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As the voice - a furious growl - echoed through the entire altar, Baron Morgan and Asa the priest suddenly stopped their almost arrogant swaying movements. Their expressions changed from initial smugness to terror, as if the voice had awakened their deep-seated fears.
Without hesitation, Morgan viciously swung the sword in his hand, killing the desperate slave they had been continuously violating. Blood sprayed onto the stone slabs of the altar, leaving behind red marks that showed their ruthless actions.
Asa and Baron Morgan then walked over to Alan with lifeless eyes, but unusually swift steps. They seemed to be trying to pull Eilena out of the blood pool, as she was attempting to drown herself to preserve her last bit of purity.
Alan felt a pang in his heart, knowing he had to stop all of this. But his hands were bound with thick ropes, rendering him powerless to resist. Nevertheless, he didn't give up. Using the weight of his body and the elasticity of the ropes, Alan tried to crawl forward, using his own body as the only weapon available.
At the moment when Morgan and Asa the priest were about to touch Eilena, Alan finally managed to throw himself towards his sister. He felt his chest touch Eilena's weak body, and then with all his strength, he pressed her tightly into the pool of blood.
Alan dared not think about what his sister might be feeling. He only knew that this might be the only thing he could do, and it was the purest way he could protect her in the end.
His tears mingled with the blood in the pool, but his heart was filled with a kind of determination and calmness he had never experienced before. He lay firmly on top of his sister, Eilena, like a barrier of life. His clothes had been stained by the blood of countless slaves, but he didn't care.
Alan felt every muscle in his body convulsing in pain, every cell burning as if on fire. He lay on the ground, his face close to the cold stone, but there was no coolness there to soothe the burning in his heart.
His head felt like it was being crushed by a heavy weight, forcing him to endure endless humiliation and agony. But he knew that more important than this was his sister, Eilena, who lay beneath him, her body so weak that he could barely feel her presence.
Duke Morgan and Priest Asa stood by his side, their faces displaying cold and disdainful expressions. They kicked Alan in the side and back as if they were soulless dolls, each blow filled with anger and disgust, the force so great that Alan felt as if he were being struck by a heavy iron hammer.
Morgan Duke walked to the side of Alan and looked down at the angry but powerless young man. His foot slowly lifted and then forcefully stepped on the bones of Alan's hand. Alan heard a clear "crack" sound, the sound of his hand bones breaking, but he endured without letting himself scream.
"Look, this is the fate of people like you, lowly beings," Morgan sneered, his voice filled with a nauseating arrogance.
Asa walked to the other side of Alan, holding a delicate wooden staff with a sparkling gem embedded in its head. He swung the staff down heavily on Alan's back. Alan felt a sharp pain spreading through his body, as if thousands of needles were pricking his skin.
"Obstructing the will of God, you sinner!" Asa's eyes were like those of someone about to slaughter a pig, his face devoid of any expression.
But at this moment, a low and angry voice suddenly resounded throughout the entire temple. The voice seemed to come from the depths of hell, disturbing the minds of everyone.
Alan tasted the rusty taste in his mouth, and blood overflowed from the corners of his mouth. But he gritted his teeth, resisting the fading consciousness in front of him. He could feel Eilena's body temperature gradually dropping, a sign of life slipping away.
Alan is clear that if he gives up now, both he and his sister will become victims of this evil act. He will not let that happen, even if it takes his last bit of strength, he will not let his sister suffer any more harm.
"Two idiots, can't even kill a slave!"
Alan felt the cold body of his sister Eilena, his hands trembling uncontrollably, but tears could not stop flowing. His crying almost scared himself, it was a kind of unprecedented deep sorrow and anger that penetrated into his bones. In this dilapidated wooden room, apart from his heart-wrenching wails, there were also the blood and bodies of other slaves. Every drop of blood, every corpse, silently accused the injustice and cruelty of this world.
"Someone rejects my gift as the God of Happiness and dares to cry in front of me!" The voice spoke in anger, causing the entire temple to tremble with its fury.
Baron Morgan and Asa the priest are completely shrouded in fear at this moment. They are in front of the altar of the God of Happiness, bare-chested, constantly kowtowing. Their heads are bleeding from knocking heavily on the cold stone floor, mixing tears and sweat, creating a tragic scene.
Next to them, the Asa priest and Baron Morgan are naked, lying on the floor covered in blood and corpses, continuously apologizing. "God of Happiness, we did not mean to offend, please have mercy on us!"
Alan wiped away his tears and lifted himself off his sister Eilena, his face showing an incredible mix of emotions—crying and laughing intertwined.
"Who says God is all-powerful!" Alan mocked loudly, "God of Happiness, you can't even take away my sister, you useless being!"
However, at this moment, an untimely laughter rang out. The voice was loud and carried a sense of superiority that transcended the mundane - the laughter of the God of Happiness.
"Hahaha! This is extremely amusing! You mortals always entertain me so! It seems the upcoming drama will be even more exciting!"
Alan heard this laughter, and it seemed to enrage him to the extreme. He slowly lifted his head, his expression no longer one of sadness, but rather a kind of almost crazy, cold smile.
"God of Happiness, you worthless being, how dare you still laugh!" Alan sneered coldly, "You may be a god, but you can never take away my sister's soul!"
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