Chapter 172: Internet God, I Seek Atonent Before You!
The Grassland Barbarians had invaded the borders again.
For the commoners of the Hariman Preaching Zone—especially those near the frontier—this was nothing unusual.
Those demonic figures living in the far northwest of the Hariman Mountains would find ways to bypass the mountains every winter, charging in to plunder supplies and abduct people.
As the saying went: In tis of peace, they followed their herds, hunting beasts for survival; in tis of urgency, they trained for war and raided!
But what was strange was that it was now spring, when all things revived. The Grassland Barbarians should have been busy herding their livestock and chasing pastures. Why had they suddenly launched a large-scale invasion?
Mo Rui, a commoner of the Hariman Preaching Zone, couldn’t understand it.
But it didn’t matter much to him.
His ho was located deep within the Hariman Preaching Zone. Though refugees from the borders occasionally fled here during winter, under the protection of the great God of Dark Night, those terrifying Grassland Barbarians could never reach them.
He firmly believed this!
As the sun set in the west, cooking smoke pierced the sky from the stacked buildings of the city, and the dying light stained the horizon blood-red.
The old hunter Mo Rui sat in his courtyard, sharpening his hatchet in the fading daylight.
"Dad, pack up quickly! The Grassland Barbarians are coming!"
Mo Charlie, Mo Rui’s only son, rushed into the courtyard in a panic.
"Nonsense! We’re thousands of miles from the Hariman Mountains. Do those barbarians have wings?" Mo Rui scowled, scolding him.
"Dad, they don’t need wings! They have portals! Portals, you understand? It’s all over the internet—Brontë has already fallen! If we don’t run now, we’ll be next!" Mo Charlie hurriedly explained.
"What? The internet? You little brat, you went online again? Didn’t you hear what the priests said? That’s heresy! It slowly devours a person’s soul—it kills! Without a soul, how can you enter heaven?"
The old hunter Mo Rui was furious.
"Dad, it’s not heresy. Everyone uses it, and they’re fine!"
"You dare argue with ? Don’t think I won’t drag you to the temple of the God of Dark Night just because you’re my son!"
Mo Rui flew into a rage, pointing at his son’s nose in threat.
The re ntion of the internet filled Mo Rui with hatred for the God of Death and the Internet God.
The priests were right—this year’s ominous events were surely brought by the God of Death and the Internet God!
Those Propaganda Leaflets raining from the sky were like ghosts descending upon them. It was terrifying.
"Dad! You’ve been deceived! The internet doesn’t devour souls—it consus Soul Power, just like how mages cast Magic. That Soul Power regenerates over ti!"
"What? Consuming souls? You admit it consus souls! If your soul is consud, how can it co back?"
Mo Charlie watched his father’s stubbornness, pacing anxiously like an ant on a hot pan.
Though the God of Death and the Internet God had scattered their Propaganda Leaflets across the multiverse, the actual number of users remained minuscule compared to the vast population of the multiverse.
The gods’ years of cultivation in their preaching zones were no joke.
With ideologies like "atonent," "ascending to heaven after death," and "doomsday" drilled into them, fanatical Believers were far from few.
Especially since most commoners were illiterate, their spiritual worlds barren and their discernnt weak. Their only source of information was the Magistrate and the temple’s single mouthpiece.
Therefore, as long as their claims weren’t too absurd, slightly self-consistent in logic, and aligned with their folk-science mindset, people naturally believed whatever they said.
In reality, even on Blue Star, where information exploded exponentially, how often did such things happen?
"Boom!"
A terrifying explosion suddenly erupted from the city, cutting off the argunt between Mo Rui and Mo Charlie.
Father and son exchanged stunned glances!
"It’s bad—the Grassland Barbarians must have broken through! Quick, pack our things and run!"
"Impossible! The Dark Night Temple will protect us!" Mo Rui refused to believe it.
Mo Charlie was nearly driven mad!
How had he ended up with such an impossibly stubborn old man?
"Screech—"
The piercing cry of an eagle finally settled their debate.
They looked up to see dozens of massive eagles circling the city sky, diving down intermittently to strike key targets.
As the eagles banked mid-flight, they could even spot the Sky Cavalry mounted on their backs!
They were none other than the Grassland God’s—Eagle Riders!
"Run!"
Father and son locked eyes, their argunt forgotten as they dashed into the house to gather their valuables.
By the ti they rushed out, the city had descended into utter chaos!
Civilians fled in every direction—so pushing carts, others pedaling bicycles, and many simply carrying whatever they could on their backs, scrambling madly.
