Chapter 427: Chapter 429: Ritual in the lee Chapter 427: Chapter 429: Ritual in the lee The ritual was disrupted.
When the Queen’s Guard, which had been in the cycle of reincarnation for half a century, suddenly broke the cycle, when the “Gate of Transformation” in the ritual hall was destroyed by the invaders, when a group of unknown people rushed into the hall—when the predestined sacrifice offered herself to the green flas in front of the Pool of Primordium, this lofty and ultimate ritual had already reached the point of no return.
Now, the heretics had stord in, savagely slaughtering the followers of The Saint and destroying decades of painstaking efforts.
“What have you done?!”
In the center of the pool, the leader of the heretics, resembling a blond young man, roared in fury. His body suddenly grew taller, supported by black mud, and transford into a swollen and terrifying giant. He swung his arm at Agatha, and nurous thorns and bone spurs rapidly grew from the pool, covering the sky as they surged towards the gatekeeper who still stood in the flas.
However, all attacks turned into ashes before they could touch Agatha’s body, instantly burned by the ghostly green flas. The strange flas then spread in reverse along the path of the ashes, gradually burning the symbols of sacrifice, profane items around the mud pool, and then spreading into the pool itself.
Agatha remained enveloped in flas, the Spiritual Fire blazing intensely from within her. Each wound on her body had turned into a channel from which flas surged, making it look as if flas had beco liquid, flowing through her veins—the intense pain of burning had faded away, and she laughed in the fire, lifted her head, and stared wildly at the frantic but impotent heretic, murmuring softly as if speaking to herself, “Ah… I understand now…”
The next second, her eyes were instantly consud by the Spiritual Fire. Fire spewed from the empty sockets, and with these burned-out “eyes,”, she looked around at the heretics causing massive chaos around the pool.
As her gaze swept over them, all the heretics started to burn, along with the demons symbiotically living with them. Every profane object in the hall turned into fuel for the flas, even the hall itself began to slowly exude the texture of flas.
The Usurping Fla granted her authority, and with the authority of fire, she ended the profanity here—this was the truth she saw from within the fire the instant her eyeballs were destroyed.
The heretic in the center of the mud was insignificant; he was rely a freak who had completed a transformation through self-sacrifice. What truly sustained the operations here were those ugly, deford heretics frantically screaming around the mud pool.
“Stop! Stop now! You have no idea what you’re doing! Losing control of the ritual benefits no one! It has already progressed to…”
The heretic leader, now transford into a swollen giant, scread in vain, continuously creating barriers in a futile attempt to resist the flas spreading throughout the hall. However, at that mont, a gunshot suddenly sounded from the side, interrupting his screams.
“Bang!”
A young soldier clad in a half-century-old military uniform, holding an old-fashioned rifle, charged in and fired at the malford giant in the center of the pool.
The brave soldier was engulfed by the surging black mud the next mont, but behind him, more soldiers were charging into the hall.
By this ti, the cycle of the “Counterattack Battle” by the Queen’s Guard should have passed, and these phantom soldiers should have vanished; however, it was evident the cycle had been altered by the destruction of the thorn gate—the Queen’s Guard, who should have disappeared at the next hour, had returned to this place and comnced their attack on this final hall.
Lawrence’s Marine squad was also engaged in fierce combat with nearby heretics and Profound Demons—their bullets were depleted, but they still had sharp scimitars and longswords, as well as bodies montarily fearless of death, thus facing dark high priests and demonic creatures, they held their own like Transcendents.
With a clink, Lawrence’s shortsword cut down a bone spur flying towards him, then he swiftly dodged a fireball that almost exploded on him. Stepping forward through the flas, he cut the chain behind a heretic’s neck, watching the dark priest’s body quickly turn into ash, then lifted his head to look at the long-haired woman standing in front of the mud pool, burning fiercely like a torch.
“Miss! We’re here to help!” the old captain shouted, “We’re all working for ‘the captain’, right?—Which ship are you from?”
He saw clearly, the young woman standing in the flas burned with the sa ghostly green flas as his, clearly one of their own. On the other hand, the color of the flas on the young woman was deeper, and the fire much larger, obviously, she was not just ordinary “one of their own.”
