed into Wraiths, becoming this Despair Witch's weapons, circling her at all times, screaming, and attempting to backlash against the Witch.

These Wraiths and the devoutly praying Despair Witch formed an extremely sharp contrast.

Chumen was speechless for a moment; with this way of praying to Dream, even if you prayed until you died, you would not be glanced at by a Dream Statue.

And gradually, Chumen sensed another kind of power in the Despair Witch.

"Doomsday?" This was Sequence 1 of the Witch Pathway, capable of bringing doomsday disasters to the world, and would also become extremely powerful when the true "Doomsday" arrived.

"Cheek?" Chumen examined himself; he had no memories of this person, and he had even had little contact with Witches.

Those had all been orthodox Witches in the Creator Kingdom who possessed complete knowledge inheritance.

Those Witches were true women, and in their acting, they also went to the enemy's base of the Church to perform.

But Cheek was not!

In Chumen's memory, this person was likely synonymous with perversion and distortion, one of the best proofs of the madness at the bottom of this world.

Just like the Witch before him, her original gender was "he," which was very consistent with the essence of chaos and madness in this world.

"Why would Cheek be related to Dream? Could it be that she once received a favor from the Dream Sect?"

Chumen guessed at a reasonable beginning.

The Dream Sect, which yearned for beauty and also created beauty, had been spreading among humans for a thousand years; the number of people they had saved and helped was simply countless.

"Why do you believe in Dream?" Chumen looked at the Despair Witch.

"This is the Divine Oracle of the God of Witches, and it is also our own choice."

"But you have never received a response from Dream."

"Are you not responding to me now? You are Dream, the light of the Doomsday, the salvation of madness!"

The Despair Witch prostrated on the ground, looking up at Chumen upon hearing this, her expression fervent and even delirious.

Now, even if Chumen were to ask her to commit suicide in the most ordinary tone, she would pierce her own body with an ice spear without the slightest hesitation.

She might even imagine it to be a test of Dream, a necessary stage to reach Fantasy Land.

"..." Chumen was speechless once again; being stared at directly by such a fanatical believer felt strange and very eerie.

"Let me see why you believe in me..." Chumen's eyes fell upon the Witch, but his power was already being channeled along the direction of the faith to the source of the Witch's belief.