LRAB Page 304
Page 304
Everyone was chanting the gospel of the King in Yellow. Perhaps the continued burning of the holy sword could end the King in Yellow, but at this moment, Ian knew he didn't have time for that protracted battle.
"As expected, the two divine artifacts that have been delivered to me will surely have a purpose." Seeing countless people suffering, he hurriedly took out the God-Slaying Spear Colt.
to be frank.
He truly hadn't predicted falling out of heaven. Without hesitation, Ian pulled out the Colt Godslayer Gun, raised the muzzle, and aimed it at the exposed essence on the Yellow King's forehead.
He pulled the trigger.
"boom--!"
A crisp gunshot pierced the heavens and earth, as if time itself had stood still. In that instant, Ian seemed to see the trajectory of the bullet as it cut through the air.
The bullet flew out of the gun barrel.
Without any flashy special effects, dazzling lights, or deafening explosions, the bullet simply pierced through the King in Yellow, its trajectory guided by the ironclad rules of the game.
This divine weapon, capable of killing everything, first imbued the King in Yellow with the concept of death, and then, using this concept as a weakness, ruthlessly pierced through His very essence.
Suddenly, the Yellow King's body shuddered violently. Its floating eyes snapped shut, its tentacles ceased writhing, and its entire being seemed to have been struck by some invisible law. For the first time, it displayed an expression of "pain," though that face did not belong to any known form or the emotional system of any living being.
The colors on the King in Yellow began to fade, like a mural being washed away by rain, the colors peeling off layer by layer, and the black mist that once surrounded him gradually dissipated.
death.
It has already arrived.
The indescribable evil god's entire body seemed to have turned into a statue.
It is constantly cracking.
"I will come back." This was the first time He had spoken to Ian, without any emotional fluctuation, His voice seemed to whisper directly into the depths of Ian's mind.
“No, you can’t come back.” Ian pointed Colt at the Necronomicon, which had fallen from heaven with him and the King in Yellow. It was now lying quietly on the ground not far away.
This is the real source.
If God gave Ian two bullets, it meant he had to fire two shots—Ian understood this, and once again, without hesitation, he aimed at the Necronomicon and pulled the trigger.
The gunshot shattered the night like a thunderbolt of divine punishment. The second bullet whistled through the air, striking precisely the cult classic known as the "Necronomicon."
There was no explosion.
The Necronomicon began to crack.
The cover, which had originally gleamed with an eerie luster, began to fade rapidly, as if it had been directly disintegrated by some invisible force. As the spine cracked, eerie black shadows poured out from the cracks.
That was no ordinary book; it was a forbidden vessel. At first, only a few thin, dark shadows seeped out from the cracks in the spine, but in the blink of an eye, they swelled into a tidal wave that blotted out the sky.
The shadows were distorted.
They twisted like mist, and wailed like ghosts, the sighs of something indescribable. An unspeakable darkness swirled and roared in the air, blotting out the sun.
In the distance, on the stained glass windows of the church, the faces of saints are slowly melting. Even the last vestiges of divine power are no longer able to protect those hiding amidst this chaotic dance of demons.
"Oh! No!!"
"Someone save us! I don't want to become a monster!"
"We're doomed! We're doomed!"
On the ceiling mural, between the fingers of God and Adam, twisted tendrils have quietly appeared. Every visitor who looks up notices this detail.
The church is being eroded.
The entire city is being eroded.
Each shadow stretched out countless withered, claw-like arms, reaching out in all directions. The air was polluted, the light was swallowed, and the entire sky above the Vatican City was instantly plunged into darkness.
It felt like the end of the world had come.
"So, the King in Yellow was just the first individual to invade and resurrect, and the Necronomicon contains so many evil Cthulhu creatures?" Ian stood still and looked up at the sky.
He could sense the presence of those shadowy figures—each one a remnant of a Cthulhu god. Some resembled octopuses, some were as large as mountains, and some were formless and shapeless.
All the shadows merely split and replicated, eroding the boundaries of reality like a virus. Those dark figures blotted out the sky, swirling in the air and emitting roars that didn't belong to any language system. A black sedan, fleeing, was struck by one of the dark figures, instantly tumbling and crashing into a nearby stone pillar.
The sound of metal deforming was mixed with screams.
The silver cross hanging on the rearview mirror had been corroded into a shape that kept blinking, from which the "huge" pope and a group of clergymen emerged.
"The Holy Sword was used at this moment, wasn't it?" Ian pulled the burning Holy Sword from the remains of the King in Yellow, whose final form crumbled into ashes in an instant.
He suddenly raised the holy sword and swung it with all his might.
Under the astonished gazes of the Pope and the bishops, the boy's sword pointed, and the blazing white holy flames poured down like a celestial river, transforming into a torrent of light that reached the heavens and the earth.
