"The Rose School of Thought followers who believe in the Primordial Moon have completely gone mad, just like puppets who have lost their souls."
"If not for the Pale Emperor leaving me a life-saving method in the Underworld before, allowing me to escape, I'm afraid I would have also become one of those disgusting and terrifying Monsters."
Arsas Eggers's eyes grew increasingly bloodshot, as if recalling a certain memory in his mind would intensify the invisible corruption.
Bernadette glanced at Arsas Eggers, whose aura had begun to destabilize again. Her right arm dematerialized into complex streams of information that surged into the Ferryman's glabella, which also symbolized the location of the Underworld within his body.
It wasn't until Bernadette completely peeled away the memory containing the corruption that Arsas Eggers gradually returned to normal, and Aaron was also able to glimpse that memory.
Within the deep fissure, the massive cloth puppet, entangled with brown branches, had most of its body completely covered in red fissures, like blood-colored eyes peering out, filled with pure malice.
The source of the crimson moonlight illuminating the entire deep valley was two Tarot cards, those two feminized portraits of Roselle, appearing even more demonic under the crimson light, carrying an indescribable sense of horror.
The "Mother" card and the "Moon" card!
-----------------
At the southernmost tip of the Southern Continent, in the East Balam indigenous area, spanning hundreds of kilometers, lay the Abyss of Ferrying, shrouded in black mist.
A grey-robed woman with distinct Balam features stood above the black mist, her lifeless grey eyes gazing at the one-armed man opposite her as she spoke indifferently:
"Ince Zangwill, please follow me to see the Great High Priest."
She was Great High Priest Haiter's spokesperson, Flora Tristan, a Sequence 3 Ferryman, and now the true influential figure of the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death faction.
Withdrawing his gaze from the boundless black mist, "Ince Zangwill" chuckled, his sarcastic voice filled with undisguised mockery:
"If I recall correctly, during the Fourth Epoch, this place should have been the intersection of the Underworld and reality. Tsk tsk tsk, how did it become like this now?"
"Also, I prefer you call me, the great God of War."
Two bloody gashes suddenly appeared on both sides of Ince Zangwill's cheeks, his mouth opening and closing like a maw, revealing two rows of illusory white teeth inside, while simultaneously emitting two identical sounds of disdain:
"Bah! God of War? Do you even deserve that title now?"
Before these two could continue their mockery, the Red Angel raised a hand to caress his face, observing the indifferent Flora Tristan with interest, licking his lips:
"A complete and stable internal Underworld, truly tempting...."
Flora Tristan's eyes flickered with cold light, as if recalling Haiter's instructions, and she turned silently, walking towards the black mist.
White feathers stained with pale yellow grease grew from her back, and an ancient token from the Balam Empire period appeared in her hand as she vanished into the eerie black smoke.
"Even with divinity, women's tempers are still so strange. Oh, I almost forgot, you two should have more to say about that."
The Red Angel wore an extremely punchable expression, listening to Sauron and Einhorn's roars from within his internal Underworld, and followed Flora Tristan into the deepest part of the black mist.
As he went deeper, he absorbed the soul-decaying Death aura from the black mist, and soon arrived at an exceptionally massive, entirely black mausoleum, inverted and embedded in the ground, like an overturned pyramid.
Surrounding this mausoleum was an even larger city with distinct ancient Balam Empire characteristics. Ghost fires flickered throughout the city, with pale lights replacing the Sun everywhere.
The city was divided into two parts by a black river. Walking the streets were not only living people, but also rotting corpses, and countless vengeful spirits and phantoms.
This was the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death faction's base camp—Manuel, where the "City of the Living" and the "City of the Dead" faced each other across the river, forming a complete cycle of life and Death.
Standing at the very top of this eerie city, the Red Angel Evil Spirit clicked his tongue:
"I was wondering why Haiter turned this place into such a state. Heh, it turns out it was for him to advance to Pale Emperor."
"However, it seems he not only failed but also suffered severe backlash. Tsk, to survive even that, he truly has a strong life."
After speaking, he looked at Flora Tristan, who was unmoved by his mockery. The Red Angel Evil Spirit felt bored, waved his hand, and shrugged:
"You don't have to look at me like that. I'm not interested in these weak souls. I've already sensed Haiter's aura. You don't need to follow me any further."
Before Flora Tristan could refuse, a pure white quill appeared in Ince Zangwill's hand, and he leaped into the Styx River that traversed the city, entering the mausoleum.
With the help of 0-08, the Red Angel Evil Spirit quickly arrived at the deepest part of the mausoleum, observing his surroundings with interest.
Within the boundless black mist, deep, dense, eerie, and chilling, there seemed to be nearly illusory black tubes extending out, eventually disappearing into a black coffin surrounded by various skulls not far away.
As if sensing the Red Angel Evil Spirit's arrival, the various skulls around the deep black coffin gradually took on a layer of eerie green, which blended with their original white, creating an extremely chilling sensation.
A voice seemingly from the Underworld emanated from within the coffin. The skulls floated up one by one, as if they had gained their own vitality.
Then, in chaotic order, they plunged into the heavy, paint black coffin, passing through the lid as if without substance, and entering inside.
The coffin immediately transformed into a deep, insatiable vortex, expanding in place and emitting a cold, chilling aura.
Pushed back a few steps by the aura of the Death Consul, the Red Angel Evil Spirit maintained his smile:
"It's truly exciting to see an old friend after a millennium, but it seems your so-called Artificial Death plan isn't going smoothly."
"Hmm, if you're willing to provide me with an Undying, I might consider giving you a little help."
As he spoke, the fissures on his face once again uncontrollably widened, and Sauron and Einhorn's almost identical voices emanated from them:
"And if you can help me separate from these two disgusting fellows, I can promise an additional generous reward to the Numinous Episcopate!"
From within the deep vortex formed by the black coffin, an ancient, cold voice, one that seemed to make one's soul directly detach from their body, emerged:
"I cannot do these things yet, but if I can obtain the grace of God, your requests will not be a problem."