Naruto: The villain template of me is regarded as the savior

The solemn atmosphere in the stone tower was completely gone.

Like a pool of blood that opened up an artery, the thick blood eroded and swallowed everyone up, making everything as far as the eye could see was a coquettish scarlet color.

Click!

An extremely abrupt sound sounded, particularly harsh in the desolate silence, as clear and crisp as a silver bottle exploding.

Interrupting all the believers who were praying devoutly, they subconsciously looked up at the source of the sound, the huge dome at the top of the stone tower!

It was the glass dome on the top of the stone tower that exploded, and glass shards fell from high altitude onto the crowd below.

It was as if a giant hand had lifted the curtain, the noisy wind surged in from high places, and the white cloths covering the heads flew away.

"Everyone." The gentle voice as usual reached everyone's ears, "Good evening."

Just in front of the broken glass dome, a figure stood in the air, with a bright full moon behind him.

The symbiotic tissue that shot out from Yun Chuan's body stuck to the surrounding walls like flesh and blood spider silk, and he stood at the center of this intertwined spider web, looking down at the many believers at his feet.

The silver moonlight behind him illuminated the surroundings with him as the center, clearly illuminating the greedy and ugly faces of the believers, and the filth and filthiness in the entire stone tower were undoubtedly revealed.

On the altar below.

Xiangshan raised his head and looked at Yunchuan's face, but there was no movement or reaction.

"Why are you here?" After a long time, he asked in a puzzled tone, "Did we not provide good hospitality?"

He still had that kind smile on his face, just like a smiling face growing on it.

In his long life, his hands were stained with too many sins, enough to warn anyone who came close to him, showing how vicious and terrifying this person was.

But he cunningly put on a mask with tight seams at the corners, hiding everything about himself under that kindly smiling mask.

Just like a lantern fish in the ocean, hanging bright lanterns attracts ignorant fry to rush into his sharp teeth and be swallowed into his bottomless belly.

"Hospitality? Is this how you treat guests?"

Yahiko, who had been deceived, had never felt so angry before. He stared at the unchanging terrifying smile: "What do you want to do to that woman?!"

do what?

The old man who was being questioned seemed confused. He lowered his head to look at the angry Yahiko in the distance and frowned: "We are sacrificing our 'Lord' and welcoming the birth of the 'Son of God'."

After the words fell, the believers raised their heads and looked at the woman on the altar with piety and enthusiasm. They looked pitifully and greedily at the swollen belly. The prayers in their mouths seemed to express their desire.

They expected the Son of God to be born, cook it with fire, divide it and eat it, and be with their "Lord"!

The Son of God is "immortal", and they can also be "immortal"!

"Praise my Lord!"

Listening to the frenzied chanting around him, Yahiko felt like he was about to explode with anger, and his chest was burning so hard that his throat was smoking.

"Praise my Lord! The Lord and I..."

Xiang Shan was about to speak, but suddenly stopped.

Because an almost transparent line appeared on the side of his face, the skin slowly split open to reveal the bright red flesh underneath, and the bright red blood slid down from the wound and soaked his face.

On the wall behind him, scarlet spikes were deeply embedded, and the hard masonry shattered and white ash splattered.

"..."

Xiangshan's smile became a little stiff, and the prayer in his mouth was not uttered after all.

He just raised the thumb of his right hand, lightly scratched the wound with his knuckles, and rubbed it on his lips, with a flash of obsessive aftertaste in his eyes.

The blood stain was completely healed and restored in just a few seconds at a speed visible to the naked eye.

"Yahiko."

Without looking at him, Yunchuan lowered his head and looked at the angry Yahiko over there, with a deep meaning in his tone: "I'll give you three seconds."

After that, he stretched out three fingers and whispered: "3."

Only, three seconds.

Hearing this, Yahiko took a deep breath.

He knew very well that these three seconds were only reserved for him.

"Can't you see it?"

Yahiko pulled the nearest believer over, shook her shoulders vigorously and shouted, "He is a liar! He is lying to you! How can there be any god in this world?!"

If there is a "god" in this world, how could his father, who had been kind all his life, be ruthlessly killed, leaving only a cold tombstone?

If there is a "god" in this world, he cried and prayed to the gods not to take away his mother's sick life, but why didn't he get a response?

If there is a "god" in this world, and He is high above and listens to the constant wailing and crying in the war, wouldn't he have any mercy at all?

No! There is no God!

At the top, Yun Chuan shook his head, put away a finger, and whispered: "2."

"Why do you want to rob lives?" Yahiko looked at them and whispered feebly, "Why do you want to trample on life?"

"Because this is the oracle of the 'Lord'!"

The old woman beside Xiangshan raised her hands, turned around and looked up at the stone statue of the evil god, her expression and tone were full of madness: "Trample on life! Plunder life! Please my Lord! Give us abundant blessings!"

"Dedicate them to the Lord!"

The sound rose from low to high.

The coldness above the head is enough to stimulate the human survival instinct. The nerves of many believers are twitching crazily, sending escape signals to their brains.

But strangely, they didn't escape.

He even burst out with unparalleled cohesion and something similar to belief, singing swaying hymns in his mouth and slowly surrounding Yahiko and Nagato.

"Death is rebirth!"

"The Lord gives us abundant grace! Death is rebirth!"

If it is in the legendary murals and written stories, this scene is the pilgrims offering sacrifices to the gods.

Seeing all this weird and weird stuff, Yahiko felt as cold as falling into an ice cellar.

The anger in his chest was gradually covered by the coldness, spreading to his skin, jaw and ears, and the coldness continued to spread throughout his body.

To please? To please the gods?

Where is the joy? What's so interesting about this?

"You guys..."

Yahiko slowly closed his eyes and murmured with a painful expression: "What do you think of life?"

These guys in front of them have been completely brainwashed. Perhaps each of them has their own pain and regret, so they can only place their hope in the so-called "God".

Inflict your own misfortune on others.

drop.

A drop of scarlet blood fell from the top of the tower and splashed on the ground. It was clear and penetrating, interrupting the fanatical chanting.

Then came the heavy rain, and there was a noisy sound of rain inside the tower, washing the eyes of every believer.

They subconsciously twitched their noses, but they could smell the endless fishy wind swirling in the heavy rain.

That's not a heavy rain, it's just bright red blood!

Many believers subconsciously looked up, only to see many twisted black shadows falling down.

Bang! !

First, the torso of an old man who had lost his limbs and head hit the altar, denting the skeletons.

It looked like it was torn apart by brute force, and the bones and flesh at the fracture twisted and rotated, exploding rotten flesh.

Then, illuminated by the faint light of the moon above.

All he could see was the head of the old man who was still carrying the fanaticism, and the broken limbs and arms were falling down like gravel.

If Yahiko opened his eyes, he would be able to recognize that not long ago, this face had a gentle and kind smile, and he looked at him as if he were looking at his own child.

Everyone can smell the violence above that selects and devours people, and the terrifying and suffocating threats are clearly stuck on their faces, enough to make people tremble and clench their teeth and run away in fear.

But no one present chose to escape, and the voice of prayer became more pious.

Death is not terrible, death is rebirth.

"The time has come." That calm voice was like the god of death urging death.

Kumokawa looked down at Yahiko and the believers below. Blood-red mist enveloped him, a scarlet visor condensed on his face, and more spiked scarlet tentacles stretched out from behind.

The next moment, countless sharp and ear-piercing explosions sounded in the tower.