Chapter 453: The Sleeping Street

Roar~

An exaggerated roar burst from the giant bear's mouth, as if it could pierce a person's eardrum, its terrifying might shaking the surrounding ground, making the once solid earth ripple like a sea and raise wave after wave of earth.

The previously dense forest along the riverbank instantly toppled in all directions, some trees were flung into the air, and the corpses that had been buried underground were unearthed, only to be quickly reburied again.

Strands of crimson, hazy moonlight slipped through the toppled forest, and a few indistinct figures leapt among the fallen trees, swiftly moving away.

The undulating ground around soon settled, and a hazy moonbeam materialized beside the giant bear, reforming Bei Ersi's body.

He turned his head to glance at Bishop Ma Ti Na of the Earth Church, who maintained the giant bear's stance beside him, slightly tilting his head to gaze at the bear's skull, and said bluntly:

"You scared away all those guys hidden around here."

Ma Ti Na paid no mind to Bei Ersi's tone, and simply said lightly:

"'Crimson Eye' Bei Ersi? It seems your blood clan places great importance on this operation."

Bei Ersi forced a courteous smile, his gaze steady and wary of the surroundings, and said:

"Not only us value it; those lunatics who worship the Primordial Moon also do, even the Rose Sect members were coaxed over by them. I wonder what price they paid."

"Ha, no price needed; how could those indulgent ones miss such an event?"

A hoarse, low voice cut off Bei Ersi's words, fragments of broken red scales made of hazy moonlight instantly converged, reshaping into a slender figure cloaked in a black robe.

Snap! He snapped his fingers lightly, scattering shards of crimson moonlight.

Chh! Chh! sounds erupted as a snarling arm emerged from the ground, followed by a head and torso; the corpses that the earth waves raised and buried by Ma Ti Na all revived, undergoing significant mutations.

The corpse's pallor and mottling faded quickly, a pattern of crimson and pale blue faintly surfaced on the bodies, and a sharp smell of sulfur instantly filled the air.

"Although these corpses are merely failed specimens in the patron's evolutionary research, they are not entirely useless."

The black‑robed Primordial Moon believer spoke mockingly, yet his body vanished instantly, becoming transparent under the crimson moonlight.

Bei Ersi's figure simultaneously faded away, and the two again transformed into crimson moonlight, intertwining.

Now a giant bear, Ma Ti Na took exaggerated strides forward, swinging her brown bear claws to tear the altered corpses apart.

Because the Upper River District near the Pas River is where the local natives are most concentrated, their lives are far from pleasant; they must exhaust all effort just to survive. The environment is harsh and the security is extremely chaotic.

The people here are stubborn and xenophobic, making faith propagation hardest; neither the overt Knowledge Church nor the covert New Faith have taken root, and most still worship the fallen Death God, at least outwardly.

This is also the area most affected by the Primordial Moon; over half the residents have eaten the luminous mushrooms, becoming preparatory puppets—or even test subjects—for the Primordial Moon's followers.

The locals have formed a small‑scale belief in the Primordial Moon, though most are not particularly devout.

Under the crimson moonlight, in an unremarkable corner, brilliant star glimmers surged from the void, coalescing into rays that revealed Lei Ke Dun's figure.

His eyes radiated a deep blue‑purple glow, his gaze easily piercing the surrounding houses and walls, taking in the entire area's condition.

Most people here fell into a hallucinatory state, their bodies contorted as they collapsed where they stood, continuously uttering disjointed, meaningless syllables that sounded noisy and layered.

They had all, to varying degrees, consumed the phosphorescent mushrooms, accumulating toxins and pollutants in their bodies, which now detonated.

The remaining ordinary people who hadn't eaten the mushrooms almost all fell into sleep, their faces twisted as if trapped in a dream both painful and joyous, emotions bubbling within.

"I have also become despicable for my own purposes, deliberately allowing those Primordial Moon believers' actions."

Lei Ke Dun lowered his eyes, muttering to himself in a complex tone.

The full moon in the sky suddenly turned a vivid blood‑red, spirituality quickly blossomed, and inspiration grew stronger; even ordinary people could easily see things normally unseen and hear sounds usually unheard.

The surrounding cacophony of meaningless syllables rose and fell, soon gaining rhythm; the noisy sounds unified, a bizarre atmosphere spread, and even the air seemed to grow viscous.

"Great. Mother Life"

No need for devout faith and prayer from the believers; instead, large‑scale prayers induce resonance, causing a qualitative change. Lei Ke Dun's gaze deepened for a moment, then, as if by magic, he tossed a pea onto the ground.

The pea instantly sprouted, turning into thick, verdant vines that rained down, covering the entire city.

They intertwined, quickly forming a forest that layered upward, its canopy invisible, yet cleverly isolated from reality, no longer affected by the blood moon.

The previously unified unconscious babble turned chaotic again, and the gradually brewing bizarre atmosphere vanished completely.

Those who had lain on the emerald‑woven ground, uttering unconscious babble, suddenly awoke, rose quickly, and surrounded Lei Ke Dun from all directions.

"Your puppets are more than I imagined."

