Ashes Of Deep Sea-Chapter 180 - 184: Attack of the Doomsday Preacher

Chapter 180: Chapter 184: Attack of the Doomsday Preacher

“Get back, you filthy beasts!” A-Gou’s roar thundered like exploding lightning, reverberating through the dilapidated hut, while those attackers clad in tattered black robes, resembling ascetic monks, were clearly shocked to hear a Profound Demon articulate human speech with reason— and the next second, something even more astonishing happened.

Sherry swung her chain and hurled the Abyssal Hound she was holding directly at the nearest “Doomsday Preacher.”

She didn’t really understand much about Doomsday Preachers, vaguely aware they were another group of heretics, even more fanatical, more extreme, worshipping “the Master” that was Subspace itself. Sherry had no idea why a bunch of lunatics like these had suddenly appeared in Plunder City-State, nor why they had found her, but that didn’t matter—

Her experience fighting in filthy backstreets and alleys taught her one thing: when faced with danger, don’t bother with incomprehensible matters, just roll up your sleeves and get the damn job done!

The massive Abyssal Hound, like a cannonball, whizzed through the air and smashed into one of the black-robed “preachers.” After the dull thud of flesh and bone colliding, the assailant was sent flying backwards and crashed solidly against a nearby column, twisting into an unnatural angle before sliding to the ground.

Sherry yanked the chain to drag A-Gou back to her side, then swung it in a wide arc towards another enemy.

But in that brief moment, the few figures in black robes had already reacted—clearly, they were more experienced in combat than those lowest-level Sun Cultists that Sherry had encountered before. Even when faced with such a rare combat style and falling into a momentary bewilderment, these bastards quickly regrouped and managed to scatter and dodge as the Abyssal Hound lunged at them.

One of them narrowly dodged A-Gou’s skeletal head, moving to the side while raising a hand towards Sherry. From beneath the hood came a hoarse, grim shout, “Thou shalt exhaust thy strength!”

“Quit your goddamn mumbling, what the hell are you even saying!” Sherry was extremely irritable at that moment, and hearing his esoteric outcry only fueled her rage further. She stepped, twisted her waist, turned around, and the chain in her hand whooshed out, slamming A-Gou’s skeletal body right into that screaming Doomsday Preacher, sending him flying.

However, it was during those few flicks of the chain that Sherry suddenly felt something wrong with her body.

She felt a bit tired, not too severe, but the sensation of fatigue was definitely there.

At the same time, she felt a buzzing in her mind, her rage seeming to rampage uncontrollably in her chest, impulsively urging her to abandon all defense and rush forward to meet her enemies in mutual destruction. The urge pounded violently, almost causing her head to throb and swell.

Out of nowhere, a strange squeaking and cracking sound reached her ears. Sherry looked toward the source of the noise and saw the assailant she had just sent flying now crawling up from the ground. The attacker’s body was drenched in blood, many bones clearly broken; however, this “Preacher” seemed to ignore the pain that would have incapacitated an ordinary person and, whilst spouting blood, raised both hands high: “My brethren, shall not die by the curse of flesh and blood!”

After this delirious proclamation, the surrounding Doomsday Preachers suddenly seemed to gain boundless courage and strength. The next second, Sherry watched in horror as these lunatics’ bodies began to transform—their gaunt frames swelled and contorted, thick bone spurs and resilient muscle whips grew and extended from their limbs like weapons, their bodies tearing and reshaping in immense pain to become hideous and grotesquely twisted—and yet these maniacs seemed to fall into a state of inexplicable ecstasy amidst their agony, cheering, shouting, and praising, before lunging at Sherry with renewed fervor.

“What the hell is this?!” Sherry certainly wasn’t about to sit around waiting for these assailants to cause more trouble. As the body of the first Doomsday Preacher began to transform, she whirled her chain with a whoosh, smashing the dog into the nearest enemy. The enemy was smashed to the point of broken tendons and shattered bones; though not dead immediately, his mutation process was instantly halted. However, just by raising her arm, Sherry felt more fatigue than before and a sharper, more agonizing surge of violent impulse in her mind.

She even started hearing noises that didn’t exist, with each muscle in her body feeling as though it were being gnawed upon by invisible fangs, suffering cruel and brutal pain, as if every fiber of muscle was about to detach from her body.

“These ‘Preachers’ willingly embrace the madness of Subspace! Their words and figures carry contamination!” Dog’s voice suddenly rang in Sherry’s mind, fraught with unprecedented urgency, “Don’t let them keep spouting off! Whichever son of a bitch opens his mouth, you smash that one! Don’t look them in the eyes, don’t listen to their cries!”

