Chapter 37: The Priests Sacrificed Their God
The ground began to tremble slightly, and a line of heavy trucks, tanks, and armored vehicles appeared in the field of vision like a river of steel.
Two armored divisions, 21,456 men, plus 200 Royal Air Force fighter planes.
This included 317 tanks, over 100 heavy artillery pieces, over 400 cannons, and more than 2,000 vehicles and transport trucks in total.
This was the military force Marcus had mobilized in the past three days, and they had all arrived at the Ganges River.
"Report, sir, all personnel assembled, awaiting orders."
"Aim at the target area, stand by."
As soon as the words were spoken, fighter planes streaked across the sky, their roars echoing.
The 'Hastar' lair was dragged by a giant truck and slowly appeared at the Ganges River.
A clearing of about 27,000 square feet had been prepared on the banks of the Ganges, and wooden planks had been laid to form an altar. On the altar stood 417 shrines.
417 goddess priestesses, dressed in magnificent attire, each occupied their respective positions. This was all the goddess priestesses that could be found in the west.
The priests began preparations, lighting incense, purifying themselves, and calming their minds.
Attendants beside the wooden poles of the altar rang the copper bells on the wooden frames, the clear sound of the sacrificial bells signaling the start of the ritual.
Led by the head priest, the priests faced the Ganges, standing solemnly and respectfully, raising vessels filled with Ganges water in their most solemn expressions to offer prayers.
After the prayers, the priests returned to their respective altars, chanting and burning incense to the sound of the copper bells.
A multitude of sacrificial offerings, including cobra torches, ritual items, copper bells, ceremonial lamps, peacock feathers, and yak tails, were presented in turn, circling in an orderly fashion from all four directions.
After each ritual offering was completed, holy water and flowers were sprinkled into the Ganges.
Two thousand devotees of the goddess, surrounding the altar, pierced their tongues and cheeks with silver needles, or suspended themselves with iron hooks through their arms and backs, walking barefoot on burning coals.
They expressed their faith in this way, measuring their devotion by the degree of pain and bloodshed they endured.
Marcus didn't know if their gods appreciated it, but the Cenobites would certainly appreciate this method.
They circled the altar, displaying their faith and hoping for divine blessings.
When the ceremony reached its climax, all the priests stood together, raised their arms toward the Ganges, and chanted ancient prayers.
The head priest glanced at Marcus, who understood.
"Present the offering!" Marcus gestured toward the trucks.
The 'Hastar' lair, slowly pushed by four bulldozers, sank entirely into the Ganges.
Seeing the offering being pushed into the Ganges, the priests chanted even louder.
Marcus concealed part of the offering from the priests, only telling them it was an offering, without specifying what it was.
The priests assumed it was a large ritual object, believing Marcus to be a devout believer who would prepare such a sincere offering.
At that moment, all the soldiers received their orders and shouted,
"Hastar is here! Hastar is here! Hastar is here!"
The shouts echoed along the Ganges.
Upon hearing the name, the priests paled, their chanting ceasing abruptly. They stared at Marcus in terror, some already fleeing.
BANG! BANG!
Two fleeing priests fell to the ground.
"Continue chanting!"
the soldier supervising them from the armored vehicle said coldly, pointing his rifle at them.
The chanting resumed, but the tone was much weaker and lower.
The flour layer on the surface of the lair, washed away by the river, began to peel away, revealing a scarlet outer layer. This red grew increasingly vivid, as if it were about to drip blood.
The shriveled lair slowly swelled up, becoming round.
Countless roars emanated from within, the outer layer constantly writhing and bulging, like a spider egg about to hatch countless tiny spiders.
The ever-flowing Ganges River seemed to change as well.
The water gradually became still, yet also turbulent, filled with an unsettling sense of contradiction.
It seemed as if a fierce presence was emanating from all directions, tracing its course along the river, sending chills down the spines of ordinary people!
Those present seemed to sense the change in atmosphere; the soldiers were focused, their arms tense, ready to fire at any moment.
"It's here!" someone exclaimed.
SPLASH!
Water erupted as a figure burst from the riverbed, hurtling toward the 'Hastar' lair.
It was humanoid, over thirteen feet tall and massive, with a head like a withered toad, red lava flowing from its belly, and a purple maw spewing flames.
"A Divine Child!"
"It's the Torch Bearer! The Divine Child!"
The priests cried out in alarm, their voices rising like a tidal wave as they knelt in unison.
The soldiers held their breath, silently awaiting Marcus's order to attack.
Marcus stood atop an armored vehicle beside the helicopter, its rotors whirring, ready to lift off at the slightest sign of trouble.
The Torch Bearer ignored everyone present, tearing at the goddess's womb with its fan-like, claw-like hands.
"Hastar!"
The Torch Bearer let out a strange, low growl, its tone somewhat resembling Hastar's name.
Blood and flesh splattered, tissue ruptured, and the seemingly indestructible goddess's womb was quickly torn open, a gaping hole ripped through it. The power of the same origin could indeed destroy a goddess's womb.
Countless Hastars, like spiders hatching from their egg sac, swarmed toward the Torch Bearer.
The Torch Bearer's belly swelled, its purple maw snapped open, and a burst of flame incinerated the swarm of Hastars into ashes.
But a relentless stream of Hastars continued to surge forth, trying to bite the Torch Bearer and pass on the rotting curse to it.
The Torch Bearer, however, continued to tear at the lair with its claws while spewing scorching flames, widening the opening.
WHOOSH! SLASH!
At that moment, a figure pierced through the goddess's womb from below, emerging from the top amidst the shattered remains of Hastars, soaring into the air.
Another child of the gods had arrived.
It was over ten feet tall, withered and emaciated, its skin blue, resembling a featherless bird, its limbs sharp as blades.
"A god!"
the priests cried out, kneeling and weeping.
"Our god has returned!"
"It's the Blade Dancer! The ninth divine child!"
"Blade Dancer, please forgive my sins!"
"This is a divine war! Oh God, I'm guilty! I'm guilty!"
The priests went completely mad, some even bowing and prostrating themselves toward the lair.
This time, no soldiers stopped them, because everyone gripped their weapons tightly, awaiting their commander's orders; only steel and artillery fire could give them a sense of security.
"Sir!"
The four staff officers beside him exchanged glances and couldn't help but shout in unison.
"No rush. The time is not yet right."
Marcus's calmness eased their tension slightly. They had participated in hundreds of operations, but this was their first engagement against non-human entities.
The Blade Dancer and Torch Bearer began to coordinate. The Torch Bearer blocked countless Hastars, while the Blade Dancer spun like a top, frantically tearing apart the Hastar lair.
The distant river churned again, the water surging with waves sixteen feet high, as if propelled by a pod of whales.
The giant waves crashed against Hastar's lair, and nine more monsters appeared, each with bizarre features: serpent heads, rotting faces, two heads, multiple limbs—a veritable carnival of grotesques.
Hastar's lair was instantly torn in half; no new Hastars appeared, but the remaining Hastar was rapidly expanding in size.
Ten feet, sixteen feet, twenty-three feet, thirty-three feet!
Marcus watched the chaos unfold, his hand hovering over the radio. He'd been to Hell. He'd met Pinhead. He'd fought demons in subway tunnels.
But this—this was something else entirely.
"Wait for it," he murmured. "Wait for it..."
(End of Chapter)
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