Amid the turmoil, so even took advantage of the chaos to loot, with bicycles becoming pri targets.
So bicycles changed hands multiple tis in re monts.
Others, consud by despair, abandoned escape altogether, resorting to smashing property and violating won in the streets!
In the midst of the pandemonium, Mo Rui and Mo Charlie ran for their lives.
When they finally reached the city gates, a deathly despair engulfed them.
At the gates, Grassland Barbarians sat astride unicorn horses, their greedy eyes fixed on the crowd like wolves eyeing stray lambs.
Glancing up, they saw the battle on the city walls still raging—Magic, Battle Aura, and divine techniques flashing brilliantly.
But none of that mattered to Mo Rui and his son anymore.
The blocked gates ant their escape route was completely cut off.
Countless Grassland cavalry charged forward, brandishing scimitars, slaughtering civilians at random to display their might and terror, herding the crowd toward the city center.
More dismounted and stord into alleyways, plundering valuables—and even people.
"Stay calm, stay calm... The Dark Night Temple will save us. The Dark Night Temple will save us," Mo Rui muttered incessantly, jostled within the packed crowd.
Though he seed to be comforting his son, he was really just reassuring himself.
Mo Charlie staggered forward, his face etched with despair.
The Internet had broadened his horizons and deepened his knowledge—but now, it only brought him hopelessness.
Because he knew they were finished.
The city’s divine shield hadn’t activated, aning the Church had likely already fallen—the city’s strongest defense was gone.
Once they were driven to the city center and the portal opened, they would all beco slaves of the Grassland Barbarians!
No one would save them. No one could.
The North Ai Grassland was too vast. The tribes road with the water and grass, gathering into armies of millions or scattering into countless clans.
No one could find them—except the Grassland God.
And as it turned out, Mo Charlie’s guess was right.
When they were herded by the terrifying Grassland Barbarians toward the center of the city, a towering portal had already risen.
Groups of civilians were shoved into the portal.
The crowd seethed with screams and terror. Countless people desperately pushed backward, only to be t with their fellow citizens frantically shoving them forward.
No one wanted to beco slaves of the Grassland Barbarians!
Even a single second’s delay was precious.
"No, no, no... The temple of the God of Dark Night will save us..." Mo Rui watched the scene, growing increasingly horrified and broken. He shook his head violently, praying to the temple of the God of Dark Night.
In truth, many others were doing the sa.
"Shut up! The temple of the God of Dark Night won’t save us! The God of Dark Night is the real evil god! What has he ever brought us but disaster? Huh?"
"And why didn’t you listen to ? If you had, we might have already escaped the city by now!"
Mo Charlie snapped, shouting at his father in frustration.
Mo Rui froze, his lips trembling. For once, he didn’t assert his fatherly authority to scold his son.
His gaze swept blankly across the surroundings.
At the edges of the crowd, more and more people were being dragged out of alleyways by the Grassland Barbarians and thrown into the mass.
The few mages and warriors who dared to resist were swiftly cut down.
Above, eagles circled, watching every corner of the city.
Not a trace of the temple of the God of Dark Night, the object of his devout faith, could be seen. At this mont, Mo Rui shattered.
The crowd jostled and shoved!
"Great God of Dark Night, save us!"
"Gods, have rcy on us!"
Prayers and pleas rose and fell among the people.
At first, most still called upon the God of Dark Night, but gradually, other nas began to mix in.
So began to address any god who might save them.
Others recited the nas of every deity they knew.
"Internet God, we beg you, save us!"
There were even those who invoked the Internet God.
"The Internet God?"
Mo Charlie listened to the clamor around him, his face twisting in self-mockery.
This was Hariman—why would the Internet God care about them?
Still, as long as there was the internet, he still had a chance.
—His mind now held only one thought: If captured by the Grassland Barbarians, he would fight to survive, use the internet to study magic, and find a way to escape.
Slowly, Mo Rui and Mo Charlie were pushed toward the portal. Just as they were about to be swallowed by its glow—
Mo Rui suddenly shut his eyes and scread, "Internet God, save us! I beg for your atonent! I should never have slandered you!"
The mont his voice faded—
Plop—
A strange sound, like a stone dropping into water, rose from beneath their feet.
To Mo Rui’s shock, countless people plumted into the earth as if they were dumplings falling into a pot.
"This... this is the Fourth Calamity! The Internet God has co to save us!"
Ecstatic shrieks erupted from the crowd.
Mo Rui, who had also fallen into the earth, stood frozen. The next mont, his vision blurred with tears.
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