anwhile.
Rewinding slightly—to the mont Zhang Jizu parted ways with Cheng Shi.
The pragmatic [Death] Chosen One wasted no ti. The mont he left the church, he retraced the dayti route back to the Evil Infant Inquisition.
Why not take a shortcut? Naturally—because... steady does it.
He'd walked this road twice now. He knew the terrain and the surroundings. Familiar paths at night were the only paths that offered peace of mind.
Of course, the sole danger in nocturnal Dolgod would shortly be facing off against Cheng Shi's group. So his journey was uneventful.
He quickly reached the Inquisition, leaped over the wall into its courtyard, and gazed at the pitch-black interior hall.
Cheng Shi had asked him to find Gou Feng. Per their shared deduction, the Chieftain had most likely hung himself from the second-floor ceiling to escape pursuit.
Zhang Jizu frowned slightly, putting himself in the man's shoes. To hide from a Scavenger whose presence you couldn't detect at all—you'd never erge until you were absolutely certain the coast was clear.
But how do you confirm the absence of an enemy you literally cannot sense?
The answer: you can't. And since you can't, the safest approach is to extend your hiding ti—potentially staying concealed among the dead infants until the trial ends.
So Zhang Jizu estimated the Chieftain was still up there on the second floor. Hanging among those rows of inverted dead infants.
The question was: which one was he?
The arrangent looked deliberate and symbolic—and symbolic ant risky. Zhang Jizu was confident he wouldn't die in the trial, but he wasn't arrogant enough to take pointless risks.
Case in point: he stood in the moonlit courtyard with zero intention of entering the dark interior.
He even did his thinking in a spot with open sightlines and multiple escape routes.
After a mont's reflection, Zhang Jizu hit upon a thod—one that was, without question, one hundred percent prudent.
Set it on fire.
He was going to burn the Evil Infant Inquisition to the ground.
When this near-abandoned building was reduced to rubble, when all those "dried jerky" corpses were burned to cinders, he could leisurely search through the ruins for the Chieftain's remains and attempt to...
Resurrect him.
This approach eliminated any possibility of conflict with the Uma Sinners, incinerated every trap and conspiracy potentially hiding on the second floor, and carried virtually zero risk.
And resurrection? For a top-tier priest of the [Death] faith, that was hardly difficult. The plan's only real challenge was sifting Gou Feng's remains from the post-fire debris.
But for Zhang Jizu, even that wasn't hard. He was observant. Given enough ti, he could piece a person back together.
Moreover, the most important factor in his decision was this: when they'd parted, he'd vaguely guessed Cheng Shi's strategy—that the man's next moves would revolve around the Holy Infant.
If he guessed right, then burning the Evil Infant Inquisition was also a way to create montum for Cheng Shi's side. So all things considered—this thod was rock-solid.
Ti to execute!
The Gravekeeper surveyed his surroundings, then set to work—gathering every weed and dead branch in the courtyard and hurling them inside. Only when the dry tinder was piled all the way up to the second-floor windows did he pull from his storage... two cans of gasoline.
Gasoline is flammable. Perfectly logical.
Everything was ready. All that remained was a spark.
Zhang Jizu casually produced a match, struck it against his boot heel—and before the flicker could even illuminate his steady, unwavering eyes, he tossed it into the kindling.
What followed—
BOOM—
Flas erupted violently. This building that had stood for centuries was engulfed in a blazing inferno without the slightest warning.
At that precise mont, back at the church, the standoff had already concluded. Gao Ya was skulking through the church crowd, spreading rumors of Turadin's disappearance. The workers had been half-skeptical at first—but when news of the Evil Infant Inquisition's "heaven-sent blaze" arrived, every wakeful staffer in the church erupted into chaos.
Panic and unease instantly spiraled through the crowd.
Gao Ya detached from the throng and hid in a changing room, watching the distant fire at the Inquisition through the window. She sighed with admiration.
'His reputation is well-earned. This Fate Weaver is truly formidable.'
'Every idea of his cuts such an unconventional path, yet always seizes the situation's jugular—delivering maximum impact at the precise mont. Even when disruptions occur, he imdiately pivots to the next stratagem. The dazzling problem-solving makes it impossible to imagine where those wildly creative ideas even co from.'
'Honestly, more than a priest who nds fate, he's like a screenwriter who crafts details and orchestrates coincidences!'
'He really is a Fate Weaver, as the rumors say?'
...
Elsewhere.
Cheng Shi had swapped positions with his die. But he hadn't gone to Zhang Jizu at the burning Inquisition—he'd appeared right before Mo Shu!
Yes—he'd chased after the [Oblivion] Chosen One!
And the die that brought him to Mo Shu's side hadn't been planted on Mo Shu during their earlier skirmish. He'd slipped it into Turadin's pocket while covering Turadin's escape.
So the situation was: Cheng Shi used the die on Turadin's person to teleport himself right back to Mo Shu!
As for why...
Rescuing Turadin was secondary. The real reason: this greedy clown had his eye on the [Deceit]-bestowed Clown Substitute in Mo Shu's possession. Whether or not this was the Fun God's purpose for sending him into this trial, the item simply suited him. So he'd pursued without a mont's delay, intent on trading with the Scavenger for it!
Of course, if the other party refused a trade—conning it away was also acceptable.
And if even conning failed... then buddy, don't bla
for—
Rescuing the hostage first, heading back to strategize with Zhang "Steady" Jizu, and figuring out a Plan B!
Just kidding. The guy was a Chosen One. Cheng Shi was confident, but not delusional enough to think he could take down a Chosen One directly—especially when he was currently just a Fate Weaver. An ordinary Fate Weaver.
Before coming, his greatest fear was that Mo Shu had banished Turadin to so world on the verge of [Oblivion], which would have made his die-teleportation fail. But he'd gambled anyway.
And clearly—he'd won again.
Mo Shu hadn't done that. He hadn't even gone far. He'd simply knocked Turadin unconscious and taken him to a civilian house not far from the church.
The house was utterly bare—not a single piece of furniture. From outside it looked like an ordinary building, but stepping through the door revealed nothing but gray-white walls and empty space.
Cheng Shi's sudden materialization beside him genuinely startled Mo Shu—but the Scavenger didn't panic. He didn't even retreat. Instead, he exploded off the ground and drove a straight punch toward the nearby Turadin.
Mid-charge, he caught the fervent gleam in Cheng Shi's eyes. His heart lurched—he'd underestimated this Fate Weaver's character. Though not among the official peak players, his recklessness was indistinguishable from theirs.
Because this Fate Weaver had actually sidestepped half a body-width to shield an NPC—Turadin—with his own body.
The punch, brimming with boundless [Oblivion] force, slamd directly into Cheng Shi's shoulder socket—blasting him and the unconscious Turadin clean through the air together.
WHAM—
...
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