92: Chapter 92 Imprisonment in the Tongue-Pulling Hell

Screams erupted one after another, but it was already too late.

White Impermanence's figure weaved through the crowd of believers. Every time he raised his hand, a soul was slapped out of its body and absorbed by the funeral staff. His movements were elegant and composed, like a silent dance.

Black Impermanence was not as elegant as White Impermanence.

He simply walked silently among the believers, the soul-locking chain flying in his hands. Every time a chain entangled a believer, their soul would be forcibly ripped from their body and dragged into the depths of the chain.

Those entangled by the soul-locking chain experienced extreme agony. The moment their souls were torn out, they felt a soul-rending pain that made them let out shrill screams, causing the surrounding believers' hearts to nearly burst with terror.

"Evil spirits! The evil spirits are here!"

"Run! Run!"

The believers began to break down.

They scrambled up from the ground, threw away the incense in their hands, and fled frantically in all directions. But the Black and White Impermanence were too fast; White Impermanence could cover hundreds of feet in a single step, and Black Impermanence's soul-locking chain could extend for miles.

No one could escape.

White Impermanence's laughter echoed in the void. It was as gentle as a spring breeze, yet it made every believer who heard it feel their hair stand on end.

"Don't run... I'm here to help you..."

"I'm taking you to a better place..."

"A place where there is no pain, no sorrow, only eternal peace..."

His voice had a bizarre hypnotic effect, causing the fleeing believers' footsteps to slow and their will to weaken, until they eventually stopped, turned around, and looked at him with glazed eyes.

The funeral staff fell.

Souls were drawn away.

Black Impermanence's soul-locking chain swept through the crowd. With every sweep, dozens of believers were ensnared and their souls ripped out. His face remained ferocious, but in his eyes, there was an indescribable mercy.

"The virtuous shall be reborn in paradise."

"The wicked shall suffer in hell."

"Whether you are good or evil, the Underworld shall judge for itself."

His voice was deep and resonant, like a temple bell, causing the fear in the hearts of the ensnared believers to dissipate, replaced by a bizarre sense of calm.

They no longer struggled or screamed, but simply waited quietly for their souls to be taken away.

Because they knew that struggling was useless.

Before the Impermanence, all resistance was futile.

...

The battlefield of Ox-Head and Horse-Face was at the edge of the Incense Divine Kingdom.

The God of Plague stood on a withered wasteland. Dark green mist spread from around him; wherever it passed, the earth cracked, the air spoiled, and even the void itself seemed to rot. His aura was the most bizarre among the four deities—it lacked the raw power of the God of War, the vitality of the God of Agriculture, and the vastness of the God of Water; there was only endless decay and death.

But his strength was second only to the God of War.

Rank 6 High-stage.

The God of Plague's sickly green eyes stared at the two figures emerging from the grayish-white mist.

The one on the left stood two and a half meters tall, with a massive ox head and two black horns curving toward the sky, their tips glinting with a cold light. His eyes were blood-red like brass bells, reflecting the phantom image of the Tongue-Pulling Hell.

The one on the right was two meters tall, with a long, narrow horse face and a bizarre expression, his lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. His eyes were as black as ink, and deep within his pupils, one could vaguely see a cycle of countless tongues being pulled out, regrowing, and being pulled out again.

Ox-Head and Horse-Face.

Rank 6.

The God of Plague looked at them and let out a raspy laugh.

"Ox-Head? Horse-Face? Enforcers of the Underworld?" His voice sounded like rusting iron plates rubbing together. "You think you can capture me?"

He raised his hand, and the dark green mist condensed into a giant palm that struck toward Ox-Head and Horse-Face. That palm contained plague, disease, and decay; it could kill any living being instantly upon contact.

Ox-Head did not dodge.

He simply raised his Steel Fork and met the attack head-on.

[Brute Force Collision] activated.

Ox-Head's figure was like a fired cannonball, slamming into the dark green palm. The moment the Steel Fork collided with the palm, a piercing sound of metal grinding erupted. The dark green mist was torn apart by the Steel Fork, and the plague and disease were swallowed by Yin Qi. Under Ox-Head's impact, the giant palm crumbled into pieces.

The God of Plague's pupils constricted slightly.

"Brute force... pure brute force..." he muttered. "My plague is useless against you?"

Ox-Head didn't answer, but continued to charge forward. His speed wasn't fast, but with every step he took, the earth trembled. That tremor wasn't physical, but spiritual. It was the power of the Tongue-Pulling Hell, the echo of the wailing of countless sinful souls deep within the earth.

