The black runes emitted a nauseating stench. Just one whiff of this stench and one wouldn't be able to eat for the rest of the meal. If one's endurance and adaptability were slightly weaker, they wouldn't be able to eat for the next few days either.
After being hit by this thing, Ovela, who had been protected by magic and whose physical condition had been raised to a ridiculous level, suddenly froze, and then let out a crazed roar.
This roar was heart-wrenching, as if someone had used a saw to cut her in half. But this wasn't enough to describe her pain, because this pain didn't come from the flesh, but from the mind, from her soul.
Her connection with God had been forcefully cut off.
Beastmen were a very strange race. In this race, be it men or women, young or old, they were all devout believers, without exception. Even newborn babies were the same.
This was because when they were created, their souls had already been tampered with. No matter how their bloodline was passed down from generation to generation, or how their descendants reproduced, their souls already had a place to belong, just like a product that had been labeled. Someone had once done an experiment, isolating a group of newborn beastman babies from the rest of the beastman society, so that they could not come into contact with any mystical knowledge. But as their intelligence grew, they naturally awakened their faith in the beastman gods.
Of course, this situation wasn't absolute. During the growth of beastmen, there were times when they would break free of the "label" on their souls due to various reasons. Under such circumstances, their appearance would remain the same, and their faith wouldn't change, but their entire temperament would be completely different, becoming distinguishable at a glance.
Many mixed-blood beastmen were the same. Their appearance wasn't much different from pure-blooded beastmen. Many of them also believed in the beastman gods, but anyone with a bit of experience would be able to clearly distinguish them from beastmen.
This was a very strange feeling. It was like walking into a supermarket, where all kinds of products were clearly priced, and many of them were even labeled with the place of origin and manufacturer, as well as many other information — this was the case with the beastman souls. And those "three no products" without a "price" were commonly known as "half-beastmen."
The difference between beastmen and half-beastmen wasn't in bloodline or appearance, but in the "label" on the soul.
Half-beastmen were discriminated against in Beastman society. They often had to make greater contributions, obtain greater achievements, possess greater martial prowess, and accumulate more wealth in order to receive the same treatment as ordinary Beastmen. As for the truly important positions, such as high priests, they would always be Orcs, never Half-Orcs.
As a high priestess, Ovela was undoubtedly an Orc. However, when she was hit by a special magic that used demonic soul extract as material, the chaotic power of the demonic nature seemed to turn into a wall, blocking the path of faith between her and the god she believed in, the Iron Hoof King, temporarily cutting off this previously smooth path.
For ordinary priests and priests, this was nothing. It was nothing more than a temporary inability to cast spells. But for an Orc, the cut off of the path of faith meant that the "label" on her soul had temporarily disappeared.
At this moment, she felt that her soul was floating and had no one to rely on. It was as if she was a dead leaf that had been crushed by a tornado before she could land on the ground. It was as if she was standing naked in lava and was instantly burned into ashes. It was as if she had fallen into an extremely cold deep sea and turned into countless pieces of ice.
No! It was countless times more terrifying than those! It was simply indescribable!
If she was an ordinary Orc, she might be able to resist this terrifying feeling with her will alone. But Ovela was a high priestess, and her connection with the god was far closer than that of an ordinary Orc. After being cut off by the Rune of Blasphemy, the pain was even more severe.
Ovela howled in agony, completely losing the will to fight.
Her pain didn't last long. Josh leaped forward, raised his harpoon, and stabbed it straight into her chest, straight for her heart.
In just an instant, the high priestess died. Her soul, which was supposed to go to the Kingdom of the Centaur God, was still affected by the Rune of Blasphemy and floated in the air, moaning in pain.
Although this situation wouldn't last long, as the Rune of Blasphemy would lose its effect after a few seconds, Josh's eyes lit up, and he keenly grasped this opportunity.
"Imprison her soul!"
Frost was a little puzzled. He didn't understand why Josh said this, but he remembered what his sister had told him before they set off. "Josh is very cunning and has a lot of experience in taking risks. When you're not sure what to do, just do what he says." So he immediately took out a sapphire and cast a spell to capture Ovela's soul, who was still moaning in pain, and imprison it inside.
"What do you want this for?" After doing all this, he finally had time to ask. "This sapphire isn't cheap. If you put a soul in it, it'll be useless, and you won't be able to sell it for a good price."
Josh almost choked on his words. He smiled bitterly and said, "Don't ask me for money. I can't afford this sapphire!"
"Forget it. I'll reimburse you with public funds." Frost quickly found a way to make up for his loss. "This is a war expense. It should be used with public funds!"
After solving this important problem, he suddenly felt much more relaxed. Then he asked Josh why he wanted to imprison Ovela's soul.
