Chapter 332: 330, Lullaby
Sacrifices always have sothing to do with religion.
Whether it’s the sacrifice of livestock or of living humans, both carry a strong sense of ritual.
And in the oldest of legends, sacrifices were actually trades made with certain entities.
In return for a sacrifice, a boon would be granted.
Those so-called entities were bizarre and nurous, anything was possible.
The Veda Sect’s sacrificial ceremony used the blood relatives of those who had died on Elm Street as diums; their blood poured under that withered banyan tree quickly soaked a large patch of ground.
Even though the surroundings were lit by torches, the ground didn’t seem red but instead faintly black.
The scene was bloody yet carried with it a taboo sense of horror.
The cultists, one after another, had their arms slit open by Aika, the archbishop of the Veda Sect.
When the ti reached 4 o’clock in the morning,
all the cultists who had participated in the sacrifice knelt on the ground, muttering in their mouths indecipherable and difficult phrases.
The sound was very strange, like a dialect that had long been lost in the river of history.
But they repeated only a few sentences over and over.
Aika and the two other archbishops watched this scene, and together they stretched out their hands and shouted, “Praise Veda…”
The sense of ritual was very powerful.
Gradually, mist also began to slowly appear in the surroundings.
Murky and dim.
mber of the Vanity Sect, rcer, watched this scene and pulled out a red short flute from within the broad sleeves of his garnt.
The entire short flute was of a primitive design, and perhaps because it had existed for so long, many parts were peeling, leaving only so blurred patterns to proclaim its once extraordinary nature.
It was a work of art.
It was also the instrunt rcer had previously ntioned.
“It’s starting…”
With a voice that was elusive, rcer held the flute to his lips.
But in fact, he was wearing a mask, with everything but his eyes covered, making it impossible to actually play.
Yet, as if oblivious to this, he mid the act of playing.
His fingers also moved rhythmically from ti to ti.
It looked very much like a musician performing the most exquisite piece of music.
But in reality, no sound emanated at all.
For a mont, aside from the low chanting of the cultists, the atmosphere was bizarrely terrifying.
…
Outside the amusent park.
Du Wei watched this scene on the screen, his expression growing colder.
He had encountered too many Evil Spirits.
Even through the screen, he could see that sothing was off.
He noticed, as rcer began to play the flute, the mist on the wasteland began to spread and subtly converge towards the dead banyan tree.
At this ti, the moon hung high in the night sky.
The pale moonlight cast on the old signboard of the banyan tree flickered with an unusual color.
“Is the ritual about to succeed?”
Du Wei furrowed his brow and muttered.
This comnt caused Tom, who was nearby, to respond with incredulity, “The ritual succeeding? But I haven’t seen anything at all?”
Tom was an ordinary person, his dealings with Evil Spirit events were always the aftermath.
As a result, his instincts were relatively dull.
As he spoke, Tom continued to stare intently at the cultists on the screen without pausing.
Hm… they all had pretty good figures.
Du Wei motioned to Tom with a shushing gesture, signaling him to not disturb him, and then turned his attention back to the dead banyan tree.
If that thing was the dium behind the encounters on Elm Street,
then the disturbance would probably start with it.
He wasn’t wrong in his analysis.
Because soon, the mist, like leeches sniffing blood, gathered towards the banyan tree with increasing speed.
It even ford a visible vortex of fog.
The blood on the ground also underwent strange changes.
Gulp…
Bubbles began to rise from the blood.
Like water beginning to boil.
Consequently, the fog took on a tinge of bright red…
Gradually, the entire dead banyan tree was enshrouded in a layer of blood, from the bark to the branches, slowly being wrapped in the fog.
At first, one could still discern its vague outline.
But in the end, the whole withered tree rged with the fog and disappeared from the screen.
That wasn’t even the main point.
The fog swept up many of the Veda Sect’s cultists…
And then, they were gone without a trace…
Du Wei’s face suddenly turned grim.
“A sacrifice, huh… But why their people? It shouldn’t be…”
The doctrine of the Veda Sect was extrely bloodthirsty; they never considered ordinary people as their kind.
And ordinary cultists, in reality, were no different from ordinary people.
By that logic, sacrificing a cultist of the Veda Sect was no different from sacrificing an ordinary person.
The forr needed to grow their ranks, while the latter were ubiquitous.
Sothing was off…
Du Wei quickly said to Tom, “Now, I need you to contact the police in Poland City. If they’re reliable, look into the cultists at the amusent park. I want to know their identities.”
By this ti, the fog was about to reach the dozen or so cultists who had been planted with caras and listening devices.
Even if those cultists were still alive, the signal was already experiencing interference, causing the image to beco sowhat frozen and distorted.
Tom also realized the gravity of the situation and solemnly said, “I’ll check right now.”
As he spoke, he walked to one side, took out a satellite phone, and dialed an internal police number…
Du Wei nodded and pulled his backpack forward with his right hand.
He planned to thwart the Veda Sect’s plan.
It wasn’t to save the cultists, but because he didn’t want the ceremony to succeed.
Otherwise, once Elm Street appeared in the human world, the Veda Sect’s mbers would definitely enter and find that piano.
By then, Du Wei’s trip to Poland would have been utterly aningless.
He unzipped his backpack.
Inside was the mask.
By making a wish with the Joker Card while wearing the mask, not even twenty years of the Veda Sect’s planning could prevent its failure.
And for Du Wei, that posed no psychological burden whatsoever.
But…
Just as Du Wei was about to put on the mask, a pleasant piano sound accompanied by the sound of a flute suddenly ca through his earpiece.
The piano sound was crisp, as if played right beside his ear, clear and lodious.
It was a lullaby…
The flute sound was long and lodious as well.
Initially, Du Wei thought it was just an accompanint, but when the rhythm of the flute matched the piano…
He realized that the flute was playing the very sa lullaby…
Du Wei narrowed his eyes and slowly placed the mask onto his face, while his other hand pulled a Joker Card from his wallet in his pocket.
At the sa ti, his gaze was fixed on the screen.
In the image, rcer had reached the position where the banyan tree once stood, continuously playing the flute…
But the sound of the flute appeared together with the piano.
The forr seed to be beckoning the latter to appear.
Suddenly…
The image flickered wildly, blurring.
Du Wei’s pupils shrank sharply…
He saw in the fog the outline of a person sitting before a grand piano, fingers deftly striking the keys…
No…
It couldn’t be considered both hands, for one of the person’s hands was excessively long and sharp, as though wearing a gauntlet made of steel…
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