Eternal Church Holy Land, Immortal Church Dungeon.
Knight Marion moved silently in the shadows. The place was heavily guarded that not even Eugene dared to infiltrate recklessly. She could undertake this mission only because she possessed two innate skills: "Dark Stealth" and "War Intuition".
The sacrifices were kept in the deepest darkness, having been fed honey and oil in advance and cast with a sleeping curse. They were lying there as orderly as corpses, only their shallow breathing remained in the night, quieter than lambs awaiting slaughter.
Using her dark vision, Marion looked at them sadly.
She couldn't save everyone—to gather as much information as possible about the Oracle Sacrifice, the altar must be drenched in the blood of the sacrifices. If she were to let them go, it would certainly alarm the enemy.
She could only take one person with her, Sister Fischer, who was from the same school as her.
Marion checked each cell but still couldn't find the young nun among the people.
Suddenly, Marion's eyes lit up with a white glow, her "War Intuition" quickly warning her. Marion immediately disappeared into the darkness, returning to her original cell.
Damn it. If she couldn't find her target, she would have to resort to the backup plan.
Which was, Sister Holly sneaking in with her two students and swapping out three innocent people, then personally searching for Sister Fischer. What she needed to do at that time was ensure their safe evacuation once they found the target.
Knight Eugene had advised against it, believing it unnecessary for all three to infiltrate—especially since the two young nuns were too young—but was sternly refused by Sister Holly.
"Mr. Eugene, you believe that Investigation Knights are more willing to sacrifice for God, and knights should devote themselves to protecting the people. Similarly, we are more willing to give everything to God than innocent people who are pure and ignorant. Even if it's just for three people, it's worth it."
Sister Holly said devoutly, "My children and I are already prepared."
Eugene had no reply, only to agree, but he made a condition—he also wanted to blend in with the sacrifices, to better investigate and protect the nuns more properly.
…If only she could find Miss Fischer first, no one would have to take the risk, Marion thought anxiously in her cell.
Time is running out.
...
Sister Fischer—no, High Priest Fischer—was sitting in his luxurious room, bitterly communicating with someone.
"I will try to move the followers from the west of the city." Fischer pinched the bridge of his nose hard. "I can't guarantee the outcome. If it's too obvious, it will definitely arouse suspicion."
"Just move some people. That's enough." From the other side of the communication crystal, Painter smiled. "More importantly—"
Fischer interrupted him coldly, "Have some dignity, Painter. My personal funds aren't your money bag. Asking for three thousand gold wheels as soon as you open your mouth, do you want to bathe in gold coins?"
"The famous leader of the Drifting Mercenary Group, do you really think I believe you're broke just because you dress shabbily?"
"Calm down, sir. Anger is bad for your health." Painter's tone was smooth. "It was Mr. Mad Monk who specifically requested this. I'm just the messenger."
"Is three thousand gold wheels enough?" Fischer's tone brightened in an instant.
"Of course! Oh, remember, I need two thousand in cash and one thousand in gems," Painter responded with a smile. "The sooner, the better."
"An hour. Give me a location."
"You're so straightforward!"
"But I still have to ask. Painter, where is this money going? The Eternal Church is always watching the market. In case they notice something…"
"No worries, no worries. Just buying some very ordinary things. You have to have confidence in those two."
Painter smiled, looking out the window, where snow piled up to the height of a palm. A plump bird jumped from a branch, causing the snow to fall in a flurry.
Soon after, in a certain snowfield.
"You're truly evil."
In the cold wind, the slender Sister Teesti made a praying gesture, her long hair gently fluttering in the wind. Her expression was pitiful, and her tone innocent and sad—Nol had to admit, if it weren't for the blood-stained golden threads between his fingers, the scene would be quite beautiful.
"I'm not interested in crushing the weak, but this is the first time I've received a slaughter order from you. Ah, this day has come sooner than I expected."
Teest theatrically lifted his skirt, stepping over bodies steaming with warmth.
Fresh organs fell onto the snow, quickly freezing. Pairs of cloudy eyes were wide open as snowflakes continued to gently fall on them. Everything happened so fast that their owners didn't even know what was happening until they were dead.
"Actually, you could do it yourself, couldn't you? You just want to see bloodshed, Lord Nol."
The Mad Monk, wearing his young shell, stopped a few steps from Nol.
"…Have you had your fun?" Nol rubbed his temples helplessly.
Teest hopped about in the blood-stained snow, clearly having pent-up aggression these days. His desire to perform had increased by fifty percent.
At this moment, around them lay a thousand plump meat sheep.
