Chapter 425: Madness

"Fall!" a demonic word full of filthy, corrupt meaning rang out.

The Prophet Avatar's surroundings took on an abyssal tendency, the air seeming to be covered with a slightly viscous black liquid.

As the signs of corruption just began to appear, a holy, clear, radiant and pure warm light followed, and the power of the Solar Domain instantly purified the newly emerged corrupt aura.

The Prophet Avatar lifted his free right hand, gathering brilliance, and formed a pure, blazing white spear that seemed made of pure sunlight.

The spear, the moment it took shape, was thrust outward, streaking a blazing white trail across the sky.

The dangerous premonition from the demonic transformation made Har Konstantin feel he could not evade the impending attack, so he summoned a gale that pulled his body back while the violent airflow formed a shield around him.

The blazing white streak easily pierced the gale‑formed shield, slashing across the massive demon's shoulder, instantly expanding and lighting up the night sky.

The overwhelmingly intense Solar Domain aura instantly dispersed the thin mist formed by the surrounding cold death aura, and also scattered the lingering undead; they fled back into the bronze gate standing on the deck.

Boom! The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground rang out, the towering demon silhouette vanished, and Har Konstantin reverted to his human body with slight sea‑monster traits; the flesh around his left arm became a blurred mass, still smelling of scorch.

As a Storm Path Exceptional, the Prophet Avatar's casually thrown spear did not cause extra harm to him; relying on his own powerful vitality, he stubbornly withstood the attack.

His body crashed straight into the cabin, accompanied by a clatter of shattering glass.

The Prophet Avatar's movement paused; his inspiration was suddenly triggered, as if something bad was about to happen.

"Danger! The underworld creature inside me is warning!"

Phoenix's voice came after the Prophet Avatar's inspiration was triggered.

The Prophet Avatar's eyes quickly flashed with a hint of white; his vision shifted, the surroundings instantly grew dim and eerie. He saw shattered mirror pieces scattered throughout the cabin and Har Konstantin lying among them.

He stared at the scattered mirror shards with a fascinated expression, as if through them he saw something extremely alluring.

At some point he picked up a shard, grasped it with both hands, and thrust it into his own heart area.

Boom! Boom! Boom! The sound of a heartbeat layered upon itself, growing clearer and louder, echoed throughout the Nueins.

At that moment, every pirate on the ship felt a pounding heartbeat, whether awake or unconscious, the thudding grew more intense, as if trying to burst through their chests.

Phoenix's gaze turned cold and deep, like the stare of the dead; he swiftly scanned the surroundings and said, "Their auras are gradually merging, strange, insane."

The silver‑white in the Prophet Avatar's eyes faded, and he roughly understood what had occurred.

*huff*—he let out a light sigh, gazing at the scarlet moonlight spilling from the sky, feeling the previously left secrecy fading, and mused,

"Yalina left herself a backup that isn't a backup; she has long, unknowingly, infected everyone on this ship, each of them being her resurrection conduit."

"When the original method fails, or when more than half the pirates on the ship die, this resurrection ritual will commence directly."

"Of course, once it reaches that stage, what awaits her is inevitable chaos; aside from the conflicting traits among these people, the amalgamation of so many wills, even if she is a demigod, can only end in mental collapse."

Xia pursed her lips, letting out a disdainful chuckle, and said:

"Heh, taking everyone to perish together before death, indeed something she would do."

"I was previously puzzled why her projection kept chatting with us; turns out she was delivering a last will."

"Shall we leave?" Phoenix turned his head toward Xia.

Xia shook her head slightly, bypassed the question and said, "How long can you keep this bronze gate standing?"

"If no fierce battle occurs, it can hold for ten minutes; the more spirit I expend, the shorter the duration."

Phoenix answered the question almost without thinking.

"Do you want to toss it into the underworld?" the Prophet Avatar asked, turning his head.

Xia spoke blandly, expressionless:

"I've said it before; I'm more than willing to send her to the underworld."

I didn't expect you meant physically sending her to the underworld, the Prophet Avatar muttered to himself.

A faint blue glow shimmered in his eyes as he whispered in draconic, "Secrecy!"

As he uttered the chant, he reached out and pulled a tranquil, silent night veil from the air, covering the soon‑to‑fail secrecy effect.

Boom! Boom! One black, snake‑like tentacle after another emerged from various parts of the Nueins.

These tentacles either wrapped black smoke, cloaked frost, or entwined silver‑white lightning; each tip bore an eye, open or closed, exuding a wildly brutal aura as if to annihilate everything they saw.

"Do not meet those eyes; you'll gradually petrify," the Prophet Avatar warned.

While speaking, he pushed both hands forward, generating a tide‑like pure golden light that coalesced ahead into a golden barrier.

A series of thudding slaps rang out, the golden shield quivered, scattering shards of light mixed with frost and black flame.