The God of Plague felt an unprecedented pressure.

It wasn't from Ox-Head's strength, but from the phantom image behind him. The Tongue-Pulling Hell. That place of punishment hidden deep underground was now looming behind Ox-Head. Countless distorted faces on the gates struggled in pain and roared in despair. Those faces looked at the God of Plague as if looking at a companion who was about to join them.

The God of Plague took a step back.

He didn't want to admit it, but he was indeed afraid. Not of Ox-Head and Horse-Face, but of that hell. That place specifically for punishing sins. And he, the God of Plague, the God of Punishment of the Incense Divine Kingdom, was himself the embodiment of sin.

Horse-Face noticed the God of Plague's retreat.

A bizarre smile played across his lips.

"Scared?" he said softly, his voice sharp as the wind. "Scared of the Tongue-Pulling Hell? Scared of those sinful souls whose tongues have been ripped out?"

He raised his hand, and chains coiled in his palm.

[Eye of Hell: Tongue-Pulling] activated.

Horse-Face's eyes instantly connected with the Tongue-Pulling Hell. Deep within his pupils, images of countless tongues being pulled out surfaced—images so bloody and cruel they would strike fear into anyone who saw them.

The God of Plague saw those eyes.

His body suddenly stiffened.

In Horse-Face's eyes, a massive number appeared over the God of Plague.

Sin Value: 9,847.

That was a terrifyingly high number. It meant the God of Plague carried nearly ten thousand sins, that he had killed countless beings with his plagues in the Incense Divine Kingdom, and that he was the most welcome guest for the Tongue-Pulling Hell.

Horse-Face's smile grew even more brilliant.

"A Sin Value of nine thousand eight hundred and forty-seven... what a large number..." His voice was like a demon's whisper. "The Tongue-Pulling Hell will like you very much..."

He moved.

Horse-Face's speed was extreme, like a bolt of black lightning, appearing before the God of Plague in an instant. A chain flew from his palm, coiling toward the God of Plague's neck.

The God of Plague retreated sharply while waving his hand to release a thick cloud of dark green mist. The toxicity of that mist was ten times stronger than before, enough to kill a giant whale instantly.

But Horse-Face's figure weaved through the mist like a fish in water. The mist had no effect on him because his body was already connected to the Tongue-Pulling Hell; before the power of hell, plague and disease were like ants before a dragon.

The chain wrapped around the God of Plague's arm.

The God of Plague let out a roar, struggling desperately. His strength far exceeded Horse-Face's; as a Rank 6 High-stage against a Rank 6 Initial-stage, he had an overwhelming advantage in power. The chain tightened around his arm, letting out a piercing grinding sound, looking as if it were about to be snapped.

But Ox-Head arrived.

[Steel Fork Suppression] activated.

The Steel Fork in Ox-Head's hand, carrying the entire weight of the Tongue-Pulling Hell, slammed down onto the God of Plague's shoulder.

The power of that strike was not brute force.

It was the weight of hell.

It was the resentment of countless sinful souls.

It was the divine pressure of the tongue-pulling punishment.

Under that strike, the God of Plague's knees buckled. His body was pressed down until he knelt on the ground. His aura plummeted from Rank 6 High-stage to Rank 6 Mid-stage, and then down to Rank 6 Initial-stage.

Ox-Head's blood-red eyes stared at him, his voice heavy as thunder:

"Sinful Soul, God of Plague, for slaughtering living beings with plague, your sins are grave. By the judgment of the Underworld, you are cast into the Tongue-Pulling Hell to suffer punishment for a thousand years."

Horse-Face's chain flew out again, this time coiling around the God of Plague's neck.

[Escort Impermanence] activated.

Ox-Head and Horse-Face exerted their power simultaneously, lifting the God of Plague's body from the ground until he was suspended in mid-air. Beneath him, the void split open, and a bottomless abyss appeared under his feet.

Within the abyss, countless Ghost Soldiers were busy. Holding iron pincers, they escorted one soul after another and forcibly pulled out their tongues. Those ripped-out tongues fell to the ground and transformed into new Ghost Soldiers, who then continued to pull out the tongues of the next souls.

The Tongue-Pulling Hell.

Looking at that abyss, the fear in the God of Plague's eyes finally exploded.

"No! No! I am a god! I am the God of Plague of the Incense Divine Kingdom! You can't... you can't..."

His voice stopped abruptly.

Because Ox-Head and Horse-Face had already dragged him into the abyss.

The abyss closed.

The God of Plague was escorted into the Tongue-Pulling Hell.