Becoming a God Starts with Acting-Chapter 473: Illusionary Dream

Matthew's powerful attack made the entire space tremble. At that very moment, a streak of light suddenly sliced through the smoke and dust, as if teleporting. In the blink of an eye, Silvanus had already appeared before Matthew at the speed of light—faster than Matthew could even blink.

Everything seemed to slow down. A spear of light cleaved down from above Matthew's head.

"Boom!"

A shield of darkness materialized, blocking the devastating strike. Visible cracks rapidly spread across its surface before it shattered into fragments. Though the shield existed for less than a second, it was enough to buy Matthew time to evade. He reappeared behind Silvanus, a massive scythe suddenly forming in his hand as he slashed directly toward him.

But Silvanus was even faster. In an instant, he shot high into the air. Before the colossal statue, the light radiating from him was far more dazzling than that decaying monument.

He raised his hand, and a sphere of light quickly took shape. Following Silvanus's motion, it plummeted violently toward the ground, like the descent of a god. Everything seemed to slow as the light spread across the entire grand hall, erupting into brilliant explosions filled with beautiful yet deadly colors.

"Boom! Boom! Bang! Bang! Crash!"

A continuous barrage of earth-shaking sounds rang out, completely collapsing the massive temple. The colossal statue dissolved into a heap of sludge, flowing across the ground. Deprived of its light, it resembled a deadly swamp. The radiance bursting from the center of the battle was so intense that it spread beyond the battlefield itself, causing the shadow creatures at the perimeter to scream in agony before turning to dust, their cries extinguished before they could fully echo.

A vast stretch of architecture was flattened in an instant, leaving behind only the hopeless howl of the wind cutting through the air.

As the light faded, a figure seemed to waver and rise from within the deep crater created by Silvanus's attack.

Matthew's pure white robe had been scorched black and reduced to ashes, leaving his body completely bare. His skin was charred, streaks of blood running across his body, his face twisted viciously by the burns.

Yet his expression was strangely at ease.

"Ha ha ha, ha ha ha… This light is truly wonderful, Silvanus. You wanted to kill me without the slightest hesitation!"

Silvanus looked down at the ground. There was no intense emotion in his eyes; he was merely stating a fact. "Didn't you also want to kill me, Matthew?"

Matthew froze for a moment, as if unable to believe Silvanus's words—then as if unable to believe his own thoughts.

A second ago, he had been laughing. Now he suddenly clutched his face and burst into tears, like a lost child who did not know which direction to follow.

"No, no, no! No! How could I possibly want to kill you, Silvanus?! How could I?!"

He kept muttering, "You're the most important person to me. How could I want to kill you?! It's definitely not me, it can't be me! It's the villain, it's that one, that monster that wants to kill you, Silvanus—it can't possibly be me!"

As he spoke, he failed to notice the transformation overtaking his own body.

Beneath his skin, his flesh writhed as though countless worms were squirming, desperate to burst free.

Then his flesh truly began to sag and rearrange itself, twisting into an utterly grotesque form.

It surged and swelled. Suddenly, he lifted his head—at that moment, he was nothing but a skull wrapped in blackened flesh. Below it, his body towered over ten meters tall, constructed from countless layers of flesh that formed distinct bundles of muscle.

Those muscle fibers continuously extended outward, swaying in the air and producing a chilling, whip-like cracking sound.

He laughed maniacally, his eyes like two bottomless pits fixed on Silvanus, devoid of any remaining emotion.

Silvanus narrowed his eyes at the sight and suddenly asked, "Matthew, are you still there?"

What answered him was a rasping sound like sand scraping across a desert, as if countless voices were speaking at once—piercing and grating to the ear. "He is dead. All your friends will die… because of you!"

In the next instant, he lunged straight at Silvanus. Though his body was enormous, his speed was not slow in the slightest—in fact, it was far faster than before.

"Boom!"

A thunderous explosion erupted midair, forming a vortex of energy that twisted tightly around the figures of Matthew and Silvanus, burying them within a vast sea of light.

What exactly was happening inside, no one could glimpse.

As for the battle outside, because of Matthew's earlier surge of power, it was clear that his subordinates had also received a significant boost in strength.

But Cain had already killed the saintess before she could receive that enhancement.

The grotesque head in his hand was crushed into a heap of lifeless, rotting flesh.

It could also be seen that the hem of his robe was torn in many places. At his waist was a gaping hole, blood still streaming down, along with a wound that ran from his thigh to his foot, so deep that bone was nearly exposed. Yet he seemed not to feel any pain. The moment he tossed the saintess's head aside, he immediately flew toward Dorian, whose holy light was on the verge of being completely engulfed by the Pope's mass of writhing flesh.

The Pope was like a bedbug—no matter how hard one tried, he could not be completely killed. Worse still, his flesh continued to divide and spread; wherever it reached, it devoured all life there, chewing it into nutrients to sustain himself. It was precisely for that reason that he was nearly impossible to destroy.

And the shadow creatures continuously emerging from the black hole were indeed a massive source of energy for that writhing mass of flesh.

Silvanus had to eliminate Matthew and close the black hole quickly. Otherwise, the situation would once again tip in the worst possible direction for them.

At the very center of the battlefield, where light and darkness intertwined into a bizarre spectacle that no one could glimpse—

Silvanus abruptly opened his eyes and found himself standing in an entirely different place.

Before he could react, a strong shove from behind made him stagger, nearly falling. The child who had bumped into him also wobbled and pitched forward.

Silvanus quickly regained his balance. The child glared at him and snapped, "Monster, don't block the way!"

Silvanus stared blankly at the child, then looked down at his own small, slightly dirty feet.

That's right… he was just a child in an ordinary, rundown orphanage. What had he been thinking about just now?

Something seemed to flash through Silvanus's mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not remember anything.

Seeing that Silvanus did not respond, the other child puffed himself up even more, showing off with a thoroughly practiced air of swagger.

Silvanus tilted his head slightly, his green eyes blinking as he looked at the child before him. Then, without the slightest hesitation, he clenched his fist and stepped forward, throwing a direct punch at the child's face.

The child clearly had not expected Silvanus to strike back. Besides, Silvanus looked so small and skinny—how could he possibly hit that hard?!

Under the child's stunned gaze, Silvanus's young yet remarkably firm voice rang out, "You're the one who ran into me. Don't you know how to apologize?"

Seeing Silvanus raise his fist again, the child immediately opened his mouth and burst into loud sobs. The crying was so booming and piercing that Silvanus felt as if the surrounding walls were trembling, dust falling from them. The child's mouth seemed to stretch wider and wider, like a wide-mouthed monster capable of swallowing everyone whole.

How strange.

The space around Silvanus seemed to twist into countless bizarre, winding curves that made one dizzy just looking at them.

Instinctively, Silvanus lifted his hand, wanting to touch them. But before his fingers could reach the boundary of this fairy-tale-like dreamscape, a ruler suddenly lashed down, striking his hand hard.