V2: Chapter 64: The Most Terrifying Thing is the Human Heart
However, no one noticed, or rather, everyone's attention was focused on those tentacles, preoccupied with panic and the fear of the unknown, never considering that the malice of the surrounding humans was the most terrifying force.
"Oh...this thing."
Clatter, clatter, clatter~
Joseph flipped through the book in his hands, making a loud "rustling" sound.
Unlike the other priests, Joseph worshipped not a holy God, but Cthulhu.
Cthulhu, this name was like a taboo, representing evil and chaos. Yet, Joseph firmly believed that Cthulhu was great; he believed that the evil god could bring him power and wealth.
Yes, all for himself.
He held an ancient book of verses in his hand, his tool for proclaiming his Cthulhu faith. With beautiful words and moving stories, he portrayed the evil god as a benevolent and generous deity. He told the villagers that as long as they devoutly believed in Cthulhu, they would receive the protection of an evil god, and the village would enjoy good weather and abundant harvests.
The villagers had never heard of Cthulhu before, nor did they know where this god came from. However, they believed in God, and they also trusted the highly respected priest before them. So, when Joseph uttered such unrealistic and seemingly erratic words, all the villagers present, including the village chief, believed him.
“Father, please tell us what to do!”
Joseph’s face flickered with light and shadow. He smiled. “Of course… build a temple for the god.”
As Father Joseph spread his belief in the evil god Cthulhu, the atmosphere in the village gradually became eerie and solemn. The villagers put down their farm work and instead devoted themselves to an unprecedented project—building a temple to the evil god.
Under the priest’s guidance and incitement, the villagers began to cut down trees and quarry stones to build the place of their gods.
The men, axes and shovels in hand, their clothes soaked with sweat, showed no sign of fatigue. The women prepared food and water, providing logistical support for the men. For a time, the entire village was immersed in this frenzied yet mysterious atmosphere.
As construction progressed, a majestic temple to the evil god gradually rose from the ground in the center of the village. The temple's exterior, constructed of dark stone and wood, appeared solemn and mysterious. The temple's roof was carved with intricate patterns, seemingly some kind of ancient and mysterious runes, shimmering with an eerie light.
"Next, the important part," Joseph said, his eyes filled with anticipation.
The altar.
Inside the temple, the villagers had built a massive altar. The altar was made from a single piece of obsidian, its surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting the tense yet devout faces of the people. Around the altar were various strange statues and ritual implements, all collected by Joseph from various places, said to enhance Cthulhu's power.
In the final stages of construction, Joseph personally led the villagers in a grand ceremony. Holding torches, they danced around the altar, chanting incantations, seemingly praying for blessings from the evil god. The firelight danced in the night sky, illuminating the villagers' fervent and devout faces, enveloping the entire village in a mystical and solemn atmosphere.
When the last stone of the altar was placed, Joseph loudly proclaimed the temple's completion. He stood before the altar, raising his hands in prayer to the empty sky. The villagers knelt and prostrated themselves around the altar, their hearts filled with awe and anticipation for Cthulhu.
From that moment on, the temple became the heart of the village. The villagers came daily to worship, offering sacrifices and praying for the evil god's protection. Joseph became the village's spiritual leader; every word he spoke was considered divine pronouncement, and every action he took inspired fervent devotion among the villagers.
The villagers' lives seemed to have indeed improved. The weather was favorable, the harvests were increasingly bountiful, and everyone was constantly in high spirits, seemingly possessing inexhaustible energy. They never needed rest; as soon as they opened their eyes, it was a time of celebration.
"It's wonderful!"
"It's wonderful!"
Some greeted each other almost frantically.
"Since the temple was built, I feel much better."
"Yes, this must be the great God Cthulhu! I often have wonderful dreams, hahaha~ Sometimes I want to stay immersed in the dream and never wake up."
Yes, immersed in the dream.
Forever, ever.
Never to wake up again.
The smiles on people's faces increased, the profits increased, and the village gradually became prosperous.
But...
