Witch, Fireball and the Evil God of Steam-Chapter 958 - 209: The Wind Element Protects You

"This is..."

Mary rushed to Carlo's side immediately.

Pale skin, blood seeping from the eyes, ears, and mouth corners, clutching his chest tightly, accompanied by symptoms of magic power failure. All these signs reminded her of that terrifying plague that lasted for hundreds of years.

The intense pain made Carlo tremble all over, cold sweat streaming down, unable to utter a single complete sentence.

Without hesitation, Mary placed her palm on Carlo's chest, warm green fluorescence penetrating into his body. Despite Carlo's crimes, which according to the Church Court's law, deserved execution ten times over, Mary absolutely did not want Carlo to die of illness on the defendant's seat in this manner.

"So... it turns out...!"

Carlo's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, murmuring intermittently.

"Stay alive, you haven't faced judgment yet, don't think that dying like this will bring you release!"

Mary sternly commanded Carlo, but in reality, her palm on his chest was trembling uncontrollably, as she noticed Carlo's whites had turned red, and her emergency measures had not yielded any effectiveness.

The onset of the illness was far faster than the Scarlet Plague she remembered, Carlo's organs were decaying, a massive hemorrhage could claim his life at any moment, now the time from contraction to death had reduced from the original seven days to just a few minutes!

Mary quickly realized that this could very well be a new disease with symptoms similar to the Scarlet Plague, yet different.

But how could it be?

The Red King was long dead, even the wicked tyrant back then had to adopt many measures to spread the plague across the continent—conducting rituals, recruiting believers, cooking the cauldron of plague...

Instinct told Mary the person spreading the plague this time was far mightier than the Red King.

So powerful as if the Evil God Bajatos himself had descended a plague.

She couldn't help but look at the seven-eyed woman in the last row of seats.

"...Too late!"

Carlo's rough hands gripped Mary's wrist tightly, those blood-stained eyes staring at her intently, the intense suffocation making each word he spoke take enormous effort.

He still couldn't forgive Ethan, nor would he ever trust Ethan, but, ironically, that heretic had seen as far into the future as he did, even further, glimpsing those hidden corners he was unwilling to acknowledge.

More unbearable to Carlo than his impending physical collapse was the truth that Ethan was the correct one.

Ethan's question echoed in his mind.

—How do you ensure you haven't become another puppet, shifting from being the puppet of the Goddess of Life?

He couldn't answer, nor could he guarantee, only firmly believing he was on the right path.

Yet now, reality dealt him a merciless blow.

Under the witness of the Goddess of Life and numerous church leaders, the power he believed in devoured him. How ironic?

And with his death, all his discoveries and the secrets buried on this land would be concealed, and the most terrible aspect was that until this moment, Carlo still didn't know who the true enemy was, or where they resided.

He once firmly believed the Empire and the Ethan heralded by the "Imperial Truth" were his greatest obstacles, but now it seemed the true enemy had long been lurking by his side.

Every future he had glimpsed might have been meticulously planned by them.

Carlo knew such means all too well.

Even fragmenting the truth, just selectively presenting different parts, can lead people to entirely different conclusions.

He had ruled the Far West with such means over the past several years.

His heartbeat grew increasingly intense, Carlo could feel as if something was about to rip through his chest.

"The heart..."

He gritted his teeth, using his last ounce of strength to advise Mary, "The heart's section is at the eter... Eternal Perfor—"

In the next instant, Carlo's eyes focused, in a fleeting moment of strength, his hands full of power, enough to throw Mary's spiritual body away, when Mary, shocked and enraged, steadied herself and looked at Carlo again, the sight that greeted her was one she would never forget in her life.

Carlo's robe exploded open at the chest, something seemed to expand and contract under the skin, a massive claw made from twisted blood vessels and pallid bones forcibly tore open his chest, the claw's core tightly clutching his heart entwined with root-like flesh!

Immediately, the claw made a gripping motion, and the still-beating heart burst into a scattering blood mist.

More tendrils of flesh shattered Carlo's ribs and spine, amid teeth-grating sounds of bone fracturing and flesh tearing, a massive, grotesque mutation, before all eyes, ripped through the former Pope, descending upon the sacred Judicial Court.

The belated church leaders scattered in panic, not even having the courage to face this deformed creature.

All of this happened in an instant, Mary's mind was still somewhat dazed.

The blood mist splattered upon her face, dragging her back into the plague's inferno.

And at this moment, she confirmed her thoughts.

This was not the Scarlet Plague she was familiar with.

The spellcaster had transformed a transmissible and mutative disease into a spell capable of instantaneously twisting human bodies, a level even the Red King had never reached.

Mighty to the point of terror, and compared to her Third Epoch self, her magical power and soul resilience had significantly decreased over time.