“Holy crap!”
Meng Yi groggily woke up, propped himself up with his right hand, and blankly surveyed his surroundings, then he shuddered, his mind instantly clearing.
He had fallen asleep while staying up late reading a novel; where had he been brought to in the middle of the night?
Under the flickering firelight, white-robed figures lay all around him, their eyes tightly shut, each clutching a short knife.
Moreover, there was a very strong smell of blood.
Meng Yi’s face instantly turned pale; surely they weren't all dead?
He scrambled to his feet, then realized he could move flexibly, so it seemed he hadn't been injured.
He looked around, a trace of fear mixed with his confusion…
Strange patterns, bizarre clothing, a silent night, and dead bodies everywhere!
What kind of cult ritual site was this?
Hiss… my head hurts so much…
He suddenly bent over, clutching his forehead, and the strange sensation on his hand and forehead startled him:
I'm holding a knife too?
Before he could process it, the intense headache made his eyes roll back, and he fell to the ground with a thud, promptly passing out…
In Meng Yi’s mind, it was as if a group of people were holding a large meeting, incredibly noisy, accompanied by a swollen, painful sensation.
…He began to see different scenery… thick red mist…
He instantly appeared on a pure white high platform, surrounded by hundreds of indistinct figures, prostrating themselves before him.
But… they couldn't be clearly distinguished.
His head was so swollen and painful!
A clear female voice rang out, temporarily overriding the chaotic noise:
“Oh, God! You have finally answered us!”
Then a buzzing sound once again filled Meng Yi’s mind.
What the heck? As a new-age youth raised under the red flag, Meng Yi had always been uninterested in such mystical things.
…God?
Hiss ~ his head was still a mess!
Hundreds of voices echoed in his mind, clamoring like a swarm of flies, irritating him, and… his head really hurt.
“Silence!!!”
A majestic voice rang out.
His mind instantly quieted down.
Meng Yi took a deep breath; without these Noise, his headache greatly diminished.
Only then did he have the energy to ponder his situation.
As this thought arose, his perspective suddenly shifted to a high vantage point, and he began to overlook this Red Mist Space.
He sat on a white stone chair carved with intricate patterns, positioned on a nine-story high platform.
The high platform was circular, entirely made of stone, and pure white.
And those hundreds of figures were prostrating themselves before the stone chair on the high platform; not a single one stepped onto it.
Meng Yi was stunned for a few breaths, then he forced himself to calm down.
First, look at himself.
As his thought moved, his perspective instantly pulled to the front of the stone chair.
It was him!
His appearance was his own, an ordinary handsomeness, only his clothing had changed; that white robe was so out of place…
Then, his gaze swept past the nine-story high platform and quickly moved to below the platform.
Below the high platform, a group of people had their foreheads touching the ground, prostrating motionless, dressed in white robes and barefoot, just like him.
Meng Yi looked closely and came to a conclusion.
This group of people was frozen.
It seemed that this Red Mist Space, after he switched to “God’s perspective,” had collectively fallen into stagnation.
Only… why was the right hand of the woman at the very front a mechanical construct? And rusty!
He quickly scanned the others, not finding similar situations, though some people had various old scars on their bodies, disfiguring them…
Incomprehensible… I'll ignore her for now.
The current situation is… this group of people is prostrating before him! And… calling him God?
Meng Yi felt strange in his heart: “Am I that… God?”
Aside from the area near the high platform, further out was a thick, viscous red mist, like a tangible substance, that his consciousness could not penetrate.
He was eager to clarify the facts.
Since this group of people prostrated before him and called him God, they should answer any questions he had.
He could ask this group of people.
How to go back?
Meng Yi’s consciousness circled in the air a few times, then directly rushed towards himself on the stone chair.
Indeed, his perspective switched back, and the headache followed.
He raised his hand and gently rubbed his forehead, sighing softly. If it was always like this, he would suffer greatly.
Hearing this sigh, the people below the high platform buried their heads even lower. They dared not think too much, only prostrated themselves with greater piety.
Meng Yi’s gaze fell to below the high platform. Considering his current identity as a deity, he tried to make his tone as casual as possible:
“Where is this?”
God is speaking!
Everyone’s gaze subtly converged on the beautiful woman leading the group.
She was the organizer, planner, and leader of the ritual, so of course, she should answer.
The woman, hearing the deity’s question, trembled uncontrollably as she lay prostrate on the ground.
After the ritual ended, everyone appeared here.
Enveloped by the red mist, they could only see a blurry figure seated at the top of the high platform, from which an inexplicable pressure emanated.
They felt as small as ants standing before a giant.
This situation… what else could explain it besides a God? That was a ritual to communicate with a God!
Everyone, in their panic, prostrated themselves, using every superlative to praise the deity before them.
So… this was, of course, God’s Kingdom!
But she absolutely couldn't answer that way. The deity’s question had a deeper meaning…
And she couldn't take her time thinking; she mustn't delay God and had to answer quickly.
The woman’s throat moved, and she tried to calm her trembling, answering in as loud a voice as possible:
“This is the Place of Salvation!”
Meng Yi frowned; that answer was no answer at all.
“Heh…”
An inexpressible chuckle sounded.
A cloud of gloom enveloped everyone’s hearts.
The woman closed her eyes, awaiting the final judgment.
The ritual randomly communicated with a God, but it didn't say it would sacrifice their souls to God’s Kingdom.
Normally, after a successful ritual, the God would bestow protection, and the Believers would need to revere the God, please Him, and offer tribute to Him in the days to come!
But the current situation was beyond everyone’s expectations.
They had never heard of a ritual pulling people into God’s Kingdom.
Meng Yi’s gaze swept downwards. The red mist obscured his vision, making it hard to see clearly, but he could roughly determine the direction. The one speaking should be the woman with the mechanical right hand.
The God on the high platform fell into contemplation.
Besides this strange space, when he woke up just now, he saw a bizarre scene resembling a cult ritual.
Did that magic array bring him here?
Was this still Earth?
Did an otherworldly summoning of a God go awry and bring him here?
He couldn't ask questions like “What’s going on?”, “Why am I a God?”, “Who are you?” and so on.
He could still play the part of a “God” now, but if he asked such identity-unfitting questions, he wasn't sure what he would face.
He decided to follow their words and ask, his gaze becoming solemn: “What is Salvation?”
The woman only felt an indescribable pressure emanating from the high platform. She calmed herself and answered earnestly:
“To enter God’s Kingdom and be spared from facing all the suffering of the world, that is naturally the Place of Salvation.”
Meng Yi tightened his grip on the stone chair’s armrest. He hated charlatans most in his life; they couldn't even speak clearly.
He looked up at his surroundings. This vast, white area under the red mist, did it deserve to be called God’s Kingdom? A Place of Salvation?
It should at least have towering, majestic mountains, grand and magnificent temples, and a few solemn and mysterious angels behind him, with faint, echoing hymns like hallelujah…
Otherwise, it was too shabby!
As this thought emerged, the surrounding red mist surged.
Instantly, everything he had imagined appeared in the empty red mist.
Everyone immediately found themselves at the peak of mountains, the God seated high in a grand temple, the ground they prostrated on transformed into a floor carved with mysterious patterns, and faint sounds of hymns echoed in their ears.
Everyone looked up in astonishment. Two angels stood Standing behind the God, their twelve pairs of intricate wings faintly visible through the red mist…
Everyone could not hide their excitement and simultaneously exclaimed:
“Praise God!”
“Praise the Place of Salvation!”