Lei Ke Dun let out a faint sigh without expression, his gaze sweeping the controlled puppets, unable to locate the hidden core—had the core already left the city? Or had he concealed himself?

"Useless" "People who ate that special mushroom" "Covered the entire Pas River Valley" "Missing the people of this city" "Not a huge impact"

The controlled puppets around spoke intermittently; despite differing voices and tones, their words formed a cohesive whole.

Consciousness drifted among the puppets, seemingly without hierarchy; neither a Master of Secret Puppets nor a Parasite, multi‑threaded control inevitably caused issues.

He murmured inwardly, then slightly opened his hands, and stars fell one after another, swirling around him.

As the gaze of the Secret‑Peeking Eye locked onto the now‑puppet figures, the brilliant starlight surrounding him streamed outward, landing on the scattered puppets.

The starlight instantly condensed, forming massive translucent amber that imprisoned and isolated the puppets.

Lei Ke Dun's motions did not cease; more stars materialized in midair, dense and dazzling.

The shining stars poured out successive rays, as if drawn, converging onto the transparent amber, forming a bright light cocoon.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Sensing danger, the controlled puppets thrashed violently, their bodies beginning to mutate.

Some sprouted coarse, dark‑brown short hair, their bodies swelling into twisted, upright brown bears; others' arms ballooned, nails lengthening into sharp, sturdy claws, spines hunched, gray short hair sprouting, turning them into wolf‑like monsters; still others' veins bulged, half pale blue, half crimson, and they coughed black smoke with a pungent sulfur smell.

These mutated puppets raged, attacking the translucent amber that trapped them, as if unaware of pain; even shattered claws and broken arms did not halt them.

In terms of physical strength, these puppets have reached the seventh‑rank Extraordinary level, and with the abilities granted by their modifications, even a sixth‑rank Extraordinary might be overwhelmed; this guy truly is a talent, albeit a mad one.

Lei Ke Dun sighed softly in his mind; having gathered enough data via the Secret‑Peeking Eye, the bright starlight that fell seemed to find a weak point, swiftly dismantling the fragile structures of the mutated puppets and gradually dissolving their bodies.

They acted as if lacking normal senses, striking and tearing the translucent amber without pause, even as their bodies fell piece by piece.

First some medium‑sized chunks of flesh, then a finger, an arm segment, a thigh—until they completely collapsed and vanished.

Having eliminated all exposed puppets, Lei Ke Dun lightly snapped his fingers; the surrounding star glow faded quickly, and the translucent amber turned into specks of starlight and disappeared.

Only glints of emerald, crimson, pale blue, or pallid light remained, wavering and gradually forming a vortex that began to coalesce slowly.

He glanced once, then withdrew his gaze; reaching out, he pulled a layer of peaceful, tranquil night from the void, covering all those affected by the Primordial Moon.

Afterwards, the layers of verdant vines surrounding began to retract, and the peculiar space isolated from reality dissipated along with it.

Blinding sunlight poured down from the sky, and Lecron squinted slightly, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

It seems the clone has already caught up to the main body of that Soryk; I can first go help the Church of Knowledge clear out the military forces of Loen and Intis, then deal with the Rose School of Thought and the Spirit Cult's royal faction still hidden in the shadows.

As soon as a thought stirred, his figure turned into specks of brilliant starlight and vanished on the spot.

North bank of the Pas River Valley, where the Loen troops are stationed.

A figure swiftly took shape in midair, he silently gazed down for two seconds, his loose black fur coat swaying constantly in the cold wind, his half-black, half-white hair bearing the weathered look of having endured long years.

Prak lightly rubbed his right thumb twice against the index finger bearing that ring set with an emerald-green gem, and an invisible ripple instantly spread.

The originally bright crimson moonlight instantly dimmed, replaced by a layer of tranquil, serene night curtain, a feeling of peace and tranquility descending with specks of starlight.

In utter silence, a deep, heavy drowsiness swallowed everything, whether those already asleep or troops on duty, all without exception fell into a deep slumber.

Only some mid-sequence Beyonders could barely resist the sudden fatigue and quickly respond.

"Enemy attack!" A harsh, grating voice mixed with spiritual disturbance instantly blanketed the entire military zone.

As soon as that voice appeared, it was intercepted by several suddenly emerging jellyfish-like anomalous spirit bodies; the intangible sound waves seemed to gain substance before them, easily blocking and consuming these sounds.

The spiritual disturbance mixed into that voice seemed to cause them indigestion; their semi-transparent tentacles coiled themselves into a ball, bumping around the surroundings as if suffering from a stomach upset.

This place prohibits sinking.

A voice with an indescribable sense of majesty emanated from another direction, as he invoked the word "Prohibit" in the ancient Hermes language.

Before this "Prohibit" could fully form, his words suddenly got stuck, as if he had abruptly lost the ability to speak.

In the next moment, thick emerald vines poured down from the sky like a downpour, blanketing the surrounding area, intertwining into a vast emerald-green forest, layer upon layer, with no visible boundary.

Lecron's figure reassembled amidst the specks of brilliant starlight, and all the still-conscious Beyonders in this area were pulled by him into this wondrous forest isolated from the outside world.

(End of chapter)