Chapter 185: Gideon Enters the "Village"
Three days earlier, after discovering that the mountain folk could transfer power among themselves, Gideon had come up with this plan.
What he hadn't expected was that they would hold out far longer than anticipated.
Fortunately, Gideon had patience to spare, steadily draining them dry one by one.
Using the energy he siphoned off, he set up a layer of exorcism formations outside the cave.
Ideally, he would have nested another isolation array on top of it—so whatever happened inside the cave wouldn't leak out at all.
Unfortunately, the area was simply too vast. This would have to do.
Gideon returned once more to the cave entrance.
Just as he was about to activate the formation, a mountain folk suddenly staggered out on its knees.
This one had fleshy horns growing from its head—a member of the "third generation."
Yet now its steps were unsteady, its entire body radiating extreme exhaustion.
Bang!
"Horn-Head" shoved over a wooden rack—there wasn't even half a scrap of meat left on it.
It then collapsed to the ground, pustules across its body swelling and shrinking as it emitted a shrill, whistling cry into the night.
Gideon narrowed his eyes. He recognized it as a call to summon its kind.
Sure enough, before long, a squad of mountain folk emerged from the forest—second-generation ones.
They all kept their heads lowered, trembling with fear.
"Horn-Head" charged up to them, letting out a series of sounds with a strange rhythm.
Though Gideon couldn't understand the language, the gestures made it clear—this was an interrogation.
One of the second-generation mountain folk replied with a few sounds.
The next instant, it dropped to its knees, clutching its head.
Moments later, it went completely still.
Gideon watched intently.
"Psychic attack? Or higher-ranked life control over lower ranks?" he wondered.
If it was the former, it wasn't too concerning—ordinary mental assaults rarely worked on him.
But if it was the latter…
Originally, Gideon had planned to activate the formation and let the mountain folk exhaust one another.
Now, though, he realized he needed to understand this ability more clearly.
After that second-generation mountain folk died, the others grew even more terrified, kneeling on the ground and submitting to Horn-Head's scolding.
Fortunately, it didn't last long.
Once tasks were assigned, Horn-Head returned to the cave.
Gideon quietly followed the second-generation squad.
With the element of surprise on his side, he subdued them with ease.
Using [Psychological Counseling], he quickly learned the truth.
This squad was responsible for escorting food.
But for the past two days, no new supplies had come in from the forest's edge.
Even the reserve food within the second-layer forest had mysteriously vanished.
They had searched most of the forest, finding nothing—only discovering that many of their kin had inexplicably disappeared.
When Horn-Head summoned them, they had no choice but to show up empty-handed.
The outcome was predictable.
Now they were ordered to replenish supplies immediately—even if that meant slaughtering the nearby town.
After all, those natives were merely "reserves" left behind by the Progenitor.
Hearing this, Gideon's expression turned slightly awkward.
Along the way, aside from purifying the mountain folk that pursued him, he had destroyed every camp he encountered—
all to prevent any place from becoming a breeding ground for evil.
Naturally, he hadn't spared the "food" either.
Those were all tortured souls, and sending them to rest was the only mercy he could offer.
Judging from the situation, his actions had indeed achieved the intended effect.
At the same time, he learned more about the third-generation mountain folk.
They truly held a higher status, capable of commanding first- and second-generation kin.
This "nobility" stemmed from bloodline suppression—something ingrained in mountain folk from birth.
The good news was that third-generation mountain folk couldn't directly kill their lower-ranked kin.
What Horn-Head had used earlier was mental contamination, a power unique to the third generation—
creating overwhelming hallucinations in a target's mind, pushing their mental capacity past the limit until the brain ruptured.
Gideon stroked his chin.
From these creatures, he also learned that some mountain folk still remained deep in the forest—
though they were already in terminal decline. Their fate was to contribute their remaining "energy" to produce purer-blooded offspring.
Because of this, their treatment was comparatively better:
secluded camps, and no worries about food.
But that life ended today.
Led by the second-generation squad, Gideon paid a visit to each of those camps,
letting those brutal creatures experience what it meant to be "invaded."
Under his scorched-earth approach, everything was looted clean.
No resistance arose along the way.
When the claws of their own kin pierced their chests, those "survivors" stared in disbelief.
They couldn't understand why the younger generation would obey a human.
They never would.
By the time Gideon returned to the third-layer forest, a sizable group of second-generation mountain folk had gathered around him, hauling numerous cooking pots.
Inside them simmered their own predecessors.
Gideon found Jenny. Things were about to get chaotic, and it was safer to keep her close.
Jenny's eyes widened at the sight.
"Gideon… why do I suddenly feel like you're the villain here?" she murmured.
