Mainland Martial Arts

Chapter 318 The Demon Cult's Promise

As the true energy gathered, a massive barrier emitting a strange light formed in the blink of an eye. This barrier was like a huge black eggshell, with a faint light flowing on its surface, tightly enveloping several of the West Sea City Lord's men.

The city lord's men, trapped within the barrier, were stunned for a moment, then expressions of utter terror crossed their faces. Their eyes were filled with despair and rage, as if they had witnessed the most horrific sight in the world. "You demons, this will not end well!" Liu Meng roared, his voice echoing within the barrier with endless resentment. They began to attack the barrier frantically, fists whistling, palms surging, and they unleashed their strongest martial arts, attempting to break free from this sudden restraint. However, each attack only created black ripples on the barrier, like a stone dropped into a calm lake. Beyond briefly disturbing the black sheen, it caused no damage at all.

The black-robed men stared intently at their prey within the barrier, their lips curled slightly in a sinister smile. Hidden within the shadows of their robes, that smile seemed especially distorted, like a flower of evil blossoming in the darkness. They slowly approached the barrier, pressing their faces against the surface radiating true energy. Their eyes gleamed with excitement, a blazing light like a hungry wolf spotting a fat lamb. Then, they suddenly took a deep breath, like a group of thirsty travelers in the desert who suddenly discovered a source of water, desperate and reckless.

As the black-robed figure inhaled, the air within the barrier began to fluctuate violently, as if an invisible force were stirring everything. The city lord's men instantly levitated, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, their faces contorted in agony. Their cultivation, like morning mist dissipating under the scorching sun, was gradually drained from their bodies. After leaving their bodies, this cultivation power transformed into a multicolored light, slowly spreading across the barrier. These lights intertwined and merged across the barrier, forming strange and complex patterns that shimmered with a multicolored yet sinister light, as if painted by a demon.

Obviously, this kind of evil art of absorbing cultivation is a relatively lengthy process, but if more people participate, the process will be greatly accelerated. The barrier released by these black-robed individuals is like a giant container, gathering the cultivation of those within it and absorbing it bit by bit. At this moment, with the combined efforts of so many black-robed individuals, the process has become quite rapid.

After a while, horrifying changes occurred. The people inside the barrier began to wither at a speed visible to the naked eye. Their skin gradually became shriveled, like dehydrated bark, rough and cracked. Muscles atrophied rapidly, and their once plump bodies became skinny and bony, as if the life force had been drained out. The brilliance in their eyes gradually disappeared, leaving only empty and lifeless eyeballs, as if their souls had been sucked out. Their once strong and powerful bodies, like flowers that had been drained of water, quickly withered. Until finally, they turned into horrible skeletons, their empty eye sockets seeming to still retain the fear and despair before death. The skeletons' bones collided with each other inside the barrier, making a "cracking" sound, like the music of death.

Satisfied, the black-robed men finally lowered their hands. As they did so, the black barrier gradually dissipated. The skulls, now without support, fell to the ground like broken puppets, shattering into pieces and raising a cloud of dust. The dust drifted in the breeze, like the final sighs of the dead.

An old man leaning on a cane stood quietly by, watching the brutal scene with an expressionless face. His eyes were deep and cold, like a bottomless pool of ice, as if this was just a trivial performance, and the loss of those lives was of no value to him. His gaze shifted from the skulls and slowly turned to the civilians kneeling on the ground. These civilians were already terrified, their faces pale, their bodies trembling like fallen leaves in the cold wind. They watched the unfolding scene with horror, not daring to breathe. Some even lost control of their bladders, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of urine.

The old man cleared his throat and spoke in a deep, alluring voice, "I will lead you into a prosperous age. As long as you obey me, you will be able to share this prosperity with me." His voice echoed through the square. Though calm, it carried an undeniable authority, resonating like thunder in the ears of the crowd. His eyes gleamed with a complex glint, a mixture of a thirst for power and disdain for these common people, as if they were mere pawns in his pursuit of his goals.

However, the civilians didn't respond. They simply lowered their heads and remained silent. Their hearts were filled with fear and doubt, unsure what to do. These black-robed men had just demonstrated such brutality; how could they dare to trust the words of this old man? But to save their own lives, they dared not resist rashly and could only choose to remain silent. Everyone prayed silently in their hearts, hoping that this nightmare would end quickly.

The old man seemed unfazed by the silence of the common people. He continued, "We come from the Holy Church, sent by Heaven to save this world. We will bring prosperity to all, so that there will no longer be distinctions between rich and poor, noble and humble. In our prosperous age, everyone will be able to live a happy and fulfilling life." His eyes gleamed with a fanatical glint, as if he were truly a savior. He waved his cane, drawing mysterious patterns in the air, as if demonstrating the magical power of the Holy Church to the common people.

When some civilians heard the words, "There is no distinction between rich and poor, noble and humble," a flicker of longing flashed in their eyes, but it was quickly replaced by fear. They secretly raised their heads, glanced at the old man, and quickly lowered their heads again. They wondered if these black-robed men were good or evil, and whether this so-called prosperity was just a beautiful lie. So, they remained silent, and the entire square fell into a dead silence, with only the sound of a gentle breeze.

Seeing no reaction from the civilians, the old man's mouth twitched slightly, but he suppressed his displeasure and continued, "If no one speaks, it means they agree." He then stood there quietly, waiting for their response. However, several breaths passed, and the civilians remained as quiet as ever, not a single one uttering a word. Their bodies continued to tremble, their eyes filled with fear and confusion.