Chapter 117: Bringing the Fanatics Back

Before they had covered even half the distance, the three men were reduced to charred, humanoid husks, their flesh withering visibly.

When the two sides collided, three deafening explosions erupted!

Three blinding pillars of fire shot into the sky, exploding amid the Snakefolk army like incendiary bombs. The flames of faith formed a blazing sea, halting the Snakefolk's advance.

Countless Snakefolk shrieked in agony as the holy fire consumed them.

Watching from the Stone Seat, Su Mu realized for the first time that his hypnotism wasn't unparalleled. The brainwashing of the Primal Divine Cult might actually be superior to his own.

He could send his thralls to their deaths, but burning alive was an excruciating way to die. Extreme pain usually shattered hypnotic control—unless the subjects had undergone the relentless, daily brainwashing of the Primal Divine Cult.

The group sprinted at full speed. The cultists of the Primal Divine Cult were highly professional; despite their breakneck pace, they kept the Stone Seat perfectly stable, leaving Su Mu completely undisturbed upon it.

After a moment of thought, he asked, "Do you know the location of the nearest dream realm?"

"I do not know," Wan replied respectfully. "The Black Fog obscures the locations of dream realms. Sometimes they are entirely invisible to the naked eye, and we can only rely on luck. Please rest assured, however, Divine Envoy. A month ago, we came across a dream realm and stayed inside it for a time. The Primal Divine Cult possesses a Divine Art known as Trace to the Source. Once we shake off the offspring of the Snake God, I will cast the Divine Art to locate the dream realm we previously inhabited."

But Su Mu didn't ask. As a Divine Envoy descending from Heaven, it was acceptable for him to be ignorant of the state of Hell, but it would be far too suspicious if he didn't even know what a Divine Art was. Judging by the name alone, it sounded like a power bestowed by a deity.

"A dream realm you encountered a month ago is much too far away. When I first descended to this world, I came across a dream realm myself. Its location is very close. We'll go there first."

Wan was ecstatic to hear this. If there was a closer dream realm, why would anyone choose to travel further?

"However, since I am currently possessing a mortal vessel, it is inconvenient for me to cast certain Divine Arts for the time being. I will leave the tracking to you."

Wan harbored no doubts whatsoever; in fact, he found the arrangement entirely natural. The Divine Envoy was of such exalted status—how could he be troubled with something as trivial as navigation?

"Yes, Divine Envoy!"

About five minutes later, the hissing sounds behind them faded away completely. Wan stopped in his tracks, turned to Su Mu, and spoke respectfully. "Divine Envoy, please bestow a personal item upon us so we may cast Trace to the Source."

Su Mu nodded. He casually pulled out a white handkerchief and tossed it to Wan.

Wan hurriedly caught the handkerchief with both hands, cradling it as if it were a sacred relic, before handing it to one of the white-robed cultists.

The white-robed cultist accepted the handkerchief and, without a word, drew a dagger and slashed it viciously across his own wrist. Slash!

Blood instantly spurted from the wound. He sprinkled the blood in an arcane pattern, quickly drawing a crude blood array on the ground. He then placed the handkerchief in the center of the formation and began to chant in a twisted, babbling tongue that didn't sound remotely human.

"Praise the Primal Angel! Sacrifice!" The white-robed cultist suddenly let out a fanatical roar and plunged the dagger directly into his own heart. Thud...

He collapsed onto the array. His blood, as though seized by an invisible force, snaked wildly across the ground, stretching out toward the distant Black Fog and painting a crimson trail.

The white-robed cultist died with a look of absolute fanaticism on his face, as if he had just fulfilled some supreme, sacred calling.

Sacrifice again? Su Mu suddenly realized that their so-called Divine Arts were just sacrifices. They were using sacrifice to exchange for the power of the Primal Angel?

"Wonderful, Divine Envoy! The Primal Angel has given us guidance! Let us set off!" Wan cheered in ecstasy, not a shred of grief in his eyes for his fallen comrade.

Su Mu nodded. The group followed the bloody trail on the ground and resumed their journey.

Along the way, he asked casually, "Wan, to what level have you cultivated your Divine Arts?"

Wan, still sprinting, showed a glimmer of shame. "I have cultivated Divine Arts since I was a child, thirty years ago, but to this day I have only sacrificed a little over ten thousand people. I am no match for the bishops or the red-robed archbishops. Currently, I am only a high priest."

Over ten thousand people? So that's the origin of his name? Compared to this, the Primal Angel was no better than the Snake God—it might even be worse.

Throughout the journey, Su Mu continued to ask indirect questions, gathering intelligence on Divine Arts and Hell. Time flew by, and half an hour later, they found a massive, glowing bubble.

Peering through the bubble, they could vaguely make out a lush, dense forest, with scattered Headless Ones wandering through it.

"We found it!" Wan rejoiced. He took the lead, guiding the group straight into the bubble. In an instant, the space shifted. The oppressive Black Fog vanished, replaced by a blue sky, white clouds, and a primeval forest.

Su Mu had returned—only this time, he had brought an entourage of thralls back with him.

Upon entering the dream realm of the Headless Ones, everyone immediately fell silent, making absolutely no noise. Su Mu had instructed them beforehand, informing them about the Headless Ones.

Wan was rather familiar with the Headless Ones. He explained that these monsters were known as Ear Beasts, creatures that fed exclusively on sound. Their methods were exceedingly cruel; once they captured living prey, they wouldn't kill it immediately. Instead, they would imprison and ruthlessly torture their victims, constantly forcing them to scream in agony so they could devour even more sound.

Su Mu remained noncommittal. In his opinion, the Primal Divine Cult had no right to call Ear Beasts cruel. Truthfully, they were about the same.

Through his indirect questioning, he had gathered a general understanding of the situation. First, the Divine Arts of the Primal Divine Cult were entirely based on sacrifice. They believed the Law was the power of evil gods, and that the only righteous power was the divine strength obtained from the Primal Angel through sacrifice.

It was worth noting that the Primal Divine Cult believed all other gods—save for the Primal Angel—were evil gods.

In the entire subterranean world known as Hell, only the Middle Prison housed a massive human population, barely qualifying as humanity's domain. The other four prisons belonged to nightmares and evil gods. The power systems wielded by humanity in Hell were a chaotic mix: some walked the path of the Law like Transcendents, while many others cultivated Divine Arts. Humanity did not worship only a single god; the Primal Angel was merely one of them.

Furthermore, the cultivation methods for Divine Arts differed wildly depending on one's faith. For the Primal Angel, it involved the sacrifice of living creatures. The more living souls sacrificed, the more power was exchanged. This power was incredibly versatile, allowing for a vast array of applications—such as summoning the holy fire just now or casting Trace to the Source.

According to the fanatic Wan, the Primal Angel was omnipotent; through sacrifice, one could obtain absolutely anything.