Witch, Fireball and the Evil God of Steam-Chapter 690 - 81: No One Can Go Home

For the people of the village, today is a good day.

Their leader, Van Fleet, brought back some news. After enduring numerous hardships, he finally found a way to leave this godforsaken place. It wouldn't take long before they could go home.

Upon hearing this news, everyone instinctively stopped what they were doing. They couldn't believe it wasn't an April Fool's joke. For those who had accidentally ended up here earlier, they had long lost hope of returning.

It was a day worth celebrating.

Van Fleet called on everyone to hold a grand celebration. They no longer needed to be frugal and could bring out all the food to enjoy their last lunch at this dreaded place to their heart's content.

This was what Ave and Valerie saw when they returned to the village. The people were immersed in the joy of the celebration, each holding a bowl of stew with exotic flavors, passionately discussing their plans for when they returned home.

This left Ave and Valerie stunned. They had initially thought that Van Fleet would desperately rally all the villagers, accuse them of being the "Red Eyes'" minions, and have all the Demon Hunters take up their crossbows at the village entrance to kill them. Also with them were sacrifices Van Fleet had betrayed to the "Red Eyes," prepared to expose Van Fleet in public.

The two saw Van Fleet's figure in the village. He clearly noticed the two who had returned.

He acted as if nothing had happened, raising his voice to introduce the two returnees to all the villagers, "Our great heroes are back; they are the ones who can take you home!"

His face beamed with a smile, looking every bit the competent leader.

Could it be that he had finally had a change of heart?

Did Ethan sparing his life in the castle awaken his inner human conscience?

The villagers who had followed the two back were also stunned, their rational minds telling them that they should rush up and punch Van Fleet hard.

"No, this is not right."

Looking at the villagers' smiling faces, Ave and Valerie realized the problem at the same time—everyone they saw held a bowl filled with aromatic stew. The pot of stew was placed in the village center, surrounded by villagers.

They didn't even glance at Ave and Valerie, their eyes entranced by the stew as if under a spell.

Van Fleet came over with a bowl of stew, "Heroes, welcome to the celebration."

"What did you put in the pot?"

An ominous feeling surged in Ave's heart. In fact, no one in the village cared about their conversation. Even returning home seemed to have lost its appeal. They only wanted to keep eating, and the primitive hunger enveloped everyone. Instead of feeling full, they grew even hungrier.

"Many here haven't had good food in a long time, so I added a special ingredient to the pot for them."

Not far away, there was unrest around the pot.

The smiles on people's faces had vanished at some point, replaced by greed and anger from being jostled by others. It started with pushing and shoving. When one villager's bowl was knocked to the ground, and he pounced, screaming at the one who did it, pinning him down and biting his neck, the situation spiraled out of control.

The smell of blood spread through the village, becoming a catalyst.

Ave saw signs of mutation appearing on some people, their eyes starting to fill with blood. This wasn't the familiar ghoul plague. It spread too quickly. According to the book "Know 100 Dark Creatures," even directly consuming human flesh and blood wouldn't lead to such rapid mutation. That usually took 3-5 days.

"You're not the only ones exploring."

Van Fleet's smile twisted as he slowly took out a black flower from his inner pocket, "I don't know what it's called, but just one small petal is enough to instantly transform the consumer. Those 'Red Eyes' in the castle use it for transformation."

But not everyone can complete the transformation smoothly.

In fact, only a very few can endure the transformation process. After that, they would be accepted by the Blackrave Clan, while the failures would become one of those low-level ghouls.

"Out of 20 people, only one made it through."

Van Fleet completely dropped the facade, not caring if the rest of the village heard this conversation, because soon most of the village would become dark creatures that could no longer understand human language, and those lucky enough to survive wouldn't be able to return home.

Ave immediately guessed the identity of the survivor.

In the Blackrave Clan, there was an old man who didn't fit in with Morganna's children, more like a servant, rarely communicating with them, locking himself in his room, unknown what he was tinkering with.

The purpose of this experiment was singular.

Van Fleet was no longer content with being a shepherd. He wanted to complete the transformation, become a "Red Eyes," and join the Blackrave Clan. He might have learned of the convenient facilities in Mirror Dark Furnace City, where the living conditions were much better than this ruinous village.

But the one-in-twenty odds daunted him.

