After Anderson unleashed the holy fire.
Alucard was set ablaze, and his entire River of Death was consumed by the flames as well.
As for that corrupted sea burying endless undead... it now churned and boiled beneath the intense heat, vast clouds of yellow-green gas erupting from below and filling everyone with dread.
One had to know that although this thick filth was sticky and rotten, it was rich in organic matter.
And after a series of fermentations, these impurities would produce a well-known, natural, and pure source of energy...
Biogas.
Yes, that was right. Though this filth was enough to make people recoil at the mere mention of it, and though it was putrid beyond measure, it was Father Nurgle's sacred garden, where countless microorganisms leaped and cheered.
They enjoyed this heavenly and wonderful environment.
Then offered up their metabolic products to this beautiful world... sulfides and methane.
But now, the holy fire from heaven was burning fiercely, and the instant the gas filling the air met the flames, London lit up once again.
Explosions.
Endless explosions.
Severed undead limbs, torrents of filth, endless ruins.
It was a horrifying tableau that humanity could never fully capture in words.
Perhaps only the experiences of Hidetaka Miyazaki's youth, along with a certain painter surnamed Sun, could barely recreate a fraction of its essence, allowing all living beings to witness this supreme grace seemingly bestowed by Father Nurgle.
"D-Damn it!!!"
Integra looked at the nightmare before her, her expression incredibly complicated. She seemed furious, yet terrified as well. Almost immediately, she grabbed Fang Mo by the collar, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "Wang Jiangchen! Look at what you've done!?"
"I merely moved France's Seine River to London."
Fang Mo looked downright delighted. "Oh, right. Why not hold the next Olympics in London? I