am-books Chapter 609: The Ritual
Chapter 609: The Ritual
Chapter 609: The Ritual
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Richard took his position just beneath the ornate, raised platform, standing closely next to the mysterious artifact known as the Skull of Dreams. With rapt attention, he watched every unfolding event. Around him, attendees exuded an air of calmness, but beneath this tranquil exterior, there was a discernible sense of expectation and tension.
Stepping forward for presentation were two elves: a male and a female. Their attire was notably distressed, showing evident signs of wear, tear, and neglect. Hidden beneath their raggedy clothing, their skins were etched with a multitude of scars each a painful reminder of the relentless torments they had faced. Some of these scars harked back to previous sacrificial ceremonies, while others were brutal memories of various experiments and tests linked to the arcane powers of the Skull of Dreams.
When they first stepped into the opulent confines of the hall, their faces bore a hollow, emotionless look. Yet, as their eyes met the sight of the Saint and the Skull of Dreams strategically placed below the platform, sheer dread overtook them. Their bodies betrayed hints of a desire to resist or flee, yet any semblance of resistance was quashed by just a brief, commanding gaze from the Saint. Rendered immobile by this overpowering presence, they could only watch as a disciple, garbed in a somber grey robe and brandishing a razor-sharp ritual dagger, advanced menacingly toward them.
During the somber ritual, a dagger, uniquely polished using fresh snow to an almost reflective sheen, was the central instrument. The annihilators, their expressions filled with intense anticipation yet unspoken intent, closely observed the proceedings. With deliberate precision, the sharp blade made its way into the soft flesh of the two elves, leaving marks on their arms, thighs, and backs. Despite the depth of the incisions, none were designed to be fatal. It seemed as if the primary intent was to inflict the highest degree of torment and agony while preserving their lives.
Under the unwavering and intense scrutiny of the Saint, the individuals marked for sacrifice were left paralyzed with fear and anguish, so much so that they couldnt utter a scream or attempt to fight back. They were forcibly positioned by a group of men draped in somber gray robes right next to a formidable and heavily built cart. The depth of their torment was evident not through any audible cries, but rather in the grotesque contortions that marred their features.
The room, lit only by the dim, flickering candles, cast eerie shadows against the stone walls. As the elite priests cautiously approached the Skull of Dreams, a hush fell over the hall. Even the lowest ranking cultists recognized the weight of the moment. The energy emitted by the skull caused a hair-raising sensation, palpable even to those standing at a distance.
The first priest to step forward was Dumont. With an air of authority, he extended his hand and placed his fingers delicately on the goat heads carved surface. The moment they made contact, his body went rigid. The muscles on his face contorted in a silent scream, and his eyes rolled back. The entire chamber watched in fearful anticipation.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dumont removed his hand, gasping for breath. He appeared profoundly altered, his eyes glazed over as if he had witnessed visions of both unspeakable horrors and wonders. Without uttering a word, he stepped back, signaling the next priest to approach.
Each priests experience was different. Some wept uncontrollably, others whispered in tongues unknown to the observers, while a few simply fell into a deep trance, only to awaken with a newfound purpose.
Among those observing, Richard felt his heart race with a mix of fear and intrigue. The power and ancient knowledge contained within the Skull of Dreams was undeniable. However, the risks involved were equally evident. As more priests interacted with the Skull, Richard tried to glean from their reactions any insight into the mysteries they were exposed to.
Meanwhile, outside the chamber, the elven blood was being meticulously collected and bottled. Couriers were being prepared to transport the precious substance to the various city-states. The Cult of the Nameless Ones was infiltrating every corner of the world with their twisted dreams.
As the ritual in the hall concluded, Richard decided that he couldnt stand idly by. He would need to delve deeper into the operations of the cult and, if possible, put an end to their dark ambitions. Whatever the Skull of Dreams had unveiled to those priests, it was clear that its influence was not just confined to this chamber. It was a key to a realm of power and chaos that threatened to consume the very fabric of reality.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Richard mustered all the courage he could and took a bold step forward. He reached out, his fingers cautiously touching the horn of the ancient relic known as the Skull of Dreams.Upstodatee from n(0)/ve/lbIn/.(co/m
She must have ventured into the dreamworld from Wind Harbor.
Lucy, he called out, whats your status?
The geographical gap between the Vanished and Wind Harbor doesnt seem to halt the Dream of the Nameless One. Ive found myself back in this woodland area, with Shirley accompanying me, came the reply from Lucretia, resonating within Duncans mind. Rabbi and I have established contact. Shes still possessing a cultist, and her cover remains uncompromised.
Duncan pondered for a beat, then asked, Whats your take on the ritual they conducted?
In an environment that seemed both archaic and advanced, Lucretia voiced her incredulity and frustration, Were talking about a cadre of profoundly misguided individuals, employing equally deranged techniques to engage with remnants of the Old Gods. Their thought process is warped, their methodology fundamentally flawed, and the sacrifices they make are immeasurable. And yet, perplexingly, they seem to achieve some measure of what they aim for. As someone dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge, I cant fathom or condone their actions. With her countenance reflecting a myriad of emotions from disbelief to disgust, she continued, Imagine a group of clueless individuals taking blunt instruments to a malfunctioning advanced computational device, and against all odds, somehow making it work. The sheer audacity of it
Struggling momentarily to find the appropriate descriptor, she finally blurted out, Its a mockery to all sentient life forms!
Duncan responded in a contemplative tone, However bizarre their approach may appear, one cant deny that they did achieve something, even if it seems like theyre playing a perilous game with their lives.
The depth of emotion displayed on Lucretias face seemed to intensify.
Recognizing the escalating intensity on the face of the woman often referred to as the Sea Witch, Duncan diplomatically steered the conversation in another direction. Its becoming increasingly apparent that theres a multitude of these Goatheads, yet only a scant few might still possess clarity of mind. Im inclined to believe the only such sane specimen could be my first mate.
He took a moment to organize his thoughts and then added, Given that the sculpture which the cultists hold lacks a comprehensive sense of cognition, it might explain why their brazen ritual bore some fruit. The Skull of Dreams seems to respond purely on impulse, and it just so happened that one of its primal responses allowed these Annihilators to access the Dream of the Nameless One.
Were still in the dark as to whether this ritualistic process was a chance discovery by the Annihilators or if it was an arcane knowledge passed down by those mysterious Enders. And, while we might be close to decoding the cultists mode of dream-entry, the method the Suntists employ remains shrouded in secrecy
Lucretia pondered, Do you suppose the disciples of the Black Sun might have a Goathead of their own?
Duncan responded, furrowing his brows, Its within the realm of possibilities. However, my gut feeling says its probably more intricate than that. Up till now, only two varieties of Suntists have ventured into the Dream of the Nameless One: the singularly seen Sun Heir and the eerily inhuman Sun Remnants. Weve yet to witness regular human priests or followers of the Sun making an appearance. Its evident that whether theyre Heirs or Remnants, they belong to a classification distinct from humans.
Lucretia added, They resemble ancient god derivatives, entities with a spiritual architecture thats a stark contrast to that of humans.
Duncan concluded, Their method of entering the Dream of the Nameless One could be worlds apart from what the Annihilators employ.