In a flash, a cold gleam suddenly appeared on the edge of Sherry’s vision. She instinctively tried to dodge but still got her arm pierced by a bone spur. As she hastily swung the chain to retaliate, she felt her limbs twice as heavy as before. This time, her vision even began to blur with dark afterimages.

Another Doomsday Preacher took the opportunity to spread his arms again, loudly uttering a venomous prayer: “Thou shalt incur an injury that will not heal…”

“Boom!”

“Screw the hell off!” Sherry, swinging the dog around, smashed the crazed, spine-covered mutant “Preacher” into the wall. But the next second, she suddenly felt a fierce pain in her back.

A bone spur, like a long spear, came from a treacherous blind spot and plunged deep into her back. Had her body not become as tough and resilient as a Profound Demon’s from years of “Demon Symbiosis,” she would probably have been pierced straight through.

Sherry’s body involuntarily pitched forward, while Dog abruptly stepped in front of the assailant seeking to strike again, opening its mouth to expel a highly corrosive mixture of black flame and acid.

The assailants were temporarily pushed back, but Sherry was in very bad shape. She propped herself against a nearby wall, feeling the blood continuously flow down from her back, feeling her muscles twitch uncontrollably throughout her body.

The Doomsday Preacher’s corruption had taken its effect—although the Profound Demons’ resistance allowed her to withstand this abnormal state better than ordinary people, because she was caught off guard with weakening and curses at the start, she could now clearly sense her body gradually… losing control.

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Her blood was boiling, the noise in her mind was intensifying, her muscles were twitching, she saw smokes rising from the wound on her arm, where instead of healing, the torn flesh was sprouting up grotesque, disgusting new flesh, and blood, as if with a life of its own, was moving around the wound, coagulating, taking shape.

The injury on her back was likely in a similar state.

“…Fuck, all this effort, just to kill three…”

Sherry spat out a mouthful of blood to the side and chuckled with a grimace.

“That’s not too bad,” A-Gou’s grumbling voice came from nearby. The voice of the Abyssal Hound sounded somewhat dispirited—as the first line of defense when Sherry was contaminated, it was actually affected even more severely by those Doomsday Preachers, “These are all priest-level ascetics, not the kind of rabble that gets swindled into donating money at basement meetings… You fought them, it’s almost like assaulting a church district… You didn’t get a bad trade.”

“Fucking hell, a bunch of grown-ass men ganging up on a harmless little girl, you adults really have no shame,” Sherry lifted her head, her face smeared with blood, and looked at the Doomsday Preachers who were gathering around her, her eyes filled with ferocity, “What did I ever do to you?”

There were still three standing Doomsday Preachers, who had all transformed into monstrous creatures with skeletal frames and flesh grotesque. The tattered robes hung on their mutated bodies like shrouds, appearing even more sinister in the dim light.

Of course, they didn’t respond to Sherry, just as a hunter would not negotiate with his prey.

Sherry coughed out blood and looked around.

The commotion from the fight was significant, yet until now it hadn’t drawn the attention of any guardians, nor had it disturbed the neighbors. The scene outside the window remained hazy, the street unusually quiet.

Clearly, the entire house was enveloped by some sort of “barrier,” a thorough preparation made by the assailants before making their move.

The furniture was destroyed.

The walls and columns were shaky and unstable.

The only wardrobe was shattered by a shockwave during the fight, the few pieces of clothing and the small drawer for loose change fell to the ground, soaked in corrupted blood, corroded away by acid.

The most valuable oil lamp in the house was knocked over as well, its shade shattered on the floor.

“All the little things I had, smashed to pieces by you,” Sherry could no longer support herself, her body slowly slid towards the floor, but she still looked up, at the enemies who had raised their bone spikes ready to strike, “You bastard things, I’ll make sure to splatter your faces with blood…”

The bone spikes pierced down through the air.

Then they slowed in the blink of an eye, casting multiple overlapping afterimages, finally freezing mid-air.

A streak of green flame abruptly appeared in the room, which should have been completely shrouded by the barrier. Within the flames, a huge and fierce skeletal bird circled and danced midair, and a shrill, strange female voice entered Sherry’s ears—

“Our warrior is engaged with the enemy… Teleport successful!”

(Time to recommend a book, this time it’s from Aikanxue’s Big Goose “Spreading Faith in a Text Game.” It’s an urban genre, emmmmm… This is a novel about saving the world by cultivating both in a text game and reality. The author is still one of our fellow readers, everyone can go support it~)