These sheep were from Sheepskin Ball Village at the foot of the snowy mountains. They were good quality and quickly delivered—Nol went as a merchant in disguise, and just in case, he drenched himself in pungent cologne.
Nol offered a buying price slightly above the market rate under the guise of "urgent need", spending a total of two thousand gold wheels. The deal made the village chief so happy, he nearly took off like a propeller.
Then, they drove the sheep to an uninhabited snowfield, where the Mad Monk neatly dealt with them.
Actually, this wasn't a good choice, as the extreme cold damaged the quality of the blood and meat. But with the Temple watching closely, he could only transport within the territory of Gratice.
"We can make pepper mutton bone soup tonight." Teest stretched his body. "Pity the meat has another use… Ah, you're truly an evil genius. I've never thought of such a novel way of desecration!"
"Thank you." Nol clapped his hands. "A Demon King must look the part."
At Nol's summon, skeletons climbed out from the snow, standing blankly in place—they were just the lowest level of skeleton foot soldiers and Nol could summon thousands of them.
This time, the skeletons had a special task.
Nol waved his staff, and blue fire traced a path through the air. The flesh and fur of the sheep carcasses slowly wriggled, leaving their original skeletons to cover the bare skeletons, gradually shaping into thin, blank-eyed "humans".
White sheep wool interlinked, concentrating at the top of the head, changing into different colors. Excess wool wove itself into fabric, covering the "humans'" private parts—though under the fabric, there was actually nothing.
In less than ten minutes, only clean white snow and white sheep bones remained. Hundreds of pale humans stood on the snowfield with unblinking eyes and horizontal pupils.
Marion said that the Church's sacrifices would be hypnotized throughout, so as long as they kept their eyes closed, it should be fine. Nol put away his staff—his workload was already big enough, so he would bluff his way through unseen parts.
After all, when it was time to secretly swap out the sacrifices, he still had to fine-tune the appearance of these "people".
The skeleton foot soldiers suddenly acquired an additional layer of "clothing". Some wandered around curiously, many even rotating their heads 180 degrees to admire their flesh-enriched backs.
"The meat is a bit of a waste."
Teest, twirling the golden thread, looked sorrowfully at the "fake people" nearby. "Now that they've become like this, I don't feel like eating them anymore… Honey, that meat was very good. I hardly smelled any mutton odor."
"Trading it for some lives is still worth it," Nol said.
"It seems you can't be said to be absolutely just either." Teest laughed. "Lord of Creation, who favors humans—"
"No, I'm just a normal person."
Nol, holding a sheep skull in both hands, added a touch of self-mockery to his tone. "I'm full of personal desires. You should know that best, dear."
He emphasized the last word with a slow, suggestive enunciation.
Teest snapped his mouth shut, swallowing the joke he was about to make along with the cold air.
Nol rarely called him that. A warmth flushed through Teest's nape for a moment, as if a warm blade skimmed his skin.
"Um, actually, I'm not that clear on it."
After a few seconds of silence, Teest bent down with a smile to pick up the bones for stew. "So, you'll have to favor me a bit more, Husband."
Now it was Nol's turn to be taken aback.
He dropped the sheep skull and quickly turned around, casting [Ash Remnants] on the "fake people" scattered on the ground to maintain their body temperature, breathing, and heartbeat.
Mr. Demon King's ears were even redder than before. Teest was willing to bet ten gold wheels that it had little to do with the cold here.
...
Several days later, one night.
With Marion and Eugene's full support, Nol finally managed to enter the sacrificial dungeon as he wished. Fortunately, infiltrating was much easier than escaping. Perhaps the Eternal Church never imagined that someone would be so eager to become a sacrifice.
Eugene went to the male prisoners' side. The three "nuns" followed Marion, looking for people on the female prisoners' side.
Of course, they all knew that dear Sister Fischer was sitting in the High Priest's chair, busy preparing for the sacrifice. If they didn't infiltrate in time, the Age Reversion blood potion would lose its effect—on Fischer's territory, it was easier to replenish.
When Mr. Fischer personally came to deliver the medicine, he witnessed a scene that was… not sure whether to call it eerie or spectacular.
Painter released dream magic, causing Knight Marion to fall deeply asleep, probably dreaming that "she was still awake". Nol was making rifts in the darkness—
Snowflakes fluttered beyond the space.
Nol dragged the fake people from the snowfield, while Teest adjusted their facial features, magically changed their clothes, and laid them flat on the ground.
Warmth came from the fireplace beyond the space.
The replaced ones, wearing wool undergarments, were sent to a large room behind the fire circle, where someone would soon come to receive them. Fischer probably knew what Painter wanted those gems for. Gratice never lacked smugglers, and gems were much more useful than gold for buying passage.