Large and green—she must be a significant figure under Captain Duncan.
Captain Lawrence, with his rich experience as an adventurer and captain, made a simple judgnt and decided it was prudent to greet a high-ranking future colleague.
Agatha looked in astonishnt at the burly old man shouting at her across the pool, dressed like a captain.
“What did you say?!” she couldn’t help but shout after two or three seconds, “It’s too noisy here, I can’t hear clearly!”
Lawrence paused, turned to his subordinates to confirm, “She responded, didn’t she?”
“I have no idea!” Subject 077 was the closest, yet he was shouting at the top of his lungs, his voice a mix of disarray and fear. He was jumping around amidst the flas that spread in all directions, desperately dodging bullets, fireballs, bone spurs, and even flying limbs and severed arms, his dual blades already nicked. “I’m a sailor! Why am I now in the sewers fighting for my life against a bunch of heretics—this is a job for the marines!”
“When you ca ashore, you weren’t so reluctant,” Lawrence shouted back, “You were excited like a pirate ready to plunder the City-State.”
“I told you, we aren’t pirates!”
“Then I appoint you as a marine.”
“Damn you—”
“Hmm?”
“Damn you…”
Agatha listened blankly to the bewildering exchange of shouts between the rude, robust sailors and their captain, staring at the utterly chaotic scene before her—
Who were these guys? Where did they co from? What were they doing?
She saw those strangers burning with the sa green flas as herself, while the heretics in the hall clashed with them. She also watched as a swarm of soldiers, resembling ancient ghosts, stord in and fired their weapons, occasionally chanting the na of the Frost Queen. Everything here was beyond her comprehension, as if…
as if her choice to self-sacrifice had completely changed the style of the world.
But soon, the howling wind by her ears interrupted her wild thoughts.
The swollen, deford giant bent down towards her.
“Everything… cannot be stopped…”
It bellowed, its body gushing uncontrollable, filthy black sludge. The once handso, blond young man’s appearance was long gone, replaced now by a frightful monster vaguely resembling a human silhouette.
Its torso was covered with crisscrossing mouths, the chilling friction and whispers between sharp teeth. Its head slowly cracked open in front of Agatha, the crevice filled with malicious eyes. The Pri Elent had completely corroded and replaced the monster’s once human body—it had beco part of that pool of mud, and perhaps… part of a much larger, more chaotic will.
The swollen giant stared intently at Agatha with its myriad of eyes. The mud around it had ignited, and the flas even burned up its body in reverse. Yet the monster seed to feel no pain, rely repeating over and over, “Cannot stop… Cannot stop… Error, error…”
“You’ve already failed,” Agatha raised her head, locking eyes with the monster. The flas flowing from her eyes warped the surrounding air. “You must feel it, the so-called ‘channel’ has been severed—the inverse process between the mirror and reality has stopped.”
“Stopped?” The monster seed montarily lucid after Agatha’s final words, resentnt belonging to a human reappearing in those mutated eyes, “Foolish… You think by sacrificing yourself… we have no other sacrifices?!”
Agatha paused.
The next second, she saw the giant suddenly raise its hands—its arms rapidly transford, growing and branching like cracked, dry twigs into vast thorny structures. They pierced the ceiling of the assembly hall and every nearby pipe, and between the thorns, faint flashes scurried quickly, resembling fireflies.
From within this “thorn bush,” ecstatic shouts erged—
“I see! I understand! I comprehend!
“What a glorious creation! What a magnificent blueprint! Oh most noble, most sacred Lord… I have grasped Your intent, I have grasped… Reshape this world, yes, reshape… All of us, along with everything in this world, will be reborn from the flesh of God—Believers, it’s ti for sacrifice!”
“It’s ti for sacrifice!”
As Agatha and Lawrence, leading the marine squad, watched in shock, all the remaining heretics in the hall began to cheer ecstatically. They appeared truly enlightened by so profound truth, and in the thunderous cheers, one after another they hurled themselves into the central pool of mud!
(I have a bold idea!)
Reviews
All reviews (0)