Chapter 38: The Gospel of Steel
Now!
Marcus's eyes sharpened, and he slightly raised his right hand, drawing the attention of the entire army.
Whoosh!
Marcus swung his right hand forward sharply!
"Fire!"
he coldly commanded.
"RAT-A-TAT-TAT—!"
"BOOM! BOOM-BOOM—!"
In an instant, the roar of cannons resounded through the sky, growing ever stronger, seemingly tearing the air apart and suffocating the priests.
"God!"
they cried, charging toward the soldiers, only to be swept away by machine gun fire.
"Fighting for God, I will be reborn in the divine realm!"
The head priest, coughing up blood, lay on the ground, uttering his last words.
A powerful shockwave spread outward, tearing apart the Ganges and revealing its riverbed.
A shrill and nauseating shriek echoed from Hastar's lair, only to be instantly swallowed by the scorching flames.
Planes roared overhead, dropping bombs at the ground. Amidst blinding flashes, the continuous barrage of high-explosive and incendiary bombs ravaged the earth.
The tower seal relayed a series of messages to Marcus:
[Completed Story Mission Two: Kill the Son of God, gain 3000 survival points, exploration progress and story score increased]
[Completed all story missions, can choose to return early]
[Additionally killed Divine Child, gain 3000 survival points]
[Additionally killed Divine Child, gain 3000 survival points]
A series of notifications reached Marcus.
ROAR!
A charred figure, sixty-five feet tall and engulfed in flames, rose from the Ganges, roaring as it lunged at the army.
This was Hastar, severed from its lair and stripped of its regeneration ability, but now possessing unsealed power. It truly lived up to its title as the eldest son of the goddess.
But with the densely packed army along the riverbank, it didn't even know which direction to attack first.
Another wave of bombing runs struck, blasting it into the mud.
Marcus felt relieved upon receiving the notification from the tower seal. These Divine Children indeed lacked the ability to resurrect and could be killed.
He stood quietly on the roof of the vehicle, watching the bombardment.
Hastar, listen to this gospel of steel!
The shells bombarded relentlessly for a full half hour before Marcus's tower seal finally transmitted another message:
[Additional kill of Divine Child, gain 3000 survival points]
Marcus understood that Hastar was completely dead and issued the order to cease fire.
The artillery fire stopped, but the thick smoke on the battlefield lingered, seemingly unsatisfied.
Marcus arrived at the Ganges River. The entire riverbed was devastated, the ground covered in black, muddy water.
He dipped his hand into the filthy water and activated his absorption ability. Streams of cool energy flowed into his body from the ground, and the black water actually cleared slightly.
Marcus quickly absorbed the remaining black water mixed with the blood of the Divine Children, feeling as refreshed as entering an air-conditioned room on a hot summer day and downing ice-cold beer.
His spirit was strengthened, and he could even observe his surroundings with his eyes closed.
He also felt he had gained some control over his emotions, able to manage his reactions better.
Clenching his fist, his physical abilities improved by more than half.
The most obvious change was that his skin felt incredibly resilient; even if a bullet hit him, it would probably only graze the surface, unlike before when a single bullet would leave a deep wound.
Marcus took out the Goddess's Coin Pouch and used his newly enhanced senses to probe inside.
This time, he easily broke through the membrane beneath the coin space and entered the pouch's deeper space.
This space was completely dark, seemingly absorbing some kind of energy from the outside. He was wrong earlier; the coins didn't originate from the inner space, but from the membrane itself.
These weren't the important points, though. The important point was that this deeper space was enormous, incredibly vast, approximately 35 million cubic feet—meaning it was roughly 330 feet long, wide, and high.
A strong adult has about 1.3 gallons of blood, and one cubic foot can hold about 7.5 gallons, meaning it would take an astronomical number of people to fill this space.
The moment Marcus's consciousness entered, he felt that the money pouch had recognized him as its master. Unless he died, only he could open the deeper space.
However, the information from the money pouch also disappointed Marcus. Although the space was large, the opening was only about three feet wide, and it couldn't hold anything too big.
Otherwise, he really wanted to put some serious hardware inside.
However, Marcus was already quite satisfied. He decided to rename the Goddess's pouch to the "Life Reservoir."
If he filled the Life Reservoir with blood, wouldn't he be able to survive almost anything?
Marcus looked up at the surrounding chaos. Pieces of dried bone were dissipating. Feeling the Life Reservoir in his hand, he couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction:
'The Goddess's wealth, even the life of the God of Greed, are mine.'
'I am greed incarnate!'
The only pity was that too few divine children had come—only eleven.
Two armored divisions were on the front lines, and 160 million divine children hadn't even formed a single battalion, showing how inflated that figure was.
Marcus turned and ordered a retreat. With such intense fighting, and Hastar dead, even if the other divine children awakened, they probably wouldn't dare come any further. Waiting any longer would be a waste of time.
"You sinner, you devil!"
"You will fall into Hell and suffer eternal torment in its fires!"
"God will not forgive you!"
A priest, wounded in the abdomen and barely clinging to life, glared at Marcus with venomous eyes, gritting his teeth.
"Hellfire?"
"Your imagination is too limited!"
Marcus glanced at the priest indifferently.
"Look back."
"Your god is already dead and bleeding out!"
The wounded priest froze upon hearing this.
He spat out a mouthful of blood and crawled laboriously toward the direction where his god had fallen. He reached a dark, waterlogged crater, kissed the soil, and closed his eyes.
"God—!"
With his last mournful cry, he wanted to join his deity.
Of course, not all of these priests were so devout.
About half of them turned against the army when they discovered the blasphemy; in war, no one shows mercy.
The other half of the priests who fled, except for a few who were hit by stray bullets, were all alive and well.
To have them preside over the ritual, Marcus gave each of them 10 gold coins, enough to live comfortably for three years in Pune.
Looking at the now calm Ganges, Marcus felt a pang of regret for the blood washed away by the current; his absorption range was limited, and he needed direct contact.
To attract the sleeping Divine Children and allow the water to carry the aura of the lair, he didn't dare block the river.
After some thought, Marcus decided to take a boat downstream to see if he could extract more.
He disliked wasting resources and always made sure to use everything he could.
Since he had a backup plan to teleport away at any time, encountering awakened Divine Children didn't concern him.
At this moment, a white straight-wing aircraft landed on the Ganges from mid-air and glided toward the army.
It was an S.5A seaplane from the Royal Air Force.
Marcus felt a nauseatingly pure aura from the plane.
Just an hour earlier, Marcus had contacted Governor Freeman to mobilize the Royal Air Force.
At the same time, Freeman also submitted an application to London, explaining the urgency and unavoidable circumstances.
He believed that as long as he submitted it in time, with him and Colonel Mitchell working together, the situation wouldn't be too serious.
Just as Parliament was about to approve the application, the Archbishop of the Anglican Church contacted them, saying he had noticed something amiss with the expeditionary force's commanding officer, suggesting he might be tainted by dark influences, and that an investigation was needed.
Parliament was alarmed and hastily rejected the application, but it was too late.
They could only quickly dispatch a special plane, carrying Bishop Edmund Hartford and the Church's holy relic, the 'Angel's Feather,' toward Pune, intending to investigate Mitchell.
Marcus watched the seaplane approach and allowed himself a cold smile.
He'd been to Hell. He'd met Pinhead. He'd killed a god.
Let's see what the Church thought they could do about it.
(End of Chapter)
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