Naturally, Gideon refused to accept such slander.
A vast crowd gathered outside the cave.
Under Gideon's command, the mountain folk placed the cooking pots at the cave entrance.
He had already poured holy water into them.
He was confident these creatures would have a "wonderful" dining experience.
The aroma of meat soon drifted into the cave.
Horn-Head and the other third-generation mountain folk quickly appeared at the entrance.
Seeing the pots brimming with food, they could barely restrain themselves.
So many lower-ranked mountain folk entering the third layer drew some attention—
but filling their bellies came first.
During their days trapped in the cave, they had even begun consuming their own flesh.
The sound of chewing soon filled the air.
Through the second-generation intermediaries, Gideon learned that the upper ranks were extremely satisfied.
Once the timing felt right, he had a second-generation relay a message:
"Tasty, isn't it? There might be one of your family members in there."
Since all third-generation mountain folk were born from second-generation ones, the statement wasn't wrong.
Horn-Head froze.
It had never imagined a lowly creature daring to speak so insolently.
Mountain folk valued clan bonds deeply—this cohesion was vital to fulfilling the "True Lord's" command.
Furious, Horn-Head rose, preparing to mete out punishment publicly.
But the next instant, its expression twisted.
A terrifying force erupted from its abdomen, rapidly dissolving its flesh.
In panic, it could only draw on its own power to resist.
The same thing began happening to the other third-generation mountain folk.
Only then did they realize something was terribly wrong.
Horn-Head thrust out one hand, trying to unleash mental contamination with what little power remained.
But when it touched a second-generation's brain, it found it couldn't form a single illusion.
How was that possible?!
At the same time, the second-generation mountain folk launched their attack.
Chaos instantly erupted at the cave entrance.
After some time, numerous mountain folk corpses littered the ground.
Only then did Gideon step into view.
He approached a third-generation mountain folk—the one with the fleshy horns protruding from its head.
"H… human… it's you…"
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
This thing could actually speak human language.
"Congratulations—you guessed right," he replied casually. "Did you enjoy the meal?"
As he spoke, he calmly set up an isolation barrier around the creature.
"You despicable humans," Horned Head rasped. "Your vile nature is as low and filthy as ever."
"Nature?"
Gideon's voice suddenly rose. He crouched at a safe distance.
"You actually know a word that noble?"
He lifted a finger.
"Just in those few sentences, you've already made several basic errors."
Horned Head froze, clearly confused.
"First," Gideon said coolly, "no matter how grotesque you look or how disgusting your tastes are, if we trace things back far enough, you still carry human genes."
"Second, you've slaughtered countless travelers who wandered into this forest. Did you really never consider that one day you'd meet the same fate?"
"And finally," he continued, smiling faintly, "I come from the Church. I'm a priest of exemplary character—kind, upright, and always eager to help."
For a moment, Horned Head was left speechless.
Especially when it heard the word Church, a strange look flashed across its eyes.
"Do you even know whom we serve?" it hissed. "You have trespassed upon sacred land. The True Lord will never forgive you."
Gideon rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"All of you on the evil side love calling your master the 'True Lord.' Seems that title isn't worth much."
"Blasphemy!"
Horned Head suddenly roared.
"We serve the sole master of Hell—Satan! When the Son of the Devil descends, all of you will be judged!"
Gideon's brows lifted slightly.
"So this really is Satan's domain… Then the cave was prepared for that purpose."
He continued calmly,
"So if I destroyed all the embryos inside that cave, the Devil's Son can no longer be born—am I right?"
Horned Head fell silent.
After a moment, its tone softened unnaturally.
"…I am the Devil's Son. Those things inside were nothing more than our food."
Gideon's mouth twitched.
That lie was painfully bad.
"When you were 'contributing energy,'" Gideon said flatly, "I saw everything."
"So it really was you!"
Horned Head's face twisted with fury as it tried to rise and attack—only to slam into an invisible barrier.
"Enough nonsense," Gideon said evenly. "Before you die, you're going to tell me everything you know."
Under the influence of Psychological Counseling, Horned Head quickly broke.
"The Progenitor was once nothing more than an ordinary farmer living in this forest," it muttered.
"She lived in poverty for many years… until the day she discovered a ritual altar."
"After striking a deal with the True Lord, she gained immense power. She devoured her husband… and gave birth to the first generation."
"The Progenitor bears the duty of nurturing the Devil's Son. When the Holy Child of the Murder House dies, this place will become—"
The words stopped abruptly.
Dozens of thin tentacles burst from beneath its skin, savagely biting into Horned Head's skull.
Moments later, the mountain folk fell completely still.
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