Huh, My Portrait?

The arrival of the Evil God did not diminish its oppressive power.

That wasn't his intention to intimidate anyone.

Rather, his very existence is an unbearable burden for mortals.

The Gods pressure spread silently.

Like an invisible mountain slowly descending from the sky, pressing down on every inch of this desolate little planet.

The air grew heavy.

Each breath they took felt like swallowing scalding hot sand.

The black-robed believers surrounding the Altar were the first to be affected.

The body, lying prone on the ground, was pressed even lower, and the spine made a creaking sound as it struggled under the weight.

All the ships in the Federation fleet lost power at the same instant.

The Antigravity Engine emitted a piercing alarm before shutting down completely.

The ship began to fall uncontrollably towards the ground.

One after another, they crashed heavily onto the planet's surface, stirring up clouds of dust.

And those who are watching the center of the Altar.

Whether they were Federation soldiers or black-robed believers, everyone felt a sharp pain in their eyes, as if someone had pierced their pupils with a red-hot needle.

An instinctive fear compelled them to close their eyes.

Do not look directly at God without permission.

Wuma Xiu placed his hand on the Evil God's shoulder.

That hand was fair and slender, and when it landed on the dark Robe, it looked like a white flower petal falling on the surface of a deep pool.

"Ugh, toned down your divine power, don't scare them."

Wuma Xiu gently patted his shoulder twice with his palm.

Upon hearing this, the Evil God almost instinctively did as instructed. He withdrew the divine power emanating from his body layer by layer back into his own.

That feeling wasn't actually very comfortable for him.

It's like folding up wings that have already spread out and stuffing them into an overly cramped cage. It's like making someone hold their breath, tuck in their limbs, and not let them touch anything around them.

The feeling of being restrained made the Evil God uncomfortable.

But he did it willingly.

Only when even the last wisp of dark Divine Power on the Altar had completely vanished did the Evil God bow his head.

Those unfathomable eyes gazed silently at Wuma Xiu.

"What do you need me to do this time?" the Evil God asked.

He seemed to have thought of something.

The darkness in his eyes deepened slightly, but his voice remained calm and composed.

There was just a hint of concern at the end of the sentence.

"Are those Evil Gods bothering you again? This time, I'll beat them to a pulp for you."

The Evil God's dark Robes fluttered even without wind.

The oppressive aura that had just subsided was beginning to show signs of rising again.

"They're all useless trash anyway. Don't worry, I won't leave a single one alive, and I promise they won't bother you again."

Unexpectedly, the other party was going to kill the god for him. Wuma Xiu pointed to the surroundings, his fingertips slowly tracing over the heads of the black-robed believers prostrate on the ground below the Altar, then passing over 02 who was stunned on the Officiant's Platform, and finally pausing on 01.

"No, it's your followers. They're looking for you."

The Evil God didn't even glance in the direction Wuma Xiu was pointing.

Those deep-colored eyes remained fixed on the person in front of them.

It was as if nothing on the entire planet except for Wuma Xiu was worth his utmost attention.

"I have no followers."

Wuma Xiu glanced around again.

Beneath the Altar, the black-robed believers remained kneeling on the ground.

Their bodies were trembling violently.

The faces beneath the hoods were filled with ecstasy and madness.

If there are no believers, then who are these people?

Is it a self-organized, grassroots enthusiast association?

Wuma Xiu this.

Suddenly

"God... my My God has descended!"

A Fanatic suddenly burst out from the crowd.

His black robe slipped off as he ran.

His face was thin and twisted, his eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils burned with an almost manic flame.

He staggered down the steps of the Altar.

He lay prostrate on the rough rocks.

His forehead slammed heavily against the ground, making a dull thud.

One, two, three...

They were completely unaware that they had been injured and their skin was torn open.

Then, he looked up.

Blood streamed down his nose from his forehead, yet his eyes gleamed with extreme piety and greed.

He stretched out his hands toward the Evil God, his voice hoarse and fanatical:

"My God! Please grant me your supreme power! From now on, I will believe in you more devoutly than anyone else! I am willing to give everything for you!"

Upon hearing these fanatical words, the Evil God turned away, but the Fanatic did not receive Gods mercy.

He awaited destruction.

"I dislike greedy people, I dislike people with blood on their hands, and I dislike people who use my name to cause trouble everywhere."

The Evil God had barely faded when...

The person's body at the bottom of the steps disintegrated silently before everyone's eyes.

From head to toe, from skin to bone, it turned to dust.

Then it was blown away by a gust of wind that seemed to come from nowhere.

The Evil God withdrew its gaze, its unfathomable eyes sweeping across the entire Altar and over the black-robed figures prostrate on the ground.

"I don't need believers, and I've never acknowledged you as my believers."

The area beneath the Altar was eerily quiet.

The black-robed believers knelt on the spot, forgetting even to breathe. Their minds were undergoing an unprecedented collapse of logic.

Isn't Lord Evil God Evil God Faction?

They committed murder, arson, kidnapping, and sacrificial acts—they were utterly wicked.

Isn't this precisely acting in accordance with the doctrines of the Evil God? Isn't this exactly what the Evil God desires?

They committed heinous crimes against the god they believed in.

We waited so long for God to descend in person, but what we received was neither praise nor blessing.

On the other side, the Federation fleet was also completely bewildered.

The two sentences the Evil God had just uttered kept replaying in their minds.

--Ah, no.

--If Evil God doesn't like to do evil, why isn't it called a benevolent god, but Evil God?

Just as the Evil God was about to say something more to the believers below the stage, his fingertips suddenly felt lighter.

He turned around abruptly.

Wuma Xiu looked down at the scroll in his hand.

It was a scroll painting, the scroll rod made of some kind of dark black material, smooth to the touch.

The scroll itself is not large, loosely tied with a Dark Gold ribbon. The knot of the ribbon is old, and the edges are frayed, as if it has been repeatedly rubbed by fingers.

This is the very painting that the Evil God still carries with him even in his slumber.

"You can't look at it."

The voice of the Evil God rang out reflexively.

But before he could finish speaking, Wuma Xiu's fingers had already deftly untied the loosely tied dark gold ribbon.

The scroll unfolded in his hands.

The Evil God's outstretched hand froze in mid-air, as if the entire god had been frozen in place, and a rare look of predicament appeared on his cold face.

"Huh, my painting?"

Wuma Xiu unfolded the painting, and what he saw was himself.

The figure in the painting tilts their head slightly, their light-colored eyes gazing out of the painting with a half-smile. The background is a blurry Sea of Flowers, and the brushstrokes are so delicate that even the texture of each strand of hair is clearly visible.

Wuma Xiu examined it for a moment, then gave a frank assessment:

"Well drawn."

Indeed, he is beautiful no matter what he looks like.

The Evil God quietly released the breath he had been holding onto the moment Wuma Xiu said, "Well drawn."

The boulder that had been hanging over his chest fell silently to the ground.

Thankfully, he only said that one sentence.

He didn't ask himself why he carried his painting with him.

At that moment, when the Evil God heard the Goddess of Beauty calling him, he was so excited that only one thought remained in his mind:

He's calling me.

Then he appeared directly beside the Goddess of Beauty.

I didn't have time for anything.

So much so that he forgot to hide the painting in his sleeve.

Now the person in question has discovered it.