Qin Mingshen's face darkened, killing intent flashing in his eyes.
The Nine Great Divine Churches, whom he and Du Jingzhe had once beaten into fleeing like rats, had ultimately appeared as victors.
At that moment, every one of the Nine Great Divine Church leaders was brimming with confidence, divine light effects shining around them, halos seemingly growing behind their heads.
Their immaculate ceremonial robes stood in stark contrast to the bedraggled people on the battlefield.
The Flesh Prison Cult leader held a holy tome and looked down from on high, his eyes devoid of fear and filled only with eager excitement.
"Qin Mingshen, did you think defeating Du Jingzhe meant you could claim the whole world?
"You want Divine Gestation? First ask whether the Nine Great Divine Churches will allow it!"
With a sweep of his sleeve, a tide of voices surged behind him.
Fanatical believers shouted one after another, their momentum astonishing!
"Why waste words with him? Does a lowly blasphemer deserve to ascend to godhood?
"Kill him and use him as a sacrifice to the gods!" The Abyss Cult leader sneered, looking at Qin Mingshen as though he were already dead.
Qin Mingshen gave a cold laugh as he watched the arrogant nine leaders.
"Rats in the gutter want to reap the fisherman's reward too?"
"Bastard!"
"Insolence!"
"You dare insult our divine churches!?"
The nine leaders attacked at once, divine light surging from their bodies.
In an instant, the pressure between heaven and earth plummeted. Unknown murmurs sounded from the unseen, carrying a bone-chilling cold that pierced the heart with every word.
They were the murmurs of Evil Gods not belonging to this world—sticky and twisted, like fetid water flooding rotten wood, like countless whispers scraping against eardrums, making one's entire body shiver.
The next moment, nine enormous,