Chapter 127: The Gardener [2] — The Power Of Wicked Faith

The Gardener more power toward the surface. Giant, withered tree titans covered with vines and red roses marched toward Soma—each towering thirty to forty meters, true behemoths.

“Hoh, it seems I’ve angered you, Grievance. Please don’t take this personally. I am simply rescuing innocents so they can later safely enter my dear mother’s paradise,” Soma said with a relaxed smile. “Of course, if you’re intelligent and can speak, how about joining me and my dear mother? I swear, she does not discriminate! Many Entities have become her children. You wouldn’t be the first.”

The Grievance did not take these words kindly. It grew even more furious. Giant trees and masses of vines surged everywhere—dozens, hundreds, then thousands.

“Oh my, this is not quite good. Did you get angry? Please reconsider what I said!”

As Soma pleaded for mercy, the giant monsters charged and attacked him. He was quickly crushed, exploding into black liquid and disappearing.

The creatures looked around in confusion.

Until.

“Hohoho…”

“You are an interesting being.”

“Hahaha…”

“Did you know?”

“Hohoh…”

“We Spiralwalkers are like the natural enemies of Grievances!”

“Hahah…”

“My dear mother has slain thousands of your kind before!”

“Hohoho…”

“Of course, I am more merciful. I was trying to let you join us.”

“Huhuh…”

“But maybe that’s not going to work, hm?”

To the shock of the Entities summoned by the Grievance, Soma emerged hundreds of times everywhere, sometimes even above the bodies of these monsters.

“Unless you can find my Fantasy Heart across hundreds of different bodies, you cannot kill me. I live for her and dedicate my spirit, heart, and soul to her cause! Oh great mother! Give me strength!”

Soma screamed with fascination as his hundreds of bodies began fighting, tearing apart every single one of these Entities. Some infiltrated their bodies and ate them from the inside out until they collapsed.

Other bodies turned into sharp, solidified weapons and impaled the giant ones until they fell. Others spread noxious gases that slowly withered the plants to death.

“This is the power of the Spiral of Compassion!”

The Spiral of Compassion—often thought capable only of healing and taking away pain—had countless configurations and uses.

Within the Church of the Hundred-Armed Abyssal Mother, Priests and Priestesses were taught the Art of Pain and the Essence of Darkness that could be drawn from relieving others’ suffering and absorbing it into themselves.

Through this dark power, the Priests of Compassion could become the most feared Curse Casters. Soma’s entire arsenal revolved around creating, manipulating, and embodying curses.

And he himself could turn into a Curse by fusing with his Incarnations, becoming like a noxious disease that spread across Entities, devouring them from within.

However.

“Enough.”

“Ungh?!”

Soma gasped as an immense shockwave of energy disrupted all of his bodies at once. Hundreds began exploding into flowers that blossomed everywhere before turning into their own fertilizer.

In mere seconds, over half his bodies were destroyed. Soma felt something deep within his soul and spirit slowly corrupting—sharp vines and roots trying to break through his own Fantasy Heart.

In the distance, he saw a floating blonde-haired elf completely covered in dark green and dark red vines with sharp golden spikes. Its eyes blossomed with red roses, and its long blonde hair was entwined with vines and flowers.

“Oh, is this the Ruler of Emerald Grove I have heard about?” Soma wondered, laughing. “Hahaha! I see how it is! How wonderful—so you’ve brought him here so he can witness our dear, beloved mother’s glory and divinity?”

“Spiralwalker… You have no power here.”

The elf spoke not with its own words, but with the voice of the Grievance itself. Reality within the Fantasy Field warped as roses and gardens spread everywhere.

“Nnnggh…!”

Soma groaned, vomiting blood and revealing his painful body as the rest of his bodies exploded into flowers one by one, then turned against him.

Even the hand-shaped entities he had summoned rushed to attack him, paralyzed by the Gardener’s power and blossoming into “beautiful flowers.”

“This is my garden, and I won’t let any pest disrupt the growth of my beautiful flowers.”

Soma felt immense pressure forcing him to kneel. But he refused, even as his body bled profusely and his clothes tore apart.

He looked into the skies, pressed his palms together, and prayed while caressing his rosary.

“Oh dear abyssal mother, lend me your thousand arms, your endless embrace, your abyssal mercy.”

The rosary in Soma’s hands cracked. Black liquid spilled from it like ink. His body convulsed, and from his back sprouted dozens of shadowy arms—each holding a different cursed relic: daggers dripping with sorrow, censers burning with despair, tomes inscribed with forbidden prayers.

The Grievance’s vines tightened, piercing his flesh, but Soma only laughed, blood pouring from his mouth. “Hahaha…! You think you can force me to kneel? My mother taught me that pain is the sweetest hymn!”

The elf’s rose-blooming eyes narrowed. The Grievance’s voice echoed through it. “You are a parasite. A disease. I will prune you from my beloved new garden. You are not fit to become one of my flowers.”

The Fantasy Field warped again. The sky above turned into a canopy of roses, each flower opening to reveal screaming faces. Their cries merged into a single, deafening chorus. Soma’s clones shattered one after another, his curse-bodies dissolving into red petals.

But then—

“My Mother’s Compassion is my greatest strength.”

Soma’s true body erupted in black flame as his Incarnation fused with him. His skin peeled away, revealing a writhing mass of curses—a living cursed plague. His shadow arms multiplied into hundreds, each clawing at the Fantasy Field’s space.

The roses that bloomed from his destroyed clones blackened. Their petals rotted and turned to ash. The Grievance’s garden faltered for the first time. His curse spread further, killing countless flowers and beginning to shake the Gardener’s resolve.

The elf’s voice trembled, though still the Grievance spoke. “What… are you?”

Soma’s many mouths laughed in unison, his voice echoing across the Nameless Streets. “I am the Priest of the Abyssal Mother. I am her disease, her compassion, her curse. And I will spread her love until even your garden learns to kneel before her grace! If this garden is not made for her, then it has no right to exist!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep