Unharmed.

Even he himself thought that in the chaos, someone had unknowingly pushed him.

After getting up, he patted the dust off his body, glared around, discerning each face, whether innocent or mocking, and muttered something under his breath.

He didn't dare to take it further.

This place was already in front of the Sacred Place, who would dare to throw a punch and shatter the solemnity?

Being punished was a minor issue, but losing the qualification to serve as a sustainer would be a major loss!

Thus, everyone, harboring the same unrealistic dreams, calculated in their minds the rewards from Heaven and the satisfaction of their boundless desires, eagerly lining up beside the leader, uncontrollably joyful as they walked into the darkness of the bank.

It was like livestock walking in line toward a processing assembly line.

Just as he was entering, he involuntarily scratched his back, as if it itched a bit.

As for when a handprint appeared on his filthy, stinking clothes...

No one cared.

"Damn it, it's been so long, and there's still no sign!" In the bank's basement, the furious Priest cursed, "Does nobody care at all? What are you playing dead for, speak up!"

Around the blood-soaked altar, the sweat-drenched maintainers bowed their heads, not daring to make a sound.

Only the most favored subordinate by his side dared to muster the courage to clarify, "Forgive me, Priest, we have all followed the old rules. Logically, by this time, the Lord should have already descended, but... but..."

But who would have known, that after several batches of offerings were sent up.

Incense was burned, and heads were bowed, but why was the highly efficacious superior being silent today?!

Could it be at this critical moment, suddenly it decided to jack up its price by leaving us hanging?

"It must be the testing us!" his lips trembled, "Once this new batch of offerings is sent up, the Holy King will surely be pleased, and then he will favor us greatly."

The Priest looked at him expressionlessly, his eyes full of blood vessels.

At this point, that was the only explanation.

No matter how earnestly they invited, called, or even sent batch after batch of offerings, the once highly responsive Holy King now remained utterly silent...

The Priest suddenly questioned, "Is there something you've done to break the rules, to anger the Lord?!"

"It must be Lian Cheng that bastard's fault!"

In desperation, the panic-stricken subordinate didn't hesitate to shift the blame to the dead man: "Ever since some time ago, the Holy King's responses have become less frequent, even not responding at all. It must be that damn fellow who somehow offended the Holy King!"

"At this point, is saying all this useful?"

The Priest said coldly, "Increase the scale, offer more sacrifices, call all the believers here—if the Holy King truly isn't willing to appear, we might have to force Him to come..."

"But, but..."

The subordinate was dazed, "If the Holy King becomes angry."

"What use then are the offerings?" The Priest eyed him coldly, "What are you pitying? Your few believers? If this fails, do you realize what your fate will be?

A top-quality lamb like you is not easy to find!"

Beneath the sinister words, the subordinate shivered, bowed his head, and dared not hesitate any longer.

He drove batch after batch of believers onto the altar.

Whether crying for their fathers, urgently struggling, or hesitantly fearing...regardless of the demeanor, once sent onto the large altar, they would fall into delirium and Illusion, ecstatically annihilating into ash, consumed by something unseen, leaving only thick blood slowly dripping from the "plate," overflowing...

In a daze, one of the sustainers beside the altar suddenly shivered for some reason.

He heard, like an illusion... a laughter?

On the originally empty wall, suddenly a broken door materialized and opened.

From behind the battered curtain of that doorway, darkness surged.

A ghastly pale smiling face slowly leaned out.

Looking at him.

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