The silver‑white in the Prophet Avatar's eyes flashed and vanished; he mused, "It hasn't fully integrated traits and flesh for resurrection; these pirates' traits and wills are holding it back."

"Ten minutes. If after ten minutes we haven't solved it, we'll leave directly; once my aura is exposed, the Storm Church will soon notice this place."

Xia was silent for a moment, then replied calmly, "Fine."

The Prophet Avatar gave her a gentle nod, then stepped forward two paces, arms half‑spread as if embracing the rising sun.

His spirit surged wildly above the Nueins, spontaneously forming a massive pure light sphere entwined with countless holy flames, like a miniature sun, radiating terrifying light and heat.

Brilliant golden holy flames rained down like rain, dousing each black, snake‑like tentacle; frost, black flame, and lightning all melted away swiftly.

With a sizzle, the flesh of the black tentacles ignited, splashing specks of golden‑red fire like burning oil.

"Ah! So hot!"

"Help me"

"Don't… um~"

At the eye tips of the black tentacles, male and female human silhouettes sprouted, wailing in painful agony amid the golden flames, as if they were real people.

Their wails lasted only a moment; after realizing the onlookers were indifferent, they quickly suppressed their pained expressions.

Then the tentacles, as if having met eyes, paired up and tangled, the human silhouettes at their tips gazing affectionately at each other, their surfaces quickly cloaked in a gray‑white layer.

Golden holy flames fell upon those gray‑white stones, scorching them to crimson, yet failing to destroy them.

Wisdom? Or instinct? It seemed to be trending toward becoming a spirit item, the Prophet Avatar muttered, then, expressionless, turned his head toward the closed‑eyed Xia and Phoenix, and whispered:

"Is there any frost‑type spell? Or one that can create a water flow."

"Yes," Xia replied in a low voice.

While speaking, she stepped forward two steps, opened a little distance, and softly chanted a draconic word:

"Frost!"

Sparkling crystal light appeared in her hand, quickly condensed; after a moment, the sparkling flow of light in her hand was tossed upward, and in mid-air suddenly rained down strands of crystal-clear flowing light.

These streams of light, dense and numerous, quickly covered the entire deck, falling onto those petrified gray-white tentacles, instantly hanging up one icicle after another.

Pa— the Prophet's clone lightly snapped his fingers, and the shrunken sun in mid-air, following the river, burst forth terrifying light and heat, pouring down layers of golden-red firelight.

The ice crystals Xiya just created lasted only a moment before melting outright, not even giving time for vapor to form.

Along with the ice crystals melting, the gray-white stone also did; as the ice crystals melted, the gray-white stone statue showed fine cracks, and it was rapidly fissuring.

The Prophet's clone controlled that blazing white shrunken sun, pouring down more golden-red holy fire, enveloping all those tentacles within.

"Ah!"

"Help! Save me."

"I'm in so much pain, who can save me?"

"Ah~ I'm going to kill you, kill you."

Those tentacles howled again, their voices full of resentment and hatred, but their voices quickly faded, leaving only the crackling sound of ignited grease.

The golden-red flames continued burning for a minute or two, until no sound was heard at all; then the Prophet's clone stopped his action, allowing the blazing white shrunken sun in mid-air to gradually fade, and the holy fire sprinkled around also quickly vanished.

The Newins ship had already been ignited by the fierce firelight, the crimson firelight having spread throughout the entire vessel.

The Prophet's clone's pupils flickered, a hint of silver-white quickly passing; with the power of prophecy, he saw some things about to happen: in the ship's cabin, all things that could reflect light became deep and mysterious, as if inside lay countless things and layers of layered space.

Jet-black, lustrous strands of hair tangled together, flowing out from the mirror surface like a tide, surging, engulfing everything, devouring everything.

Anything they touched inevitably took on a layer of gray-white; fleshy things would twist, sprouting limbs and heads, becoming women of various sizes, with quite pleasing appearance.

They stretched their alluring, seductive bodies, exuding an irresistible charm.

Whether it was uneaten fish meat, or fish jerky made from dried sea fish, or even the scattered limbs of pirates from earlier battles, they all now became alluring, seductive women, displaying the charm of women at different stages—some pure, some alluring, some bold and open, some shy and restrained, some fiery passionate, some icy aloof—each exuding an indescribable charm that made one want to sink into them from the heart.

The images appearing in his mind ended here; if it continued, it would be the eternal witch's trait from the mirror world and the uncontrolled flesh directly devouring and assimilating the entire Newins ship.

The Prophet's clone lifted his gaze to the bronze door covered in intricate patterns, pondering as he spoke:

"Throw everything around that can reflect light into the underworld; the trait and flesh hidden in the mirror world have completely run amok; the will of the primordial witch once descended upon her, perhaps leaving some contamination."

(End of chapter)