The Drifting Mercenary Group had excellent connections, Fischer smirked.
Both took a gulp of the replenishing blood potion, busy and bustling.
The Eternal Church's precious sacrifices were one by one replaced with—Fischer wasn't sure what those things were, but he felt they weren't human—very similar counterfeits.
"My Lord, if impure blood is used for the sacrifice, the sacrifice may not be able to continue successfully." Fischer pleaded earnestly. "I don't know what you two have swapped in, but surely it can't just be any material."
"It's fine. Just cause some commotion when the time comes."
Nol wiped the sweat from his face and dragged over another fake person. He straightened the other's twisted neck from the back of the head, arranged the distorted limbs, and then handed it over to Teest for face sculpting.
"But…"
Fischer glanced again at the "fake person" on the ground. Its facial muscles twisted into a half-smile, its horizontal pupils rolling chaotically, making him, a former Eternalist, quite uncomfortable.
'Too creepy,' Fischer thought, glancing at Nol. 'Truly worthy of being followed by my God.'
"If my honey says it's fine, then it must be fine." Teest was shaping the thing's facial muscles. "He wouldn't lie about something like this."
"Yes." Fischer quickly bowed his head.
He glanced at Painter nearby—the former pope was focused on the ceiling, as if a beautiful masterpiece had suddenly appeared there.
Presumably, he couldn't bear to directly witness the eerie scene before him, and Fischer felt somewhat relieved.
"That dog-headed knight." He reported earnestly, "He's been circling around the church recently, waiting for you to take me out. If this continues, he's very likely to be regarded as an enemy of the Church, and his life will be in danger."
"Forget it. Let your confidant handle it. Seeing us, Mr. Saint Bernard should be calmer." Nol sighed.
They had spent hours on mental preparation in advance but couldn't overcome the dog-headed knight's stubbornness. He insisted on seeing them with his own eyes. Fortunately, the Oracle Sacrifice was managed by Fischer, so Knight Saint Bernard should be in good hands.
'As long as he's kept out of the center of events,' Nol thought.
The next day, the sacrificial event officially began.
The Eternal Church's convoy assembled in the center of the cathedral. Black carriages drawn by blindfolded horses whose mouths were stuffed with blue fluorescent lilies stood motionless, quiet as corpses.
In front of the horses wasn't a door, but a sloping passage leading underground. This passage could only be opened with the Pope and the auxiliary High Priest present. For the Temple, where this passage led remained a mystery.
At this moment, only pure darkness lay ahead of the convoy.
The sacrifices were loaded into the prepared carriages one by one, suppressed by layers of magical arrays, ready to be transported to the altar. However, when it came to loading Knight Marion and Knight Eugene, an unexpected change occurred.
"Stop."
The masked High Priest approached, casually pointing out Marion and Eugene. A majestic and deep voice came from behind the mask. "The aura of these two is wrong… They're not weak enough. What's going on?"
While asking "what's going on," his killing intent had already leaked out. Two deadly curses shot towards Eugene and Marion, who nearly instantly sprang up to dodge the deadly moves.
"So we have rats," the High Priest said contemptuously, casually waving his hand, and dozens of black light balls appeared in the air, smashing towards the two knights.
At the same time, the surrounding guards also made their moves. Eugene clenched his teeth. "Retreat!"
The mission started off on the wrong foot.
Eugene couldn't understand—they had made their disguise perfect, yet the High Priest still spotted something amiss. Theoretically, "Eye of the Storm" wasn't so adept at combat. He wasn't supposed to have such high-level combat intuition.
Were the three nuns not discovered because they were too weak? At this point, with limited equipment, they really couldn't abduct someone from the Eternal Church's headquarters… Direct infiltration was indeed too risky. They needed to think of another way…
Seeing the two Investigation Knights decisively retreat, the priests present all breathed a sigh of relief.
One of them saluted Fischer. "We were almost deceived by the despicable people of the Temple. Fortunately, you personally inspected the sacrifices. His Holiness, the Pope, will surely be moved by your loyalty."
High Priest Fischer chuckled mysteriously. "It's all arranged by my God."
Well, to be honest, he didn't actually notice anything unusual. Eugene truly lived up to being one of the strongest Chosen Ones of the Temple. But it didn't matter. He already knew the correct answer beforehand.
By the way, among this batch of sacrifices, not a single real one was present. Through the holes in his mask, Fischer looked sympathetically at the other priests.
Finally, his gaze landed on the Pope's carriage.
The Pope stood by the carriage, calmly observing everything. This guy had ruled the Church for over a hundred years yet looked to be around sixty years old.
