I Am Extraordinary Alone-Chapter 643 - 641 Faith

The once great Sethiyan Federation, Georgetown.

The magnificent Congress Building had collapsed into several pieces on the pitted asphalt road, forming a veritable mountain.

The streets were littered with crippled tanks and burning human corpses.

Yaha rode a black ram, ambling down the charred street while his Dead Man Army was clearing the area nearby, occasional spurts of resistance could be heard, but they were quickly extinguished.

Following behind him were two squads of Dead Soldiers, and at his side, even more formless followers of the dead.

"Ah... Divine Power Tianyang, the New World has truly arrived, I was not mistaken, I chose the correct path, I am basking in the glory of god," Baphomet said contentedly, looking at the soldiers kneeling on the roadside, his tone carrying a mix of relief and scorn.

"Don’t get cocky, Baphomet. You’re still... under His scrutiny," Yaha said.

"Of course not, of course not, dear Lord Yaha, I am fully aware of what it means to fall under His wrath, and I will make sure not to make such mistakes again," Baphomet said.

"You’d better keep your word, as He isn’t patient these days," Yaha said.

"Certainly, I keep it in mind," Baphomet said with a smile.

As they passed a church, Yaha dismounted from the ram and saw about a dozen Dead Soldiers preparing to charge in at the entrance.

Yaha stepped forward to stop them, the soldiers kneeled on one knee before Yaha, who did not grant them blood. His legion had no Divine Descendants, only a portion of descendants and a Corpse Army converted during the wars in Chicken Snake Country and along the way, so the soldiers’ faces showed some signs of corpse spots.

Sacred songs echoed from within the church, Yaha touched the red wooden door, and black bacteria crept out slowly along the nail creases, corroding the copper-colored door handle to black.

With a clang, the door handle fell off, and Yaha pushed open the door, only to see the church packed to the brim, some standing in the aisles holding holy books, led by a black-robed priest, chanting passages of Rada Gan’s savior.

The intrusion of Yaha did not interrupt the chanting of the sacred song; they sang with fervent devotion, as if the gods of the stories would descend to save them. The black-robed priest, upon seeing Yaha, felt fear and his voice quavered, yet he persisted in leading the chant.

Yaha entered the church, and the people in the middle aisle all stepped aside, at this moment he maintained the form of a Knight, having shed any prior disguises, making his non-human visage instantly recognizable.

Yaha reached the priest, placed a forefinger to his lips, and made a "shushing" gesture, then shook his head.

The priest held out for a moment but then stopped leading the chant, watching Yaha nervously, daring not to make a sound. The group singing was interrupted, and the people sat or stood in stunned silence, quietly looking toward Yaha.

"Priest," Yaha said.

"You... you can speak human?" the priest said.

"I’m no different from you, why do you ask?" Yaha’s face broke into a vivid smile.

"You are a demon," the priest said, trembling.

Meanwhile, a whisper spread through the congregation. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

"Monster!"

"What blasphemy... What evil..."

"Demons... There actually are demons in this world!"

Yaha turned his head and made a "shush" gesture.

Then, he sat at the edge of the priest’s pulpit. Compared to the other knights, Yaha’s figure was as delicate and petite as a young girl’s, but to humans, he was still a colossal entity.

Yaha said, "How does that little book you’re holding describe demons? Can you tell me?"

"Just like you..." the priest said.

"This book had been selling all over the world long before I was born. They couldn’t possibly have depicted something they hadn’t seen," Yaha said.

"Perhaps you differ in appearance from the demons they describe in their books, but your actions will surely be punished by God!" the priest said.

"Divine punishment," mused Yaha, tilting his head slightly, the corners of his mouth turning up.

He stood up and looked at everyone seated, saying, "I, too, have seen demons; they wear the guise of men. If I hadn’t happened to be one of the victims, it really would have been hard to tell them apart."

"Those demons live a life of carefree joy; I’ve never seen any god come to punish them," Yaha said.

"Your words blaspheme the gods! Such profound disrespect for Rada Gan..." the priest said.

"Rada Gan... I know him. He never crossed that pool..." Yaha said, looking at the priest and then continued, "Sometimes I’m puzzled by your kind. I understand the importance of faith, but what I can’t comprehend is why you ignore the gods before your eyes while displaying such fervent devotion to the gods of your fantasies?"

"Divine Power Tianyang is not a god; he absolutely isn’t..." the priest said.

The faithful seated among them murmured their agreement.

"Your god is on paper, whereas He is in the sky. According to the holy scriptures, you must seek your god within the lines, letting your imagination guide you, while He, you simply have to look up to see," Yaha said.

"The universe wasn’t created by Wei Tianyang! He’s nothing but a drugged-up madman! We will never worship a Pseudo-God!" the priest said.

Yaha sneered disdainfully, "I see, you’re not truly devoted."

He grabbed the priest, picking him up like a small chick, and lifted him into the air.

Yaha laughed and said, "You just need a false idol to justify the disgusting things you’ve done. You wear a black robe, sit in the confessional, and become God’s messenger. Those fools confess to you, and you forgive them on behalf of a non-existent god. That is the hypocrisy of the old humans."

Then, he added, "You fear the true god, a god that brings real punishment! He is in the heavens, actually able to physically eradicate all evil. You fear Him; you fear your own sins being accounted for! You are all heretics! Apostates!"

Tens of thousands of diseases poured from Yaha’s pale hand into the priest’s body. The priest screamed in agony, sores appearing on his face, the whites of his eyes turning yellow, saliva uncontrollably dribbling from his mouth, and his twitching fingers slowly drooping. His hair fell out in clumps, and in an instant, he aged decades.

Yaha tossed him onto the pulpit; by then, the priest was deeply ill, unable to move, like an old man in the final stages of cancer. So many diseases had rushed into his body and destroyed all his organs in a matter of seconds; now, the priest was not far from death.

Witnessing this scene, the congregation fled the church en masse. Yaha drew in a deep breath and with a gentle exhale, a rank and vile wind carrying the virus spread forth.

When the faithful poured out of the church, they, too, collapsed onto the ground, much like the priest, becoming people on the brink of death.