Van Fleet glared fiercely at the two, "I built this place; I provided them with a safe haven, and you want to take them home? It's all your fault, for that boring truth, just like that old thing."

The same change was happening to Van Fleet.

This was the last thing he wanted to do: transform everyone, including himself.

"Don't you want to know what happened to him here? All I can say is that old thing came at an inopportune time, right when it was time to deliver."

Van Fleet grew increasingly excited, feeling the transformation approaching. His blood was ignited as if his vision distorted with a red haze, the figures of Ave and Valerie in the fog appeared in multiple overlapping images.

Will he become one of the twenty percent?

That question is no longer important.

What matters is that he has determined the village's fate, for this is the place he created, and everyone here should be within his grasp.

The only result for a group of outsiders who emerged from nowhere attempting to meddle here is that they can only bring back a horde of cannibalistic monsters. Then, they will be identified by the Church as believers of the Evil God and will be tied to the pyre, drenched in oil, and burned into charred corpses under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

That is their future.

"That old thing is very sensitive to dates; he actually inferred the delivery date and even planned to tell the others about it."

The doubling of Van Fleet's vision grew increasingly severe, and as he narrated, it seemed to take him back to that night when he saw Fisher sneak away from the village, entering the mist as if he intended to alert the patrol teams that typically explored the outskirts of the village.

"So I followed him. He is a third-tier believer, yet I killed him with a single arrow through his throat."

He laughed madly; it became his final means of keeping his consciousness from being consumed, "I watched him fall on the grass; his vitality was tenacious; his mouth opened and closed, refusing to die for a long time. So I dragged him into the territory of the ghouls and watched him be engulfed by them."

Van Fleet could no longer maintain his standing posture; the soup bowl in his hand fell to the ground. He bent down, sprawled on the ground like a ghoul, using all his remaining strength to lift his head and look at the two, "Where is Ethan? Why didn't he come with you? You can tell him that no one will go back with him!"

"You madman!"

The villagers returning to the village with the two could no longer bear it. The two at the forefront rushed forward and kicked Van Fleet to the ground. When they attempted to further attack Van Fleet, Ave stopped them.

"Stay away from him, and don't get scratched or bitten."

Here, all sorts of faiths were erased by the mist, while the strength and agility of ghouls far surpassed humans.

More and more villagers crawled on the ground, showing the same traits as the ghouls.

Van Fleet simply lay flat on the village's soil, revealing a victor's smile.

These people were doomed.

This ghoul plague was special; August's method had no effect.

A strong sense of exhaustion surged; in a daze, Van Fleet heard the sound of footsteps approaching from the distance, even though his vision was completely overtaken by red. He knew Ethan had come.

It's a pity he couldn't see the other's expression clearly at this moment. He thought Ethan must be regretting it, regretting not killing him in the castle.

Van Fleet disliked Ethan from the beginning.

Because he saw the young man's intent in his eyes—trying to find a way to save everyone in the village and dare to venture into the Blackrave Clan's territory alone.

Back then, he couldn't accomplish these things; when the "red-eyed" ones found him, he almost immediately agreed to their proposal and once felt it was like a pie falling from the sky. The number of sacrifices wasn't many, entirely within the village's tolerance.

"Get ready; it's time to go home."

Van Fleet also disliked Ethan's tone; he couldn't understand why Ethan could maintain a calm demeanor after witnessing the village's changes, as if everything was under control.

Don't you understand?

August's methods can't save these people, not even the Goddess of Life!

In a daze, Van Fleet felt a door appear before him, as if someone forcibly tore open a gap in space.

Then, he heard people screaming.

They returned to Dark Furnace City, where the familiar scent of burning iron filled the air. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Then, his consciousness was swept into an endless whirlpool, where Van Fleet saw a ground paved with flesh and waterfalls of blood, beneath which a woman stood.

A woman with seven eyes; her hem was alive, and tentacle-like protuberances extended toward him.

Van Fleet struggled to rise from the ground, heedlessly rushing toward that bizarre woman.

This was his flock; no one else could decide their fate!

But before that, an arrow pierced through his head.

Before his consciousness plunged into darkness, his vision cleared for a moment.

In reality, no one was paying attention to them.

No one stopped at him for an extra second.

The shooter was one of the villagers offered as a sacrifice; he was holding a crossbow.

He had killed a ghoul that intended to attack, and that was all.