The reincarnated devil was blessed by the goddess

Run...Run...

If you don't move... you'll be eaten...

The ruins were filled with a strong stench that was suffocating.

The road surface is now covered with a thick layer of black silt, with occasional bubbles slowly rising and making a "gurgling" sound when they burst.

The walls were covered with deep cracks, as if they had been whipped severely by huge tentacles, and the remaining fragments were covered with black stains.

In the distance, a huge mass of black mud was slowly wriggling, its surface constantly undulating, and countless tentacles were struggling inside.

Occasionally, a pale arm or a distorted face would emerge from the mud, but would quickly be swallowed up and disappear without a trace.

"Come here quickly!"

Theresa's face was covered in dust, her black hair was stuck to her forehead by sweat, and her eyes showed a hint of confusion and fear.

The survivors huddled in the shadows of the ruins like a group of frightened beasts, their eyes empty and desperate.

Their breathing was weak and rapid, as if even breathing had become a luxury.

Before the man finished speaking, the sky suddenly darkened.

A huge black shadow fell from the sky and instantly submerged the group of survivors.

A powerful shock wave spread out from it, stirring up gravel and dust on the ground.

Before Theresa could react, she was violently blown away by the force.

Her body rolled in the air like a dead leaf, then fell heavily to the ground, rolling several times until it hit the edge of the woods and stopped.

Her arms and legs were covered in scrapes, and blood oozed from the wounds, staining her clothes red.

"Uh... ow..."

She tried to prop herself up, but the severe pain made her almost unable to move. Her vision was blurred and the world in front of her seemed to be shrouded in a layer of black fog.

There was a buzzing sound in her ears, like a distant whisper, or like her own heartbeat.

That's it...it doesn't matter...

Those who cared about her have long since died, and those who remain only bully her.

Even if you survive by chance, you are torturing yourself.

It would be better to die more comfortably this way.

In the woods, the wind blew gently, and the leaves made a rustling sound.

And Theresa lay there quietly, waiting for an unknown fate.

I don’t know how much time had passed, but the wind blew up the ashes on the ground, carrying a pungent burnt smell, and swept across the broken walls and collapsed houses.

The sound of hurried footsteps in the distance broke the silence.

A group of men approached rapidly from the other end of the ruins, their armor flashing a cold light in the dim light.

The leading knight was holding a lance with some black stains on the tip, obviously he had just experienced a fierce battle.

"What a tragic situation..."

The knight murmured softly, his voice filled with a hint of fatigue and helplessness.

He bent down, picked up a piece of wood that was corroded to the point where its original shape was almost unrecognizable, and threw it aside.

The wood was covered with black slime, as if reminding them of the cruelty of the disaster.

"Are there any survivors? We really need to find out who survived this filthy disaster."

Urban's gaze slowly swept across the ruins, an indescribable determination in his eyes.

"This is the third attack this month."

Urban muttered, his eyes fixed on the still wriggling mass of black mud in the distance, his brow furrowed.

"The filth is consuming it faster and becoming stronger... We can't continue like this."

The pressure on the church is increasing. The shortage of personnel and the gap in strength have made them gradually lose the upper hand in this war against filth.

Every attack means more sacrifice and destruction.

As the bishop of the Judgment Church, this deadlock must be broken.

"Keep searching!" Urban waved his hand, his voice firm and powerful. "Don't miss any corner! We must find survivors; they will be of great use to us!"

The team quickly dispersed and began to search carefully among the ruins.

Since the white-haired girl was unwilling to help them, they had to find another way.

"How's our experiment going?"

Urban tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the well-dressed man next to him wearing single-frame glasses.

In his hands was a thick notebook, the pages densely covered with complex formulas and scribbled notes.

"According to the seized lab report, the fusion experiment theory is feasible." The man pushed his glasses up, his voice calm and rational. "But the problem is, no one can withstand the power of filth. It will infinitely magnify the subject's obsession until their spirit collapses and they eventually die."

Urban was silent for a moment, then looked toward the distant ruins. "That's why we've come to these places attacked by the Filth, searching for survivors. They've witnessed the horror of the Filth firsthand and faced the threat of death. Their fear and despair may hold the key to our experiment."

The man nodded, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, revealing a meaningful smile.

"As long as we have a precedent, we can prove that this path is feasible. Then, saving the world will no longer be an empty talk."

Urban didn't respond, but simply looked up at the night sky.

The moon still hangs high in the sky, and its cold light shines on the earth.

Its light remains pure, high above, watching the sufferings of the world with indifference.

"Your Excellency, we have found three children."

A knight hurried over and interrupted Urban's thoughts.

"We have rescued two, but the third..."

"What happened to the third one?"

"His breathing was very weak. We tried our best to save him, but too much time has passed... I'm afraid he can't be saved."

Urban was silent for a moment, then waved his hand gently. His tone was indifferent but firm: "It doesn't matter. As long as she has a breath left, it's fine. We will find a way to handle the rest."

The knight nodded, quickly retreated, and continued to devote himself to the rescue work.

Urban's gaze once again turned to the still wriggling black mud in the distance, and a hint of determination flashed in his eyes.

"Whatever the cost, we can't stop."

The man pushed up his glasses, smiled slightly, and said in a low, cold voice, "Yes, Your Excellency. As long as we succeed, all these sacrifices will be worth it."

The night wind blew by, bringing a hint of coolness, mourning for the lives lost in these ruins.

……

The Holy Sin Prison, a forbidden place established by the Church of Judgment, is specifically used to imprison sinners who have committed serious crimes and are awaiting execution.

