Chapter 274: The Itch
"Bang!" With the explosion of the amplification altar, the livestream came to an abrupt end.
The entire livestream lasted less than ten minutes, but with an entire superpower actively fueling its spread, it quickly circulated across the globe.
Aided by the internet's reach, countless followers of the One-Wheel Cult naturally saw the livestream. After watching the video, they became extremely agitated.
"This is a blatant disregard for our faith!"
"Unbelievers are destined for the fiery hell!"
"Annihilate his family!"
"Die! Die!"
...
Throughout Maysuo, cries for revenge echoed everywhere. Ning Yan Huo's words during the livestream, calling them "idiots," "useless," and "trash," deeply wounded their pride.
"A self-sacrificial strike from a curse-type Ability User, indeed..." Ramdo had already realized the troublesome nature of the situation.
Perhaps the lower-tier believers didn't yet grasp the true power of such a high-level ability, but he understood this was unequivocally a disaster that could sweep across the entire nation.
At that moment, he even wished the attack had been directed at him. Even if it cost him ten proxy holy spirits, it would be better than putting these ordinary believers through such torment.
"Your wish has been granted. Sustained by this piece of tree heart, you can remain in this world for ten more days." Bai Mo used his psionic power to support Ning Yan Huo's head, speaking to him in an utterly flat tone.
"Ten days? That's enough. Thanks to that altar, my curse can last for seven days. With an itch that deep, I don't believe anyone can endure a full week."
"Wait two days. The day after tomorrow, it will be my turn to act."
"I'm a little curious. With your strength, if you wanted to annihilate the One-Wheel Cult, you could flatten them and leave not a single armor piece behind. Why did you need me?" After completely unleashing the hatred in his heart, Ning Yan Huo calmed down.
"The One-Wheel Cult isn't as simple as you imagine. At the very least, Ramdo can injure me."
"Only injure you?"
"To truly kill me, at least half of the Five Tiers on this planet would have to attack together, and then half of them would have to sacrifice their lives."
"So, you're not invincible yet."
"Not yet, but I will be soon." Bai Mo had no intention of hiding much from the dying man before him.
Just as the One-Wheel Cult followers began to gather and denounce the scoundrel who had blasphemed their faith, the curse truly began to descend.
"My foot! It's so itchy!"
"It's my left hand! I'm dying from the itch!"
...
Although the assembly was in progress, the original speaker had to withdraw midway due to a sudden onset of intense itching.
A large number of people suffering from itchy feet no longer cared about their image, tearing off their shoes and socks right there in the square, frantically scratching with their hands.
Others, afflicted by an unbearable itch in private areas, practically ran home or to the nearest restroom at life-threatening speeds.
But the most desperate were those with an itch in the middle of their backs. That spot, a perfect blind corner for one's hands, left them no choice but to lie on the ground, desperately rubbing against it to alleviate the unbearable torment.
In less than two minutes, some had already scratched themselves bloody, yet they couldn't stop. Itching, in many cases, is more agonizing than pain itself.
Some jumped into the park's pond, attempting to use the water's flow to alleviate the itching, but to little effect.
Others pulled out ointments from home, applying layer after layer, but regrettably, they seemed to have forgotten Ning Yan Huo's declaration: "incurable by medicine."
Maysuo was a nation entirely composed of One-Wheel Cult followers. Such a curse instantly brought the entire country to a standstill. Under the relentless itch, almost only the upper echelons, whose faith was nearly non-existent, retained enough mental clarity to think.
"Everyone, we are now facing the most severe trial in our history!" Ramdo immediately convened an emergency meeting.
He knew his response to this attack had been a complete miscalculation. Indeed, no one could have anticipated such a circuitous method. But he was a god, and a god could not admit to mistakes.
"Preachers have just experimented, and Faith Power can temporarily suppress this curse..." a subordinate reported.
"In that case, temporarily release the reserves of Faith Power within the divine kingdom and distribute it to preachers in various regions."
"Yes!"
Ramdo felt no joy over this less-than-ideal solution.
The mastermind capable of severely wounding him was still lurking in the shadows. According to his guess, this shadowy figure was likely the one responsible for filming the video. Currently, they were effectively consuming the foundational reserves of his divine kingdom. After all, as long as Faith Power remained inexhaustible, he was almost impossible to defeat.
After fifteen minutes, the first nationwide itch finally subsided temporarily. Everyone who had just been tormented for a quarter of an hour was now drenched in cold sweat.
Those who had been rubbing themselves against the ground didn't even care about the tears in their clothes; they simply collapsed, sprawled on the ground, their bodies utterly spent from the intense exertion.
Seizing this rare moment of respite, many recalled every single word of the curse Ning Yan Huo had uttered. They wished they could eat his flesh, tear apart his bones, and cut him into ten thousand pieces.
There were also some with wavering wills who, after the previous fifteen minutes of torment, had already begun to entertain certain thoughts. However, in this nation of universal faith, even such nascent ideas had to be meticulously concealed.
Itch! Itch! Itch!
Another fifteen minutes passed, and the unbearable itch erupted once more, this time in different locations. What was previously an itch in the left hand now moved to the right; itchy feet turned into an itchy neck.
And in the trenches of the Western Front, where they were battling the European Union, the situation was even more desperate.
The waves of unbearable itching spreading across their bodies made it impossible for these once-steadfast soldiers to even hold their rifles steady. The torment caused their hands to tremble uncontrollably while aiming.
The battlefield preachers, originally tasked with boosting morale, were now using all their power just to suppress the itching themselves. Even with their devout faith in the One-Wheel God, they could only barely hold on, with no capacity to care for others.
"Oh, great One-Wheel God, why have you sent us such a trial?" Countless individuals suffering from the relentless itch had only this single thought left in their minds.
Despair and rage began to sweep across the nation. Yet, anger offered no escape from their physical agony. The itch, worse than death itself, left these people without even the strength to vent their fury. And so, despair quietly spread.
The emergency teams formed by the preachers were utterly incapable of extinguishing the raging fire that had spread throughout the entire nation.
What's more, the Faith Power only suppressed the itch symptomatically, not fundamentally. Once the suppression was lost, it would return every fifteen minutes, just the same.
The deeper their faith, the more severe this deadly itch became. These loyal believers were precisely the cornerstone that allowed the One-Wheel Cult's upper echelons to cultivate rapidly by harnessing Faith Power.
But now, this very cornerstone, which supported the entire system, began to wobble precariously under such an unexpected blow.
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