Starting from Robinson Crusoe

Chapter 342 147: The New God

The dagger was still embedded in the eye socket of the Indigenous Warrior.

The sun gradually sunk beneath the horizon, and the once noisy and bustling forest returned to silence.

The stench of blood and decay emanating from the corpse lured scavenging insects, which in turn attracted birds and omnivorous rodents, all frantically vying for food, circling and calling.

A gentle breeze blew, causing leaves to softly drift down, landing on the agonized and fierce face of the Indigenous Warrior, slipping into small crevices secluded by plank-like roots.

Here, he will decompose, becoming sustenance for the earth.

...

Chen Zhou always felt that there was a difficult-to-remove smell of blood on his hands.

He tried crushing petals, breaking open plant leaves, using their sap to cleanse his hands, but to no avail.

On the way back to the beach, his mind kept replaying the moment the dagger pierced the eye socket, the instant blood gushed out, and the Indigenous Warrior's last cry of despair.

He knew he had already killed many people today; this one did not make a difference.

He also knew that if he didn't kill that Indigenous Warrior, and gave him an opportunity, he would surely kill him and Lai Fu.

He kept convincing himself – you acted in self-defense and made the right choice.

But somewhere deep inside, there was another voice questioning him, why he could save the other two Indigenous people but not spare this one; he too was a life.

As Indigenous people, they seemed not too different; perhaps those two rescued Indigenous youths had also killed and eaten people.

All were beast-like individuals, all were worth being tamed; why did some survive and others die?

Chen Zhou wanted to tell himself that what he killed were enemies, and what he spared were servants, people who could serve him.

Yet this doesn't perfectly quell the questioning deep inside – to not kill the Indigenous Warrior, to bind him and take him home could also turn him into a slave.

At that time, the Indigenous caught by Lai Fu had clearly lost the ability to resist; if he wished, he could have completely captured him alive.

"From only slaughtering livestock, when did I become so brutal?

Was it impulsiveness, fearing Lai Fu's injury that prompted such a harsh move, or had accumulated anger and resentment finally found release?"

This time, the usually self-aware Chen Zhou couldn't find an answer.

Once again, he plucked a fleshy leaf, squeezed out its sap and rubbed his hands that had turned green, lifting his head, trying to keep his facial expression unchanged.

The beach was reached.

...

The sky neared a deep blue, the bright moon hung high.

The sea tide surged, waves shimmered with the glow of starlight and moonlight.

The flame in the sandpit had long been extinguished, resembling a heap of black terrifying charcoal, two Canoes lifted by seawater lightly swayed.

The Indigenous youth and that skinny captive with darkened skin remained honestly standing under the tree's shade waiting.

Still dazed from the killings, Chen Zhou did not see the two when arriving near the shade, thinking they had taken the chance to escape, he even pulled out his revolver, intending a pursuit by night.

Fortunately, Lai Fu timely barked at the two beneath the tree, alerting him, allowing him to see them.

...

The clay pot still rested on the sand, its water already drunk dry.

The Indigenous youth cautiously held the remaining half piece of chocolate, tensely watching it melt from the high temperature, occasionally glancing at the forest, occasionally checking the companion beside him, looking especially bewildered.

The waiting time felt excessively long.

He recounted to his companion in detail how he survived the sacred ritual, traveled to the Celestial God's dwelling, witnessing the miracle of resurrection.

Due to lacking understanding of firearms, he supplemented many details during narration, further exaggerating the "Celestial God's" combat prowess.

In his narrated story, Chen Zhou didn't even need to raise the "thunderous weapon," but merely holding it, looking at the enemy; wherever his gaze reached, along with the rumble, those brave Indigenous Warriors fell one by one.

Effortlessly sweeping through all enemies, the "Celestial God" sprayed fire from his hand, igniting the Divine Fire.

He seemingly didn't favor these "sacrificial offerings," nor did he like the dance offered by opposing tribes, completely different from the "God" described by the Priest.

Of course, for these behaviors contrary to those described by the Priest, the youth had already given explanations.

He believed the Celestial God had his own food, entirely different from what they, the Indigenous, initially thought.

Such as the melting chocolate in his hand, he regarded it as food unique to the Celestial God, mentioning its sweet taste and ability to grant immense power.

And the water the Celestial God drank had the ability to resurrect.

As for the Celestial God himself, he possessed extraordinary might.

He appeared larger and more robust than any brave warrior, akin to a massive mountain, commanding reverence;

His expression always remained calm, face strikingly handsome, distinct from mere mortals;

He donned the armor of the Celestial Realm, invulnerable to blades or flames;

He nurtured a golden Divine Beast, with a necklace forged from human skulls and blood adorning the beast's neck;

He resided in an indestructible home made of stone, his dwelling constructed with transparent bricks created from dawn;

The Celestial God's weapon being a Long Spear made from a certain sturdy stone, longer and seemingly sharper than any Wooden Spear…

Regarding the Celestial God's bravery, his Divine Power, his authority, for the Indigenous youth, it was difficult to fully capture in words at that moment.