MCDWTBS Chapter 83

Chapter 83: Chapter 83 – The New God

Chapter 83: Chapter 83 – The New God

Ilia held his breath, rapidly approaching the center of the Shrine of the God in the darkness.

Over a year ago, when Serra was still a disabled Chong pup, Ilia, as his Yaci younger brother, was caught up in the turmoil within the Imperial Palace. As a result, he became the nominal female slave of the Holy Son Francis, residing in the oppressive Heavenly Palace Star.

He joined the rebel army, constantly providing intelligence about the Heavenly Palace Star to them. This wasn’t just because he was Serra’s brother, but because after Ilia was almost violated by his own male father, he knew he had to make a change, that this world had to change.

He knew that if he did nothing, he would be like a doll wrapped in a plastic container, eventually running out of oxygen and dying stiffly.

So he joined the rebel army without hesitation, becoming an undercover agent—of course, he knew how dangerous this was, and therefore never confessed it to Serra. He knew that great changes had occurred in his brother, changes he was unwilling to investigate, but the brother who saved him from their male father would not allow him to do such a dangerous thing.

Ilia was not a daring Yaci. When his male father tortured him, he didn’t dare to resist in the slightest. His male parent, Sison, was one of the only two male attendants in the Duke’s Mansion, but Ilia had always been bullied by other female Chong and Yaci brothers since he was a child—because of his poor constitution. He could never become a military female Chong like his brothers Elen or Sison. He was born a weak vase, and all the Chong thought that one day he would become an insignificant toy of some noble male Chong.

He thought so himself, until his biological male father decided to tear off a piece of flesh from his tender body to taste first.

Perhaps Serra could provide him with a better, more stable environment, perhaps, in this regard he trusted his brother, but such stability was irrelevant to him. Since he was born, he seemed to have always been a toy, exchanged from the rule of one male Chong to the rule of another, his ownership being no different from the ownership of a piece of furniture.

He had had enough. Even if his brother Serra’s intentions were good, he had had enough.

Before the rebel army attacked Heavenly Palace Star, he received a secret mission from the rebel army’s wartime council: to seize the remains of the Mother Goddess. This mission bypassed his brother Serra and was issued to him personally by Krison, the current leader of the rebel army.

“This is not a mandatory order, Major Ilia. You have made enough contributions to the Dawn Organization. If you choose to withdraw, we will immediately arrange for an action team to take you to headquarters. Conversely, if you choose to accept this mission, His Highness Serra may not be pleased.”

Krison emphasized the last few words. Everyone knew that “not pleased” was a gross understatement. Serra outwardly didn’t object to his female Chong and Yaci relatives joining the rebel army, but in reality, he tried to arrange for the Duke’s Mansion relatives to be placed in the rear. As for Edwin, whom Serra cared about most, he was still serving in the Fourth Imperial Army.

This might be blatant favoritism, but no one was in a position to blame Serra. He himself had given his ancestral property, money, strength, and even his life for the rebel army, and no Chong race could demand more from him.

“I accept the mission, Leader.”

Ilia didn’t even hesitate, and agreed to this mission, which was likely a one-way trip.

Even though he had made ample preparations, he didn’t expect that before he could get close to the center of the shrine, a scarlet mental tendril suddenly attacked him. The hexagram pattern on the ground flashed, and a tall figure crawled in the center of the altar, wearing a golden-red mask on his face.

It was the Pope, who had disappeared for a long time!

Ilia’s heart skipped a beat. He reacted quickly, but couldn’t resist the male Chong’s mental tendrils. Just as he was about to be pierced by that mental tendril, a pure white mental tendril suddenly pushed away the Pope’s tendril.

Ilia turned his head sharply. In the darkness, the silver hair of the male Chong youth gleamed. He was wearing a simple, thin white robe, and his fair, almost transparent face had a pair of ice-blue, playful peach blossom eyes, slowly walking into the shrine.

Ilia’s heart was racing to the extreme, and a “Young Male Master” almost blurted out, but he quickly swallowed it back. He and the Holy Son didn’t actually have any substantial relationship, not only because the Holy Son was just a Chong pup using mental energy to disguise himself as a teenager, but also because Ilia was self-aware. His appearance was intentional from the start.

The Holy Son had never asked him, but he thought that with the Holy Son’s intelligence, he must know his purpose. Their relationship was a one-sided deception, and the last thing Ilia wanted to do was to drag the Holy Son into this at such a critical moment.

The Pope’s artifact restrained the Holy Son’s life… He couldn’t harm the Holy Son.

A trace of determination flashed across Ilia’s eyes. He didn’t waste any more time, aiming the deadly weapon he had secretly smuggled into Heavenly Palace Star at the Pope’s figure. Waves of energy rapidly struck the Pope, and at the same time, several scarlet mental tendrils emerged. Accompanied by a burst of eerie noise, the Pope’s tall figure knelt in the center of the hexagram, gradually losing all movement.

An unprecedented sense of terror suddenly gripped Ilia. He instinctively looked at the Holy Son beside him, but found that the Holy Son had uncontrollably returned to his original pup form. His messy silver hair stuck to his forehead, and a pair of ice-blue eyes widened, his bloodless lips trembling for a moment, and he said softly to Ilia:

“Leave here.”

Ilia didn’t move, his body still stiff. Although the Pope was motionless, Ilia knew that the plan had completely failed. He wanted to take the Holy Son and escape together, even if the hope was slim.

Seemingly seeing that he didn’t respond, the Holy Son suddenly raised his voice:

“Leave here, Ilia! Now!!!”

