The price of that sigh was Wu Heng lightly tapping his right foot against the ground.
A crimson ripple, invisible to the naked eye, spread horizontally from beneath his foot, radiating outward in waves in every direction.
One kilometer, ten kilometers, a hundred kilometers. Until it reached a thousand kilometers.
The ripples covered the entirety of Oregon.
Every injured person touched by them was instantly healed. Even dried blood that had dripped into the dirt flowed backward into their wounds.
Bleeding had been reversed.
Nearly four million Oregon residents had been wailing in pain. Some had been severed at the waist and were clinging to their last breath, one second away from death. Yet their wounds immediately healed as well, their lower bodies growing back as though being inflated like balloons.
People were stunned. This was a miracle!
In that instant, those who had only been casual believers saw the strength of their faith in their respective religions rise to devout levels.
But one group understood the truth. They had sensed the crimson fluctuations, because they themselves were Blood Floss Cursed Disciples.
They were the people who had escaped from the white cage.
They stopped tending to the wounded and looked up at one another, their eyes brimming with excitement.
Martin had once told them that gods were humanity's enemies, and that perhaps only demons from hell could help them.
But would hell save the world? Would demons save people?
Excitement filled the eyes of these free Cursed Disciples. Hell? Demons? No, perhaps this was the true Lord!
At that moment, they made a decision: to correct their faith.
They understood the meaning in one another's eyes. They would correct every religious text that pointed toward the "Creator." They were wrong.
They all needed to be revised, their source redirected