Chapter 395: What Does a Pig Brain Overload Feel Like?

Die!

Even though it was only two or three seconds, that brief moment was enough for Te Nisi to twist his waist, turn, and unleash a strong, powerful assassination.

But at the instant this inevitable attack was about to land, not to mention any sense of resistance, the sharp spear tip seemed to pierce only air, because the enemy simply vanished.

???

Meanwhile, on the other side, Ji Ming, who was frantically scooping people with a teleportation array, pulled the limp Du She out of the portal.

"Hey, why did you die?"

Ji Ming didn't expect the old lady to be so ruthless; knowing the opponent was alive, she truly attacked with mental power, and did so at full power, as if boiling the brain.

Thus Du She now looks terrifying, blood oozing from seven orifices, smoke billowing from the head, needing no makeup to become a new horror classic on screen.

Even though she is an enemy defector, she has recently been diligent, speaking and acting quite well, and she can't just die at the hands of her own people.

There was no choice; Ji Ming could only soak her plant‑like tail into SpiritGathering Liquid, then cast a mind magic to begin repairing her brain.

"Wait a moment, that was strange just now—what's that smell?... Oh, it's the scent of roasted brain flowers, never mind..."

Fortunately it was just pure violent damage; with SpiritGathering Liquid sustaining life, the broken plant‑person can be patched and refurbished, still usable as a brand‑new unit.

Three minutes later, Du She trembled once and opened her eyes blankly.

"Ah, what happened? I remember I..."

Why is the speech normal now?

Seeing Du She neither shouting nor laughing inexplicably, and even her expression seemed utterly rational, Ji Ming felt a surge of joy and hurried to explain.

"Oh, you just fought the Radiant Light Archbishop and accidentally had your brain burned, and I skillfully revived you from the brink of death."

If you were a normal person, hearing such horrifying words would make you shiver, and it would be terrifying enough.

However, after a brief recollection, Du She's face showed a hint of regret.

"What a pity, what a pity..."

Ji Ming: It's over!

In remorse, tears even welled up in her eyes.

"I seem to have lost that piece of memory! By the way, what does it feel like to have your brain burned by a mental attack?"

She turned her head.

"Lord, since you also know mind magic, you can surely help me do it again, can you keep the memory this time, and let me experience it more in the future?"

"Get out!"

Before Du She could utter more harsh words, he opened a portal and, without a word, threw her inside.

But before closing the door, he added a sentence.

"Go, your next destination is the Divine Realm!"

"What? I can... I can go to the Divine Realm!?"

Although abrupt, for Du She it was an unexpected burst of joy.

One must understand that a Divine Realm founded by Thus we will have Cultivation: Zhen Shen like Mi Lin lies beyond the world and cannot be entered casually.

Therefore, as a Flower-level Envoy and the hidden faction's Assassin Master, this is her first time in the legendary Divine Realm.

And as the fundamentally deceptive Church organization, even Weak Gods or Evil Gods, when depicting their Divine Realm, inevitably portray it as a beautiful paradise.

Whether it's a copper‑coin fried chicken, a village spawning succubi, or a per‑capita mage tower... they hype whatever is beautiful, exaggerate whatever they can.

Thus in Du She's imagination, the supreme being who rules all life is a resounding, transcendent deity beyond the entire planet, and his Divine Realm must be so grand it defies description.

At minimum, there must be dragons guarding the gates, angels offering omens, Divine Artisans forging weapons, Holy Masters preaching, and everywhere wondrous sights and peaceful, joyful saints.

In short, with hopeful prayers, Du She slowly opened her eyes and truly saw an Angel looking down at her.

But it wasn't the kind of welfare Angel in a two‑foot dress with blond hair and blue eyes; it was a fully armored, fiercely loyal battle Angel.

Flames blazed in the Angel's eyes, and she was instantly terrified into silence.

"Oh, you're alive."

Only after the Angel inexplicably tossed that line and left did she dare to sit up boldly, instantly grasping its meaning.