During this period of filth and chaos, it unexpectedly became a temporary shelter, providing a safe haven for those who had lost their homes.

"Take these three children away and lock them up with her."

Bishop Urban's voice echoed in the empty corridor, his words concise and firm, leaving no room for doubt.

Following his order, the two prison guards carefully picked up the three children. Although their movements were rough, they were considered rare gentleness in this chaotic era.

Urban watched them leave, then turned around and followed the medical staff to check on the injured.

"Why does the bishop always bring people back? Prison beds are free, right?"

A guard muttered quietly, his voice carrying a hint of dissatisfaction and helplessness.

"Keep your voice down. You know what's going on outside. Those who are still alive are in pain too."

Another guard responded in a low voice, his tone revealing his understanding of the situation and his respect for the bishop.

"But why lock these three children in there? Wouldn't that put four people in the room? And I don't think they're in good condition. Shouldn't they be treated first?"

"Why do you care so much? The Bishop has never harmed us. What we need to do now is not to cause trouble for the Bishop."

The two guards discussed quietly while carrying the child towards the designated cell.

Although their conversation was trivial, it revealed the helplessness and dependence on the bishop during this period.

"By the way, who is this person imprisoned in there? It seems like the bishop and the saint are very concerned about her."

"I only know that she's very pretty and she's decorated her cell quite nicely, almost treating it like her own home."

"So...where's her home?"

"Oh, let's stop talking about these topics! Send them over quickly and we'll go help."

As the crisp sound of a door closing echoed in the long corridor, their footsteps gradually faded away.

At this moment, the original owner who had been staying in the cell slowly put down the paintbrush in his hand.

Three thin figures clung tightly to the freezing ground.

She gently stretched out her hands and carefully placed them on the children's chests, trying to feel the weak but tenacious beating heart.

Some subtle little expressions began to appear on her face.

In this inconspicuous and unnoticed little corner, a warm light was quietly born.

“So warm…”

Theresa's voice was so weak that it almost sounded like a whisper. She was the weakest one, but also the first to wake up.

Perhaps, it was because of her deep desire for warmth that she unconsciously captured that meticulous ray of sunshine.

Her fingers trembled slightly, trying to catch the light in front of her.

The light flickered slightly and avoided her touch.

Theresa's heart sank slightly, her fingertips froze in mid-air, and then dropped weakly.

As expected, she was still only worthy of staying alone in the darkness, and even the light was unwilling to stay for her.

Just when she was about to give up hope and let herself fall into darkness again, the light suddenly changed direction and rushed towards her without reservation.

Theresa was stunned, feeling an unprecedented warmth enveloping her whole body.

She slowly opened her eyes, and her blurry vision gradually became clear.

A person with white hair and golden eyes was holding her gently in his arms.

The man seemed to be emitting a soft light, like the incarnation of the sun, warm and dazzling.

Theresa had never seen such pure light, nor had she ever felt such a reassuring embrace.

Her body was still weak, but her heart seemed to be injected with new strength, making her want to get closer to this warmth.

"so tired......"

She couldn't remember how long it had been since she had a good night's sleep in the sunshine.

Those days tortured by darkness and cold seemed to be completely dispelled at this moment.

Her eyelids grew heavy and her body relaxed.

"Let me sleep for a while...even if this is just a dream..."

Her voice became softer and softer, like a dream talk.

In this warm embrace, she finally let down all her defenses and allowed herself to fall into a deep sleep.

This was the first time in a long time that she felt so at peace, as if all the pain and loneliness had been melted away by the light, leaving only endless tranquility and warmth.

After an unknown amount of time, Theresa woke up from hunger.

Then, he lifted the quilt covering his body.

Huh? A quilt? How can there be a quilt?

I'm clearly... dead!

This thought made her already confused mind even more confused.

Theresa suddenly opened her eyes and quickly turned over.

Perhaps because her movements were a little hasty, or because her body had just woken up and had not yet fully recovered, her cheeks were slightly flushed.

Her eyes were fixed straight ahead, even though there were two little boys chattering around the white-haired sister.

Theresa seemed to be blind and deaf to them, even forgetting why she was there and how she survived.

She only had eyes for that sister.

How should I say hello to her? I have always been a person who almost never takes the initiative to communicate with others.

Just watching from afar is actually enough to make yourself feel satisfied.

A burst of "cooing" sound broke the silence.

My uncooperative stomach began to protest and sent out hunger signals.

The sudden sound seemed to make a bold choice for her - to walk towards her.

Himawari heard the sound, raised her head, and inched closer to Theresa's bed.

Theresa, on her side, heard the footsteps getting closer and closer, and instantly became nervous. She pulled the quilt over her head and quickly covered it tightly.

How could Sunflower allow her to act like this so easily?

She pushed the quilt aside and slowly extended a hand towards Theresa.

Feeling this sudden action, Theresa subconsciously raised her hands to protect her head and closed her eyes tightly, not daring to relax at all.

Sunflower did not make any extreme moves, but just gently spread out her palms.

Instead, a soft and warm light slowly bloomed from her palm, and the light condensed into the shape of a sunflower.

Theresa opened her eyes tremblingly, and her hands involuntarily reached out towards the light.

Himawari held Thearesia's hands and passed the light into them.

Theresa's eyes fell on the light in her palm, and she felt the warmth, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly.

"What's your name?"

Himawari wrote these words on a piece of paper and placed it in front of Theresa.

"Theresa."

Theresa glanced at the words on the paper and mustered up the courage to ask.

"What about you, sister..."

Beautiful handwriting, written on white paper.

"sunflower."