Witch, Fireball and the Evil God of Steam-Chapter 966 - 211: Wish_3

Even the most notoriously useless among the Old Gods, Sincaro, is merely lost in searching for the "Ancestors" that haunt Him, while the followers of the Lofic Consortium are solely fixated on making money.

As for Argos, this fellow even missed the pre-First Epoch war and has no idea of what happened.

Yet under such circumstances, "Doomsday" became a consensus among the True Gods.

Logically, they are the beings closest to the Old Gods, with most having had direct, even intimate exchanges with the Old Gods before the "Betrayal."

"Is their prophecy about 'Doomsday' really meant to guard against the Old Gods?"

"You mean…"

Mary's pupils contracted as she instantly grasped Ethan's intention.

Compared to Bazatous, who is entirely indifferent to the fate of human civilization, clearly those parts once removed by the True Gods hold deeper emotions towards them and even humanity.

Unlike the Old Gods, they were also born here, yet they were exiled by "themselves."

"Eternal Theater."

Mary suddenly spoke, "This is where Carlo told me before he died, and he specifically mentioned the 'heart,' which might be the most crucial component for Bazarian. If we leave tonight, we might reach Oasis City in three days, but before we depart…"

She looked back at the ruined Praise Sanctuary.

Carlo's torn body and the flesh of the monster were piled together.

This shattered state post-parasite cannot be restored through Bazatous, as essentially, another life form broke out of Carlo's chest.

"You all pack up your luggage first and wait for me at the city gate. I have some…aftermath to deal with."

............

Meanwhile, Oasis City, Lower City.

"Please, save our child!"

In a shabby house, a couple knelt at the feet of a veiled woman.

The bare walls best depict this family, a common sight in Oasis City's Lower City. When their child fell ill in bed, all they could do was watch the child's life slip away.

The only thing in the house that didn't match the decrepit surroundings was an exquisite sculpture of the Goddess of Life on the table, spotless and seemingly receiving the utmost care and protection.

When the child fell ill, the statue became their only hope, their sole spiritual support.

The poor in the Lower City can't afford the high cost of medical care and can only hope for a miracle to occur.

At the moment, the boy lying on the hard bed was pale, eyes tightly shut, body trembling, his symptoms persisting for days. The couple watched his condition worsen daily, powerlessness engulfing them.

Yet today, their prayers were unexpectedly answered.

"We are willing to do anything for you, even give up our souls!"

The couple begged the veiled woman desperately, treating her as their last lifeline.

"Souls?"

The woman gently placed her hand on the boy's arm, his furrowed brow immediately relaxed.

"I don't need your souls."

Her gentle eyes glanced at the statue on the table, "You are devout believers. Doesn't your Goddess ever respond to your prayers?"

"The Goddess, She…"

"You wish for him to be healthy, to eat and run…"

As the scarlet energy continued to pour in, the boy's skin gradually regained its color.

The couple was dumbfounded, witnessing the arrival of a miracle.

"I've heard your wishes."

When the couple returned to their senses, the veiled woman had disappeared, leaving only her gentle voice still resonating in the room.

They watched as their child slowly opened his eyes, trembling with excitement.

Until the boy opened his mouth, revealing a set of razor-sharp, demonic teeth.

"Hungry."

His voice sounded like a beastly growl, "I'm hungry, I need food!"