CHAPTER 205: CHAPTER 163: OFFER THE SOUL TO THE EVIL GOD_2

Turzan realized that his skin was collapsing and knew that once everything was over, he would have to find a new skin again. Perhaps he would have to support another new Pope to convey his will to the Empire, but it was all worth it.

He saw an inconspicuous arrow pierce through Lindong’s body, leaving a finger-sized puncture wound.

To a Saint, this was only a trivial injury, yet the sealed domain became shattered because of this wound. The fissure could no longer be repaired, spreading visibly fast until the domain shattered like glass.

Time resumed its flow once more.

Turzan, already disheveled, climbed up from the ground. He saw that the people fighting on the battlefield had resumed their actions, and before the light from the left side of his body dissipated, he swung his fist, piercing through Lindong’s spine.

Sunlight once again fell on him, dispelling the coldness that froze the soul.

This is the taste of victory, so wonderful, so... surreal, even somewhat unreal.

Everything was proceeding according to his plan.

He had rehearsed this battle countless times in his mind, so victory was inevitable.

Everything about the Lindong Witch was destined to end today!

Turzan watched Lindong’s body fall forward, crashing onto the ground, turning into shattered ice, melting before his eyes. In the final moment, he met those red pupils.

Lindong raised the corners of her mouth at him, her eyes full of mockery.

This shouldn’t be the gaze of a loser.

Turzan warily retreated, but the anticipated counterattack did not come. He looked around confusedly, but lost sight of the Lindong Witch.

He listened to the roars on the battlefield, and the crowd fighting against each other, the flickering magic and the flames from muskets made everything seem so unreal, making him feel as if he were watching a pre-planned performance. This was how he envisioned the battle in his mind, and everything was going on methodically.

With the death of the Lindong Witch, the world became untrue, and he was momentarily dazed.

It’s like...

The feeling mentioned earlier, when the soul is extracted from the body.

Suddenly, Turzan saw himself.

Many versions of himself.

The people fighting on the battlefield had all become his appearance; some shot through by muskets, some torn apart by magic. Even more terrifying was that among the crowd were the skins he had used before—those identities were secrets only he knew. Why did they appear here?

"Are you satisfied with such a result?"

Turzan still couldn’t find Lindong’s figure. The voice seemed to come from the clouds, drowning him from all directions. He looked up suspiciously, only to see the scorching sun turn into a crimson eye, red light filling the world.

His pupils shrank, and in an instant, his soul and the broken skin rose in the air, as if an invisible hand grasped him, neither skin nor body could move, like a puppet.

This isn’t Lindong’s domain magic.

Or rather, it’s definitely not the elemental magic Turzan knows.

The broken skin was lifted into the air by the invisible hand, forcing him to look up and meet the blood-colored sun.

He felt a familiar yet terrifying sensation.

At this moment, he...

Is staring at the Evil God.

Even Saints appear insignificant in front of Them, like ants that could be crushed at any time.

No, this isn’t Lindong Witch.

But something else that merely looks like Lindong!

Had he known in advance what he was facing, he would never have appeared here.

Turzan was prepared for both outcomes; appearing here was just his skin. Even if his calculations went wrong, unable to seize the fleeting moment, only his skin would be destroyed.

However, at this moment, his soul was squeezed in the hand of the Evil God, like those offerings about to be sacrificed.

"Who are you, what exactly are you!?"

Turzan questioned loudly, as if only this could mask the fear in his heart.

"It’s Lindong."

The voice from above responded, "How strange, shouldn’t you be happy? Your wish has finally come true. I went through a lot of trouble fulfilling your wish."

The blood-colored sun stared at him, "After all, being killed by someone like you is quite difficult... 4,023 times, or is it 4,024 times?"

It seemed to ponder, "Yes, it should be 4,024 times. I didn’t expect you to die so many times in a blink, so celebrate a bit, at least this time you saw the result you wanted."

Turzan heard laughter.

Crazed laughter everywhere stacked together, the whole world leaving only him, and 4,024 shattered souls in different ways.

"Since your wish is fulfilled, according to the agreement, I’ll take your soul."

The invisible hand exerted slight pressure, and the skin and soul suspended in the air were crushed into a rain of blood falling to the ground.

After the intense disorientation dissipated, Turzan saw the familiar scene again.

He returned to the beginning.