Chapter 381: God of Clamor and Filth

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All the memories had finally finished playing, and the final scene slowly faded away.

Like a long movie coming to an end, the fragmented light reflecting in the eyes of the two spectators gradually dimmed.

Celia blinked, and once she was sure no new images would appear, she took a deep breath.

Her eyes were red. In her daze, it felt as though she had just lived through an entire lifetime with him.

They say memories are life's most precious treasure.

She was deeply satisfied with these memories, with this story.

Celia turned her head to look at Ansu, who was staring at her intently.

“I've done everything I promised you.”

Ansu slowly closed his eyes. “Alright, if you still want to kill me, go ahead!”

“If you still insist on destroying everything... then I won't stop you anymore.”

The air fell silent for a long time.

In the end, only a soft, faint chuckle reached his ears.

“Stop pretending.”

Ansu peeked with one eye and saw Celia leaning in very close, looking at him teasingly.

Those dark red eyes, once filled with murderous intent and hostility, had long since grown calm.

He quietly breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.

“Ansu,” Celia said, looking at him earnestly. “I agree with you. The story isn't over yet.”

“Really?” A look of pleasant surprise lit up Ansu's eyes.

Celia nodded, then sighed softly, a trace of lingering fear in her voice.

“You're too foolish, Ansu.”

“I was already in that state just now, and your life was entirely at my mercy. Even so, you didn't run away. You insisted on bringing me to see the Filthy Heart... and all of this was just to save me.”

“What if I had completely lost control back then and killed you?”

Ansu twitched the corner of his mouth. “I really had no other options...”

Celia looked at him, her heart overflowing with regret as she muttered softly over and over, “Why are you so foolish... Why are you so foolish...”

Ansu looked at her reddened eyes and could only give a wry smile.

...

The power of the Filthy Heart slowly receded, and the illusion completely dissipated like a retreating tide.

Their vision blurred, and they returned to the southern wasteland, which was shrouded in a thin, scarlet mist.

Not far away, the floating heart's beating gradually slowed down, as if it were deliberately trying to lower its presence.

“Thanks!” Ansu praised with a smile.

This thing had truly done a magnificent job. It made all the effort they had spent to find it completely worthwhile.

The Filthy Heart still didn't dare make any unnecessary noise.

Ansu checked the time: October 19th, 23:30.

The time in the simulation was almost up.

The nerves that had been tense throughout the journey finally relaxed. He looked up, smiled at Celia, and was just about to say, “Let's get ready to go back—”

When a sudden, sharp pain tore through his chest and abdomen.

Ansu doubled over violently and spat out a large mouthful of black blood. It splashed across Celia's clothes, a shocking, vivid stain.

“Ansu!!”

Celia's pupils shrank. She hurriedly reached out to support his swaying body.

Ansu lost all strength in his body, nearly collapsing onto the ground.

“What's wrong with you? Why did you suddenly cough up blood? Did my Black Flame hurt you just now? Ansu! How are you?”

Ansu slumped on the ground, clutching his chest. His head spun, his breathing grew difficult, and a sense of panic and palpitation he had never felt before washed over him.

He shook his head with difficulty. “No, it's definitely not... Your Black Flame never even touched me...”

The two of them exchanged a look, both thinking of the same thing at once.

Ansu rolled up his sleeve—hideous, dark red lines had already crawled all over his arm, squirming and winding like living vines.

Celia's heart clenched. She reached out and pulled open his collar. His chest was also covered in the same patterns, densely embedded beneath his skin, as if they would tear through his flesh and burst open in the next second.

“God of Clamor and Filth!”

Celia raised her head in rage and shrieked at the blood-red sky, “False god! Why didn't you target me? What's so impressive about going after him!”

But before long, a sharp pain also flared up in her own chest, followed by an inexplicable palpitation.

Surprised, Celia looked down at her wrist. The eye-like mark was slightly warm, and the blood vessels beneath her skin were beginning to bulge hideously.

But her symptoms were far milder than Ansu's, nowhere near that terrifying state of being on the verge of shattering.

Ansu forced his groggy consciousness to think quickly.

What was going on? In the previous simulations, there had clearly been nothing wrong with him...

That familiar sense of being watched enveloped them once more.

Cold, sticky, and of an indescribable malice...

It was locking onto the two of them with a death grip.

And in the next instant, something even more surprising to both of them occurred.

The Goddess of Holy Light had actually taken action to help?

A majestic power of holy light cascaded from the heavens, parting the blood-red sky and transforming into a dazzling pillar of light that landed squarely on Ansu.

This sacred power, which Celia had rejected and loathed the most in the past, now eased her racing heart slightly.

“Ansu! It's the Goddess! Thank goodness... You're saved!”

Under the holy light, Ansu's fading vision cleared up slightly for a brief moment.

Celia did not dare touch him recklessly again. “Don't worry, She won't let Her Chosen One die at the hands of a false god! You'll be fine!”

“Yeah...” Ansu could only manage a strained smile in response.

Time ticked by. Even as he remained bathed in the continuous holy light, Ansu's complexion did not improve in the slightest.

He at first had felt a trace of relief, thinking that his theoretical 'boss' was finally doing something helpful.

But as countless cold divine decrees continuously flooded into his mind, he looked up at Celia, his eyes sinking little by little.

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