The Holy Son waved a pure white mental tendril, hitting Ilia’s stiff body, causing him to roll half a circle on the ground, his limbs gradually regaining consciousness. He opened his eyes in surprise, not yet knowing what had happened, but heard a gentle voice he had never heard before coming from inside the hall:

“Francis, my child, did you let the audacious traitor into the shrine?”

A scarlet iron chain appeared on the Holy Son’s tender neck. The pup couldn’t control himself and stretched out pure white mental tendrils and short hands to desperately grasp the iron chain, but the pure white mental tendrils were scorched by the scarlet flames as soon as they touched the iron chain. The silver-haired pup let out a painful whimper, he opened his mouth to pant, his ice-blue eyes filled with tears.

Ilia came back to his senses, crawling on the ground under the inexplicable pressure, but crawling towards the Chong pup on all fours. His eyes showed panic and grief for the first time. He knew that this mission was almost certain death, and he was prepared to die or be humiliated, but he couldn’t watch the Holy Son die.

He couldn’t watch Francis be implicated because of saving him.

Francis had saved him more than once. Ilia knew that his brother had an agreement with Francis. In the Church, Francis had been protecting him, and other Chong who had inexplicably become Francis’s female slaves. But even though Francis was nominally their male master, Francis had never used his status as a male master to threaten or force them.

Most of the time he was aloof and very mysterious. Ilia was a little afraid of him at first, because he himself harbored ulterior motives towards the Church, until one time when he was handing over a mission at an abandoned bell tower in the Church, he saw a pure white pup singing under the night sky.

In the panic of his identity and mission being exposed, Ilia widened his eyes, staring intently at the beautiful, unreal-looking male Chong pup. The moonlight made his silver hair pour down like the Milky Way. In the soft singing, Ilia experienced a trace of holiness favored by the gods in the pure white architecture of the Church for the first time.

Francis, who had returned to his pup form, turned his head and winked his left eye at him, revealing a clear smile, while raising a small hand and making a gesture of zipping his mouth.

That night, Ilia leaned against the gray stone pillars of the cloister as if possessed, listening to the male Chong pup singing under the moonlight. He didn’t understand the meaning of most of the words, and didn’t say much to the pup, but the peace and security he felt at that time was something he had never felt in his life.

He would always be grateful to Francis, even though he knew that there was no clean, pure, unexploitative relationship between them, and there was no future to speak of. But he couldn’t just watch Francis die because of him.

“I am an undercover agent sent by Dawn, code-named ‘Silver Vine.'”

Ilia suddenly spoke, his voice tense and hoarse. The moment he revealed his identity, he wasn’t prepared to leave alive, just wanting to clear Francis of any involvement.

He stared at the Pope’s stiffly kneeling figure with bloodshot eyes, clenching the weapon he had managed to smuggle into the Holy See, but soon, his face lost color because of shock, because a figure in front of the Pope slowly stood up.

That body was tall and slender, with graceful curves that the Chong race didn’t have. Slightly curled hair moved without wind, fluttering in the increasingly hot air, as black as night. An extremely beautiful face was gradually exposed in the light. Her eyelids were half-closed, looking as eerie as a marionette.

Behind her, the Pope’s body fell to the ground with a bang, but she laughed like silver bells:

“Stupid lowly female… Hahahaha… You think you’ll get what you want by fighting with the Holy Legion? Incredibly foolish fools. But it doesn’t matter, the Mother Goddess will end your filthy lives and insignificant pain. Works that shame the gods are better off returning to dust.”

Her voice became lower and lower, gradually becoming androgynous, sounding like the Pope’s unique aria overlapping. Ilia’s heart sank to the bottom. He struggled to stand up, but the Holy Son took the first step, his tiny pup body blocking in front of him.

“Ilia, leave quickly.”

He said, his voice a little vague, no longer as clear as when he sang in the bell tower, as if it had been blurred by blood. At the same time, a pure white tendril tore through the spatial barrier, heading down with the pouring firelight, rushing towards the tall woman standing there—the Mother Goddess occupied by the Pope’s body.

The pure white tendril was almost like moonlight pouring out in the dark night, extremely holy, powerful enough to threaten any Chong race, but it only made the woman show a strange laugh again. A jade-white, tender hand like a green onion held a bunch of pure white tendrils like picking flowers, easily tearing them to her lips. “Mother Goddess” slightly opened her lips, and snow-white teeth easily crushed the tendrils.

Ilia didn’t leave. He watched Francis’s young body tremble non-stop because of the shattering of the mental tendrils, trembling with fear at the power of the “Mother Goddess”—the Chong race had never seen such a situation before, where high-dimensional mental tendrils were physically torn apart—only the body of a god could do this.

Francis’s attack couldn’t get close to the “Mother Goddess” at all. He could feel one of his tendrils being easily chewed to pieces. The “Mother Goddess”‘s numb face with half-closed eyelids seemed to be mocking his overestimation of himself. He wasn’t seriously injured, but he clearly knew that the Pope inside the “Mother Goddess”‘s body was telling him in this way that he was in a hopeless situation.

Francis swallowed a mouthful of blood. Since transmigrating, he had been controlled by the Pope in the Holy Temple, almost never stepping out. He had thought that the Pope was using him as some kind of container, but now looking at the Pope occupying the remains of the Mother Goddess, he knew he was wrong.

He was the Pope’s dog, and the Pope’s ambition was far more than just occupying his body. What the Pope wanted was to become a god.

But gods are also lonely. Just as the Mother Goddess created the Chong race because of loneliness, the new god also needed toys and followers. Francis was the only Chong in the Pope’s eyes worthy of this role, and every sentence of “my child” that the Pope said to him also foreshadowed the high and mighty gaze of the gods.