It turned out she was on a lush green meadow, surrounded by bodies of fanatics that were constantly materializing, sliced, and chopped in midair, like a slaughterhouse.

But the slaughterhouse wasn't unattended; amid the chaos, several tall yet slender humanoids made entirely of grass and branches were picking through the bodies, speaking in a strange accent.

"Hey, where is this person's arm?"

"Seems like, it should be this one."

"No, no, the model's wrong!"

…Even if Du She is a lunatic, their speech sounds absurdly dumb, possessing a certain low‑IQ charm.

Yet the tree‑people, foolish as they are, act without hesitation, persistently assembling the corpses like children playing blocks, then placing them all onto a nearby empty area.

After patrolling the area, the Angel returned, raised a hand, and performed a seemingly cost‑free Resurrection Technique, reviving all the low‑level fanatics.

Moreover, because the Angel's magic inherently purifies, all drug residues in their bodies were cleared, restoring normal minds.

But heretics are heretics; upon seeing their surroundings, they instantly erupted in fierce resistance, bones clanking, ready to sacrifice themselves.

Especially when they saw their own Lord Du She not helping them resist, but instead slinking into the tree‑people ranks, lowering the enemy's average height.

"Lord Du She, why are you just watching? Have you truly betrayed us?"

"Ah, this."

Du She, rarely feeling any shame, hesitated before speaking.

"I only wanted to find a way out for everyone, don't you think I've used you as cannon fodder excessively?"

Xi Er Wei Ya: "..."

"Ah! The 'I' here refers to the Church; I haven't harmed you, don't hold grudges lightly!"

Mi Lin believers: "..."

They were about to curse angrily when the poison snake's self‑reversal left them unable to respond, and they all fell into silence.

Dúshé: "……"

Then the two sides stared at each other like clowns for a moment, and finally Xī'ěrvēiyà, who had work to do, broke the stalemate.

"Forget it, reasoning with these blindly loyal people is useless; we might as well cleanse their minds with spirit magic first."

"Wait a moment!"

"But even if there's a little recourse, who would want to have their mind toyed with?"

"Now, without the drug interfering with their thoughts, one believer whose eyes flashed with sharp light immediately shouted to stop the angel's action."

"My lord, if…… you grass‑mud horse, if you want to die, go die! … Sorry, I mean, if we continue to resist, are you going to alter our memories?"

The great angel, however, did not answer directly, but waited a moment, as if looking at something, before nodding.

"Yes, I will let you know who truly deserves loyalty."

As soon as that was said, the crowd murmured and shoved for a few seconds, and then a forest believer grabbed their throat.

"Why us? What about the previous believers? How…… why didn't you win them over?"

Everyone chimed in: "Right, right!"

But this reply came quickly.

"Damaged machinery can be repaired, but melted cannot; their minds have been utterly destroyed by this life‑costing potion, so there's no need to revive them."

"Good heavens……"

The quartermaster clearly said when distributing the potion that it was a combat‑effective drug with many benefits, never mentioning such terrible side effects.

A believer let out a lament, turned to look at their similarly troubled companions, and steeled themselves.

"So what do you want us to do? Are you asking us to betray our deity?"

The angel seemed to have the answer ready, without hesitation.

"I'm merely giving you a way out, and I emphasize again that it was your deity who first, for their own shameful desire, betrayed you with extremely vicious means."

"……"

Each of her answers eased the believers' agitation, until even the most stubborn old fellow released his grip on the young person beside him.

He grabbed his forehead, bereft of the few white hairs left, and asked the crucial question.

"What's in it for us?"

The angel said nothing, but raised a hand and summoned a gust of wind out of thin air.

But this wind was not a fierce blast that could tear people to dust; it was mingled with magic, a field that let them experience flight.

For a wingless species, flight is not a right everyone can enjoy, so the crowd immediately cried out with varied emotions.

Yet there was more to surprise them, for as they rose they discovered they were actually in a clearing of an underground forest.

