Deities: Starting From Goblins

Chapter 881: Chapter 513: The Great Desolation Stele_3

It seems that this is not a deity, just like Little Flower said—It’s a demon.

Logan did not expose everything, but he wanted to see what kind of waves this Peach Blossom Demon could stir up.

Fulfilling the instructions of the Saint, Logan knelt before the statue of the spirit.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze as piercing as a torch, firmly locking onto the majestic and solemn statue as if to etch every inch of its detail into his heart. The tumult in his eyes, like waves violently whipped up by a tempest, surged and undulated unpredictably, revealing the complex emotions deep within him.

In his hand, he tightly clutched the three sticks of incense, with wisps of smoke curling up from the tip, winding around his fingertips like wispy veils. It was as if the smoke whispered secrets to the air, secrets that defied simple expression, or perhaps, conveyed to the deity his innermost prayers.

“You only need to pour out your heart’s desires to the Deity, without any reservation, and then insert the incense back onto the incense burner in front of the Deity,” said the elder by his side, in a low and mysterious voice, as if guiding him through a sacred ritual.

...

However, a cold sneer welled up in Logan’s heart. He was well aware that this so-called act of devotion was nothing but a carefully orchestrated deception. That Peach Blossom Demon was probably hiding in the shadows, exchanging wishes with a human, secretly setting the stakes.

Logan took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and raised the three sticks of incense high. He silently spoke in his mind, his voice firm and indifferent, “Peach Blossom Demon, I warn you, you’d better tell me Little White’s position truthfully. If anything happens to her, I will tear you to pieces, and show no mercy.”

His words were not a provocation, but the most sincere warning from his heart. As soon as he finished speaking, the three sticks of incense that had been slowly burning abruptly went out, the trailing white smoke instantly disappearing as if devoured by an invisible force.

The monk was stunned at this occurrence, standing agape with trembling hands, unable to utter a single word.

“How could this happen, this has never happened before, could it be that your heart is insincere! Angering the Deity!”

The monk quickly found a reasonable explanation for this phenomenon and began to loudly berate Logan.

“If you are not here to sincerely seek the Deity, why enter our temple? We do not welcome you, nor do we need your incense money—get out, leave this place!”

No matter how the monk cursed, Logan stood unmoved, expressionless, holding the three sticks of incense in his hand.

“I state again, if you still refuse to disclose Little White’s whereabouts, then don’t blame me for being impolite,” Logan’s voice rang out clear and resolute this time, like metal striking stone, not only carrying a clear warning but also imbued with traces of spiritual power, so that all the monks in the temple could clearly hear his power-filled inquiry.

In an instant, the peach trees that had been swaying gently in the breeze, as if summoned by some mysterious power, started to shower their petals like rain, from a distance looking like a beautiful peach blossom rain had descended upon the world.

The monks, astounded by this sudden supernatural phenomenon, dropped what they were doing and knelt to the ground, reciting prayers, claiming that the Divine Spirit had manifested.

A wry smile appeared on Logan’s face. He had long since positioned his spiritual awareness in every corner of the temple, and nothing could escape his perception. He easily sensed that an additional figure—a captivating presence—had appeared beneath the Peach Blossom Tree.

No, it would be more precise to say that a bewitching spirit had appeared.

Without glancing up at the high platform, at the statue of the Peach Blossom Demon lavishly worshipped with countless offerings of incense, Logan walked straight towards the depths of the courtyard. After crossing the many kneeling monks, he finally saw that gentle-faced woman in pink, her long hair half-tied beneath the Peach Blossom Tree.

Logan took three steps in two strides, closing in quickly, but stopped two meters away from the Peach Blossom Demon. His gaze still as piercing, his voice still as cold as ice, he demanded, “Tell me, where is Little White?”

“So, you’ve decided to show your true self to meet me? Where is Little White?”

The woman placed her hand over her lips, barely covering half of her face.

However, this did not lessen the feeling of her beauty, rather it added a sense of allure as if shyly veiling a lute half-hidden.

“I really don’t know. Such a cute little fox, and you actually call her Little White. If it were me, I would definitely give her a much prettier name,” said the Peach Blossom Demon.

There was no malice in the demon’s words, but Logan was more concerned with where Little White had gone.