As time went by, the village changed more and more drastically. The once peaceful village became noisy, and the villagers' hearts began to grow restless. They began to pursue more wealth and power, no longer satisfied with a simple and ordinary life. All these changes are the consequences of the Cthulhu belief woven by Joseph using lies.
A month passed, and life seemed peaceful.
Until...
One morning, the peace was shattered by a piercing scream, a sound like a sharp blade tearing through the village's tranquility. The villagers, who had been sleeping soundly, were awakened by the sudden noise, a nameless unease rising in their hearts.
The sun had not yet fully risen, and the village was shrouded in a thin layer of morning mist, adding to its mystery and eeriness. The villagers came out of their homes and gathered at the spot from which the scream had come, eager to investigate. There, they saw a villager lying in a pool of blood, his face pale, his eyes closed, as if he had already left this world.
What was astonishing and chilling was that a faint smile lingered on the villager's face, a smile that seemed to carry a hint of satisfaction and happiness. His lips were slightly upturned, as if he had died in a sweet dream. This eerie expression sent a chill down the spines of the villagers present; they could not imagine that a person could show such a happy and beautiful smile before death.
The young man in the front row suddenly collapsed to his knees, trembling helplessly. He couldn't hold his urine any longer and unleashed a torrent of urine.
"Quick! Go! Go to the village chief!"
"Yes, and then, go find the priest!"
Joseph arrived, his brow furrowed beside the body, seemingly deep in thought. He bent down, carefully examining the body, trying to determine the cause of death. However, after his examination, he found no obvious external injuries or signs of poisoning.
This bizarre death caused a huge uproar in the village. The villagers speculated wildly, some saying it was a curse from an evil god, others that the deceased had been attacked by a demon.
"Wait."
Octaville interrupted the villager again, asking, "Was he leading you in dancing around the campfire? Uh, what kind of strange sacrificial ritual is this?"
"A sacrificial ritual?!"
The villagers were shocked.
Octaville nodded. “If that wasn’t a sacrificial ritual, what else could it be? Normally, a real sacrifice would only require chanting a few words. Uh… I guess that dance was just a prank? Or maybe it was to avoid attracting your attention… Oh, by the way, did you hire any musicians for your dance?”
The group exchanged glances. “Hmm… if I’m not mistaken, we did.”
“Then I know. The music probably masked, or diverted, your attention, so you didn’t notice his mutterings.” Octaville gave a cold laugh, crossed her arms, and looked towards the town. “That guy is really cunning, and likes to play tricks. You can only say his mind isn’t on the right things.”
“And then what? Continue your story.”
Things grew increasingly bizarre, and an inexplicable fear enveloped the village. Ever since that morning scream, the shadow of death had been constantly looming over the village.
Every week, a villager would suddenly die, and each of them wore a blissful smile, as if they had peacefully departed this world in the most beautiful dream.
These dead villagers, their bodies, always appeared in different corners of the village—sometimes in the fields, sometimes by the stream at the village entrance, and sometimes even before the altar of the evil god's temple. Each time a body was discovered, the villagers felt a chill run down their spines. They couldn't understand why these villagers died with smiles on their faces, and why their bodies appeared in such eerie places.
However, what was even more chilling was that despite the continuous deaths, the village seemed to be becoming increasingly prosperous. The once barren land now yielded exceptionally lush crops, and livestock multiplied vigorously. The villagers' living standards had significantly improved, and long-lost smiles returned to their faces.
These seemingly contradictory phenomena left the villagers both confused and terrified. They began to suspect that an evil god was secretly manipulating everything, using death and prosperity as a bargaining chip.
However... Regarding the bizarre deaths, everyone chose to remain silent.
Because...
Despite their deep fear, they couldn't resist the lure of money. As the village grew wealthier, the allure of money and material possessions began to sway their hearts. They yearned for a better life, to enjoy more wealth and glory. Therefore, they silently endured their fear and continued to live there.
"We... we don't know what happened to us, we just felt that even dying like this would be a blessing," one villager broke down, screaming, clutching his head, sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot streaming down his face, squatting on the ground, "We were so afraid of death, we...we wanted to move away, but why...?"
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