Even by the objective laws of the Yangyue Magic World, such vast vegetation could not arise naturally underground; this must be the great creation of intelligent beings.

Such a great creation cannot be obtained by mere talk; it requires massive investment of manpower and material resources.

Moreover, in many special fields, quantitative change alone cannot bring qualitative change, so the carrier of these miracles must be an existence—or several—of a level so high it's frightening.

So……

Is it necessary?

Is it necessary to expend so much just to conjure a forest underground?

Considering that anyone capable of building a church is nothing but deceitful and crafty, they could only reach a terrifying conclusion.

——The Lord doesn't care.

(Just typing these four words "good grief" makes even me shudder.)

They were thinking, the wind didn't stop blowing, and as it carried them over the vast forest, the far edge of their vision revealed a vast checkerboard made of green.

But on this checkerboard stood only a single piece—a towering tree whose crown reached the ceiling, its lush foliage thick as clouds, rooted in the middle of a lake.

Moreover, it's unclear whether it's because they are essentially forest believers with an affinity for wood element, or because the giant tree's tranquil, distant aura is simply too infectious.

Among the crowd, someone worldly‑wise rolled their eyes and twitched their lips.

"Could this be the Lord of All Living Beings himself?"

Before the crowd could hold their breath, the great angel beside them shook their head at the words.

"No, just like me, this is merely one of the protectors serving the Supreme God."

"A protector, or merely one of them……"

Once they were above the lake, the wind shifted, letting them drift slowly down toward the island at the lake's center.

The stubborn old man with the toughest mouth might have been a little afraid of heights; his face looked bad the whole way up, and only when the altitude dropped did he dare look around—then he flopped down with a slap.

"Look at the ground—what are those?!"

In the midst of confusion, the forest believers flung into the Underground Divine Kingdom had already fallen into the rhythm of an elementary school spring outing.

The story splits; those who didn't get in are in for a rough time.

The assassin master, on whom great hopes were pinned, was killed before they could act, and the elite lunatics bereft of their daggers became mere cannon fodder.

What's worse is that they still retained a shred of rationality—an advantage that makes sweeping with the wind more slick and counter‑killing easier in a melee, but the downside is that in a strong headwind they still break and flee.

Now it was Bailixiang's turn to cooperate; as the various wood‑rank envoys were stunned by the mysterious disappearance of elite believers and even the poison snake, he was the first to nail down the definition.

"Oh no! That archbishop is a monster who's been alive since five hundred years ago, probably wielding some terrifying space‑banishment magic."

Afterward, some curious kid will surely ask him what space‑banishment magic is, and Bailixiang can then blather on, relying on his persona as a professional scholar.

"This is a new field of study created by a holy magus serving the Iron‑wrist Holy Maiden ten thousand years ago, also recorded in *The Wonderful Tale of the Space God*……"

Anyway, this is Holy Light's turf; the Forest God dare not glance their way.

Whoever could implant false memories in everyone present could also fool the deities, so Bailixiang's confident, loquacious demeanor.

……Wait a minute, deceiving the gods?

He even felt a bit excited; what could be more thrilling than this?

As for why he felt no sympathy like a rabbit mourning a fox, didn't panic, and showed no special reaction when he saw the poisonous snake drop dead on the spot.

It wasn't because he was cold‑hearted and kept his emotions hidden; it was because this was part of the Supreme God's plan.

Alas, since the side that was assassinated needs someone to take the fall, how could the assass' side escape paying a price?

If the poisonous snake, after failing a second assassination, stubbornly kept trying for a third, there's an eighty percent chance it would end up being purged by the Holy See—a fate of certain death.

No matter how you say it, she's now one of our own; Ji Ming couldn't push her into a pit of fire, so letting her use her own "death" as a curtain call would be the best exit.

The spy work that follows could be replaced with thyme, which is more suited to this; that way, Ji Ming's spy network he'd developed wouldn't be broken.