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M: TSIA Chapter 133: Divine Artifacts
🕑 Added 2025-04-01 13:19:03 +0000 UTCRandolph's expression turned serious, darker. "What do you want to do?"
Jacob looked at Randolph with wild eyes, then simply said, "Divine artifacts."
However, the man did not elaborate further. The woman beside Jacob, with a slender body full of determination, stepped forward. She raised her voice with deep hatred, "You coward! You run from the power of God. We will take over your power, become the new gods of the world, and create a new world order!"
"A new world order!"
"A new world order!" the cheers of their followers echoed, as if they had already decided that this new world belonged to them.
Randolph merely shook his head, his expression turning comical, as if what had just been said was nothing but a joke. "Immature humans," Randolph murmured softly.
Where Randolph looked at them with a blank stare. He hid his staff further away, trying not to be found. Yet, over a thousand years had passed, and there were still people searching for Randolph, even though he had worked hard to avoid them.
Jacob's group was neither the first nor the last. However, like waves continuously moving with the current of time, more and more people were captivated by the legend of Randolph that continued to spread on Earth. They followed in Randolph's footsteps, hoping to find the legendary creation of the God, which was said to carry them to the skies and make them new gods—something far greater than anything they could dream of.
Randolph, although respected by many, did not take these ambitious inhabitants of Earth too seriously. He regarded them merely as fleeting moments in time.
No matter how great their ambitions, in the end, they would only have a few decades to pursue their dreams, while Randolph could sit back, enjoy a cup of coffee, and watch time pass without feeling rushed.
Randolph knew for certain that one by one, these people would disappear into their graves—like sand eroded by the wind.
However, the loud shouts and fanatical cheers from this crowd eventually caught the attention of the priests practicing near the chapel. They, who preferred peace and tranquility, felt disturbed by the commotion surrounding them.
Seeing the crowd going wild in front of the chapel, the old priest frowned deeply with displeasure, then shouted loudly, his voice firm yet filled with despair: "Hey, what are you doing here? This is a place for meditation and prayer. If you want to worship, please go to the church!"
However, there was no pleasant response. One of them, with a face full of hatred, raised their voice: "Go to hell!"
Meanwhile, Jacob—who had long been known for his explosive temperament—stood tall, his eyes sharp and filled with rage. Whether Jacob was born with a quick temper or perhaps suffered from bipolar disorder that had taken control of him, in an instant, Jacob could transform into an unpredictable explosion of anger. Without hesitation, Jacob pulled a gun from beneath his cloak and swiftly pulled the trigger, shooting directly at the old priest.
"Don't!" Randolph shouted, his eyes widening as he tried to stop Jacob. However, the sound of the gunshot had already shattered the surrounding silence.
Strangely, the shot did not hit its target. The loud bang echoed, but it seemed as if some force was holding the bullet's trajectory. The old priest was momentarily startled, his eyes widening as he realized he had escaped the death threat. In confusion, the man quickly crawled away, as if his life were truly in danger.
"You foolish old man, you’re so lucky!" Jacob scoffed, though his expression showed no remorse. Jacob's team seemed not to care much about the failure. They were not sharpshooters, and this failure was not particularly surprising to them.
However, Randolph stood frozen, his face filled with shock and a hint of doubt. With the superhuman vision possessed by Asgardians, Randolph could clearly see all the movements around him, including the bullet's trajectory that was nearly invisible to the human eye. At first, Randolph thought the bullet had missed, but as time went on, he realized there was something more than mere coincidence.
The bullet, although it appeared to be heading straight for the old priest, suddenly vanished before it could hit its mark. Another trace appeared so quickly, crossing the bullet's path and perfectly turning it into fine dust, as if an invisible force had saved the priest.
What is that...? Randolph wondered to himself, sensing that something was amiss.
...
...
...
"God, grant me Your strength!" Jacob shouted in desperation.
With eyes filled with hatred, Jacob aimed his gun directly at Randolph.
A group of fanatical "believers" spread out, forming a fan-like formation, each brandishing weapons: pistols, rifles, machetes, chainsaws. Every movement they made was filled with a chilling arrogance, accompanied by a madness clearly visible in their eyes.
Randolph merely stared at them with a thin smile, but the smoldering anger within him made him laugh loudly. "You call me God, but do you think these weapons can conquer me?"
"NO!" Jacob replied, his voice filled with deep hatred. Jacob's eyes shone with indescribable passion. With a single motion, Jacob raised his fist into the air and provocatively saluted, as if challenging fate. "But I know from my ancestors' records that if you lose that artifact, you will lose most of your divine power..."
With a booming voice, Jacob shouted, "We will not give you the chance to obtain that artifact!"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The loud sound of gunfire filled the air, as if the world was jolted by uncontrollable rage. Several armed individuals fired their weapons simultaneously, creating a roaring destruction.
The bullets sounded like popcorn hitting Randolph's body, but even so, they merely tore through the clothes he wore.
With a body made of Asgardian strength far greater than an ordinary human, Randolph appeared unscathed, even though the bullets left marks on his sturdy frame. Even the strongest steel can be forged into brittle forms, but Randolph's body was like an impenetrable wall.
However, Randolph, who had not fought in a long time, had long since left his fighting skills behind. These shots were more than enough to make him retreat, even though it was clear that these attackers were weaker than him.
