Northern United States, Iowa, Saint El Church.
Pastor Ron used his fleshcraft to gather together all the living corpses he had smashed to pieces earlier.
Under the force of frenzy, the flesh swelled and melted like fermenting bread, transforming into the freshest possible mixture.
All the miscellaneous remnants belonging to the corpses themselves had been removed, including the utterly rotten fragments of their souls.
He carefully carried over the two little girls who had only their skin left.
With a gentle pull of his fingers, like a skilled craftsman, he guided the evolved crimson mixture into the bodies of the two girls.
Their bodies gradually filled out.
A rosy complexion gradually appeared on their faces, making them look like lively little girls who had regained life.
The slight rise and fall of their chests, along with their breathing, proved that they were exhibiting vital activity.
"Alas!"
Ron let out a soft sigh.
Because he knew that everything before him was merely an illusion. The two little girls appeared to be breathing, but in truth, they were only bodies with vital activity—two flesh puppets.
There was no life, no soul.
The two girls were already completely dead. Their souls had been devoured, and there was no longer any chance of saving them.
Everything he was doing now was merely a form of corpse beautification.
"Rest in peace. Amen!"
On that stormy, thunderous night, the rain all around seemed to avoid the church's backyard, as though this place were sacred and inviolable.
In the darkness, a ring of faint candlelight flickered continuously around them.
Ron placed the two girls into a custom-made shared coffin and recited prayers for them again and again.
Then he walked over to the coffin.
He extended his hand and gently brushed over the two girls' slightly open