The holy flames swept out with overwhelming force, and wherever they passed, the dark figures were evaporated before they could even scream. The tainted souls were like snow meeting boiling water in the pure holy flames.
It melted away instantly.
Ashes are falling.
[Abnormal data analysis complete. New general data—All Things in the Universe—has been added to your [Mimicry Armor].] The system suddenly and unexpectedly provided this notification at this moment.
“No, what about my new profession?” Ian walked to the remains of the Necronomicon, which had now transformed back into a black notebook.
He held it in his hand but received no feedback from the system.
"The outer universe, the outer universe hidden inside." Ian shook the Death Note, but nothing came out. He angrily threw the Death Note on the ground and stomped on it a few times.
There were still some remaining dark shadows wriggling and struggling on the ground around them.
Ian swung the holy sword once more.
A blinding white light washed over every corner of the square like a tidal wave. It shone on every shocked face, on those pupils that had been eroded by pollution.
These people, corrupted by the outer universe, were covered in wisps of black mist that emitted silent shrieks in the flames before turning to ashes.
A priest raised his hand, trembling.
He watched as the eerie runes that had spread across his skin melted away like snow. His eyes cleared from their dazed state, but his lips trembled, unable to utter a single word.
"Oh, what happened?"
"Oh my god! We're saved!"
"Who is that person? A superhero?"
"I feel like he's an angel descended to earth!"
Everyone regained their clarity under the holy flame—the entire sky was illuminated, as if dawn had arrived early, and Ian stood in the most dazzling position of the light.
"You should be one of us!"
The remaining shadows behind him attempted to retaliate.
However, it spontaneously combusted within a radius of about 100 meters.
They turned into countless sparks scattered across the sky.
People stood frozen in place, their gazes unanimously fixed on the center of the square, where a boy stood beside a broken obelisk, the dazzling boy resembling a judge from mythology.
The burning sword in his hand was gradually going out.
However, this does not diminish the surge of emotions people feel when they look at him.
“Very good, all merit, full of merit, all the merit of Lord Ian.” Ian looked around, nodded in satisfaction, and then walked toward the Pope who had fallen to the ground.
The Pope's aged face was etched with shock as he looked up at the approaching youth, his fingers unconsciously tightening around his robes. In that instant, the Pope felt as if he had rediscovered his faith.
Are you an angel?
The Pope asked in an extremely devout voice, as if he had just seen the seraphim described in ancient books descending, sacred and unbearable to look at.
"Yes, you've actually missed offering to one angel, which is me. But I don't mind. Just offer to me more often from now on." Ian hadn't awakened his new class.
Therefore, he wanted to salvage his profits.
The boy's voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"I don't know who you are..." The Pope's throat bobbed, he didn't even dare to tremble, he just stared at the mimicry fleshy wings that suddenly appeared behind Ian.
They are wings made of real, pure shredded meat.
Sen Luo Wanxiang.
It can not only simulate the forms of Cthulhu gods.
"Of course I am the one who died and ascended to heaven, and then transformed into the Goddess of the Sky..." Ian was about to announce his name when a familiar female voice suddenly rang out behind him.
"It seems you've experienced another chapter in your story."
It's Miss Death, whom we haven't seen in a long time.
She had indeed arrived long ago.
Ian turned his head and saw Miss Death leaning against the edge of the fountain, the hem of her black dress swaying gently in the wind, holding the Death Note full of footprints in her hand.
"It's pure garbage. I tried writing 'a pervert who likes little boys' on it, but the Pope and those bishops are still alive. It's pure garbage Death Note."
Ian pointed to the Pope and the group of clergy in front of him.
"??????"
Not only did Miss Death's expression freeze on her face, but even the trembling Pope and cardinals shrank back in fear upon hearing these words.
They didn't know who Ian was talking to, but they knew they had once again narrowly escaped death. The clergy huddled together, trembling.
Ian ignored them and stared at the notebook in Miss Death's hand.
"There don't seem to be any extraterrestrial fragments inside?"
He asked about the thing that had been bothering him.
In this regard.
Miss Death nodded and explained, "This is just a vehicle for smuggling. In fact, I think the homeland of these filthy things has not truly been destroyed."
"If I'm not mistaken, for some reason, these evil beings would rather abandon their original power than leave their universe, which is not yet destroyed."
Her slender fingers gently caressed the cover of "Death Note".
"Coming to visit without bringing a gift is so rude." Ian was still lamenting that he had only gained the ability to mimic, which was completely useless. His evil god face was much scarier than the forms of the Cthulhu gods.
"Can't we just launch a counterattack against their universe?" The determined little boy gripped the holy sword, full of confidence. He felt he still had a chance to devour the fragments of the Cthulhu universe.
Upon hearing this, Miss Death closed the book and sighed softly.