The old Pope's face was gaunt, still showing his handsome features from his youth. From his head protruded a pair of spiraling, twisted black goat horns, with ancient silver chains and black veils hanging from the tips, conveniently covering the upper half of his face.
Above the black veil, the emblem of the Eternal Son was embroidered with silver thread—two circular arcs intersecting, symmetric full moons above and below. The overlapping part in the middle resembled an eye without a pupil.
A tangible scrutiny came from beneath the black veil, and Fischer humbly bowed his head, drawing a circle over his chest.
The Supplement Demon Goat Gregori Gilmore, the Pope.
The Demon Goat symbolized misfortune and curse, adept in black magic and evil sacrifices. In terms of monster strength, it was considered above average.
Once the Supplement Demon integrated, it was hard to change. It was an existence that defied common sense and creating an "artificial chimera" was even more fantastical. Supplement Demons could only increase various attributes or skills of similar monsters by consuming Supplement Potions after their integration.
The problem was, this old Pope had lived too long—
With accumulation over time, this old bag's attributes were definitely terrifying. Facing the old Pope, High Priest Fischer had no intention of challenging him.
But his incapability didn't mean his God was incapable.
Fischer withdrew his gaze, his lips curling slightly behind his mask.
Inside the sacrificial carriage.
[The carriage is moving.] Nol curiously looked around. [We are going downwards.]
[Indeed.] In the cramped carriage, Teest lay on top of Nol, the two forming a perfect cross.
Painter looked at the two young men in front of him, who were obviously communicating through some method he was unaware of, with resigned amusement.
The journey was boring, and the former Pope had quite a few things he wanted to discuss, but with listening magic all around, he could only sulk in silence.
Watching Mr. Painter visibly wilt, Nol thought for a moment and reached into Teest's pouch with his hand, pulling out his own pen and paper.
Please, he signaled Painter with his eyes.
[Actually, it's nothing major. Judging by the reactions outside, Eugene and Marion escaped successfully. Even with the old Pope present, with Eugene's level, he wouldn't be quietly captured.] Painter wrote fluently. [I'm just a bit bored, but thanks for your concern.]
[You're quite noisy with just a pen and paper.] Teest scribbled on the paper.
[Thank you for the compliment.] Painter wrote modestly. [Did you two bring any food? I'm a bit hungry.]
Teest: [We only have mutton soup, mutton pies, and lamb ribs.]
Painter glanced at the two with a complex look, then at the "people" sprawled around.
[I guess I'm not that hungry.] He wrote resignedly.
After a long darkness, the carriage slightly trembled, and the glow of a large teleportation array lit up from outside.
With the incoming light, Painter looked meaningfully at Teest, then grabbed the pen. [This journey will take a while. Do you want to hear an interesting story?]
[We're not really nuns…] Teest began to write.
[Yes!] Nol wrote.
Teest silently crossed out the unfinished sentence, pretending nothing happened.
Painter smiled slightly as his pen touched the paper.
...
Meanwhile, in the best room of the inn in Ice Rock City.
The blizzard unusually ceased, revealing a sky so clear it took one's breath away. Even during the day, a hint of the moon's remnant could be seen.
"Sir, our capabilities are limited. We really couldn't find any trace of Drake and his party," a middle-aged man dressed as a butler reported.
"It's as I expected. It's not your fault. Even the Investigation Knights haven't found them."
Golden Sword Enbillick Alva shook his head, relaxing against the armchair. "Any other news?"
"In the vicinity of the Immortal Church, Eugene Malloy and his subordinates were suspected to be found, and relevant personnel are further confirming," the man continued to report.
"Good news." Enbillick stood up, stretching his shoulders and neck. "Once their identities are confirmed, keep a close eye on that gentleman in secret, and have someone prepare the best carriage and horses."
"What about Drake and his party…?"
"Considering the time, the Eternal Church's Oracle Sacrifice is about to start." Enbillick crouched in front of the fireplace, leisurely warming himself. "With our Captain of the Fifth Brigade appearing here, and so urgently that you guys noticed, it seems the sacrificial procession is about to depart."
"This year is special. The Eternal Church is unlikely to take the water route, which makes it easier to intervene. Would our Mr. Drake miss such an event? …Even if he wanted to, fate wouldn't allow it."
The middle-aged man paused. "Do you have other intelligence…"
"Just intuition."
Enbillick poked the dancing flames with his fingertip. "Ah, by the way, when you go out later, help me send a package home—Mo and Col love the mutton here. If I don't buy some to take back, they're definitely going to cry."
"Yes!"