Lin Qiye's spiritual body slowly descended into the deepest depths of the [Evil God Prison].
Intermittent screams echoed from within the dark prison. The once-arrogant founder of the Old God Church, Whisper, was now being treated as a novel toy.
Cthulhu's thick, slimy tentacles batted his spiritual body around like a volleyball, playing a game with Hastur. Every impact drew a bloodcurdling shriek from Whisper.
"Ah—! Let me go! I am a believer of the Old Gods! I'm one of you—"
His words were cut short as Slaanesh's crimson appendage brushed against his cheek.
Slaanesh let out a sickly laugh, attempting to carve some sort of "artwork" into his spiritual body.
Fine pink lines spread across the surface of Whisper's soul, each stroke accompanied by agonizing, bone-deep pain.
Whisper's voice was already hoarse. "No... don't..."
His mind had completely shattered.
This peerless powerhouse who once controlled the Old God Church was now nothing more than a shivering, broken soul.
Lin Qiye watched Whisper's fate with cold indifference.
No sympathy.
No pity.
This was the proper attitude to have toward an enemy.
Just as he turned to leave, a kind, gentle laugh came from behind him.
"Hehehe... Good boy, well done."
The God of Life, Nurgle, sporting a massive belly so wide it would take several people to embrace, walked over amiably like a friendly neighborhood uncle and patted Lin Qiye on the shoulder.
His skin was a sickly yellow-green, covered in various bizarre protrusions, yet the smile on his face was surprisingly benevolent.
Feeling the warmth radiating from the hand on his shoulder, Lin Qiye surprisingly didn't feel any discomfort.
It was strange.
Logically, the power of plague Nurgle carried should have been enough to instantly rot any living creature.
But his body seemed immune to this power.
"Come with me, child."
Nurgle turned and walked toward his own cell. "According to the rules of the Evil God Prison, you are entitled to a special reward."
Lin Qiye followed him and pushed open the heavy iron door.
The sight before him made him pause slightly.
This wasn't the dark, gloomy cage he had imagined, but rather a bizarre yet vibrant "garden."
A strange fragrance filled the air.
It was a scent somewhere between floral and putrid, yet surprisingly, it wasn't unpleasant to breathe in.
Colorful mushrooms and fungi grew slowly along the walls.
They took on all sorts of bizarre shapes—some resembled human faces, others small animals, and some looked like various internal organs.
In the center of the room, a massive cauldron was boiling something.
Green bubbles constantly rose from the pot, popping with a *glug-glug* sound.
Nurgle pointed to a rocking chair nearby, fashioned out of plants and writhing flesh. "Have a seat, child."
Lin Qiye sat down without hesitation.
The rocking chair was unexpectedly comfortable, as if it had been custom-made for him.
Noticing that Lin Qiye was staring at his thick stew, Nurgle couldn't help but ask, "How about it? Care for a taste?"
Seeing the Nurglings tumbling in the pot and waving at him, Lin Qiye quickly shook his head.
"Your body is quite fascinating."
Seeing his refusal, Nurgle continued stirring the thick soup while speaking kindly, "It possesses astonishing resilience and vitality. It's practically a natural match for my power."
He turned around, and a green vortex made of countless pathogens and pus materialized in front of him.
Several runes representing the authorities of plague and decay bobbed within the vortex.
[Pustule Burst] emitted a foul, yellow-green glow.
[Miasma Breath] slithered and twisted like a venomous snake.
[Nurgle's Skin] was covered in a thick layer of pus.
There were many, many more runes, all radiating an eerie aura.
"There is no need to choose."
Nurgle's smile grew even more benevolent. "Simply reach your hand inside, and fate will select the most suitable blessing for you."
Lin Qiye didn't hesitate.
He plunged his right hand straight into the green vortex.
Instantly, a massive surge of power—embodying the contradictory concepts of both life and decay—flooded into his body.
The sensation was wondrous.
It felt as though death and rebirth were occurring simultaneously within him.
Every single cell was undergoing a cycle of destruction and reconstruction.
It was painful, yet brimming with vitality.
Finally, a rune glowing with an ominous green light branded itself onto his spiritual origin.
[Flesh Reconstruction].
The name automatically surfaced in Lin Qiye's consciousness.
Almost the moment he acquired this ability, a massive cluster of black tentacles suddenly burst from Lin Qiye's body.
Their size expanded wildly; the already thick tentacles became even more ferocious.
Catalyzed by Nurgle's power, a tough, dark-green cuticle formed over the surface of the tentacles.
That cuticle gleamed with a metallic luster, looking incredibly hard.
Even more bizarrely, the tips of each tentacle began to split open, transforming into maws lined with rows of fine, razor-sharp teeth.
Those teeth glinted with a chilling light in the dimness.
Lin Qiye could feel that the destructive power of these tentacles had increased several times over.
Not only that, but they had also gained some sort of "regeneration" ability; even if severed, they could regrow in a short amount of time.
Furthermore, Lin Qiye could now use his tentacles to meld with flesh and blood, rapidly restoring his health.
This was the power of [Flesh Reconstruction].
"Not bad, not bad."
Nurgle looked at Lin Qiye's transformation with satisfaction, chuckling. "Now you'll be even harder to kill."
He waved his hand. "Go on. It seems someone is waiting for you in the asylum over there."
Lin Qiye nodded, stood up, and bid his farewells.
When he stepped back out of the prison gates, his consciousness had already returned to the [Asylum for the Gods].
The familiar white corridor appeared before his eyes.
Lin Qiye slowly walked past the first three tightly shut ward doors and arrived at the fourth door at the end of the hall.
This door was different from the rest; a shimmering golden talisman was affixed to it.
The talisman was covered in scriptures he couldn't read, the dense text radiating a holy light.
Lin Qiye gently touched the talisman with his finger.
Instantly, a tyrannical, untamable will that looked down upon the world surged from it—a will that felt as if it wanted to pierce a hole straight through the heavens and the earth.
It was neither holy nor evil.
Rather, it was a pure, insubordinate will to "fight," as if some entity were declaring war on the entire world.
Moved by a sudden impulse, Lin Qiye tried to push the door open.
The golden talisman, which looked capable of suppressing anything, offered absolutely no resistance the moment he touched it.
*Crack.*
The talisman began to shatter inch by inch, turning into specks of golden light that dissipated into the air.
Lin Qiye pushed the door open. Inside was not the hospital ward he had imagined, but a paradise resembling the Water Curtain Cave.
Stalactites hung from the ceiling of the cave, and clear water trickled down through the crevices in the stone.
In the center of the cavern sat a stone throne, upon which a monkey was sitting cross-legged. He wore a tattered chainmail of yellow gold and a phoenix-feather cap of purple gold on his head.
A magnificent golden cudgel rested across his knees. The staff was carved with complex runes and emitted a faint golden glow.
Hearing the door open, he abruptly opened his eyes.
They were a pair of Fiery Golden Eyes, seemingly capable of seeing through the Three Realms and Six Paths, piercing through all the illusions of the world.
Two beams of golden light shot from his eyes, staring straight at Lin Qiye.
Then, his mouth curled into a wild, uninhibited grin.
That smile carried a hint of long-lost excitement and anticipation.
"Hah!"
His voice echoed throughout the entire asylum, shaking the tightly shut ward doors until they trembled slightly. "You brat, you're finally here!"
Lin Qiye looked at the legendary being before him, a strange sense of familiarity welling up in his heart.
The Great Sage Equal to Heaven, Sun Wukong!
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