Only then did Josh seize the opportunity to explain the situation to him.
In general, the Church of Void Mask's talent pool was extremely weak, and there were almost no masters they could send out. And for a master like Ovela, even if only her soul was left, it would still be of great value. His Majesty, the Void Mask, had the incredible ability to create a body out of thin air. Using this ability, he could totally create a new body for Ovela, which would only be stronger than the previous one.
"But there's no way to solve the problem of her faith, right?"
"I believe His Majesty will also have a way to solve the problem of faith," Josh said with a smile. "Although there's no evidence, I always feel that our Majesty is actually very powerful, almost omnipotent. The reason why he can't do a lot of things is that he hasn't tried to do them seriously. "
Frost thought for a while and nodded seriously.
"Anyway, the wasted sapphire will be reimbursed with public funds. There's no harm in trying."
With public funds to back them up, the two of them, who had completely different priorities, easily reached a consensus. They picked up Ovela's body, cleaned up the traces of the battlefield, and then flew back again.
"Blasphemy runes are really good stuff!" When they turned back into the "traveling merchant uncle and nephew," Josh could not help but sigh. "A powerful high priest is finished just like that! It's as easy as killing a chicken! "
"The cost of each scroll is 400 gold coins, and the cost of each spell is 2,000 gold coins. And that's not including the value of the essence of the devil's soul — that can't be bought at all." Frost raised his eyebrows. "If the essence of the devil's soul is counted as 5,000 gold coins, it will add up to 7,400 gold coins … and that's just the cost."
"Haha …" Josh could not help but laugh bitterly. "With this money, it'll be more convenient to find a few killers for help …"
In any case, their assassination plan had gotten off to a good start, even though it was a little like throwing money at people.
In the west of the Wilderness Empire, in the "Western Wilderness" area near the great desert, Steele was also achieving her goal in her own way.
The strong bearman roared exhaustedly. His huge eyes were wide open, and his nostrils made a sound as if he was about to stop breathing. His muscles were all tight, and beads of sweat rolled down his granite-like muscles, completely soaking the bed under him.
After about a second or two, his body suddenly became completely limp, and he panted tiredly, as if he had just fought a fierce battle.
"Not bad, not bad!" Steele smiled charmingly, leaning on his body, "But, are you satisfied with just this?"
"I … I can still …"
"Well, of course you can …"
After a moment, the sound of bodies colliding and wet splashing rang again. The bearman's low roar and Steele's charming laughter were also mixed in.
The next morning, the servants were shocked to find that the number one orc master in the Western Wilderness, the fourth big figure in the main priest group of the Church of the Orc Master God "Sky Devourer Canine", Belen Sila, the legendary master "Roaring Iron Arm", died in his own bed.
There were no wounds on his body, nor were there any signs of being poisoned or cursed. The pastors and priests of the church carefully examined his body, and finally came to a very embarrassing conclusion.
The cause of this master's death was overindulgence.
His life force was not sucked by the succubus, nor was his essence sucked by the Night Witch. His body was still as good as before, and his muscles were still strong, and his powerful strength was still filling his body.
It was really because he had overindulged in lust that he had seriously overdrawn himself. In the end, he had used up all his strength and died of exhaustion.
This way of dying was so humiliating that he became the laughingstock of the entire Western Wilderness.
One of the few big figures with the highest status under the command of the Lord of Orcs, a top master who could fight and kill a giant dragon with his bare hands, had died of exhaustion because he couldn't control his lower body!
There were also a lot of people who were curious … What kind of woman could make this peerless expert, who had lived for nearly five hundred years and had seen many things, so excited that she even forgot about the condition of her body and was "diligent" to the point of death?
"How great would it be if I could spend a night with that woman!" In a small tavern, a certain young adventurer sighed.
His older companion laughed and scolded him, "Don't talk nonsense! Lady Sila died of exhaustion, and you want to spend one night with that small body of yours? You'd be dead in the middle of the night! "
"Alas! If I could die in the belly of a woman like that, I wouldn't have lived my life in vain! "
"That's all you've got!"
"Don't you want to?"
"I have a wife and children, why would I look for another woman?"
"Hey … Last time, who mysteriously led me to the Void Mask amusement park, and said that the Church of the God of Joy had built a high-end brothel there, and there was some 'big sword' project, and I couldn't miss it …"
"Don't, don't, don't! Don't say that! If your sister-in-law hears it, I'll be dead! "
"Then, next time, you'll treat me?"
"… I'm out of money."
"Didn't you earn a lot of money from the last mission?"
"Don't mention it …"
Listening to the conversation over there, a little pink pig, who had used a spell to hide itself, curled up in a corner and was half-awake, smiled, feeling proud of itself.
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