bookandnovel Chapter 243 "Human Sacrifice"
Chapter 243 "Human Sacrifice"
Chapter 243 "Human Sacrifice"
"As expected, they are members of the Morse Order, but they've come to explore the hidden secrets of Bansi Island..."
"They've got their eyes on that 'Weather God'? That doesn't seem likely. If that were the case, they shouldn't have only sent a Sequence 9 'Secret Seeker'; at the very least, it should be one of the Ten Pillars himself."
"So, it's more likely that one of the ten pillars of the Morse Order simply wants to know what the secrets of this place are, and then create powerful magic using 'mystical reappearance'?"
"This makes perfect sense, especially since the anomaly has been publicly suppressed by the Church of Storms, allowing a '
"The arrival of the 'Secret Seeker' is enough."
"Therefore, one of the ten pillars behind Born Walker is most likely a 'mystic,' and if he's a 'master of prophecy,' he'll definitely be able to foresee something."
"Born Walker has a way of contacting the Morse Order in his memory, but it requires going to the Rothschild Islands."
"Perhaps I can make use of this."
"Now, no one on the island knows his true identity except me, and none of the Morse Order members outside the island know that he is dead. I can easily impersonate him."
"Later, I'll try to get a magical item from the Morse Order that allows me to use 'Mystic Reappearance.' Before I became a demigod, this would be very useful to me."
Tap~ Tap~
Suddenly, a series of footsteps approached outside the door.
Cyril looked around, then found a wall and placed his hand on it.
Alas, the wooden door was pushed open, and several gaunt figures wearing large black cloaks, with only the lower half of their faces visible, walked in.
The man leading the group was a man with a full head of white stubble. He raised his chin, looked around, then stepped aside and said to the people behind him:
"Hurry up, the ceremony is about to begin tonight."
"Two more people come with me to the cellar and bring out the prepared human sacrifice."
"Yes, Elder."
In the next room, separated by a wall, Sirien pressed one ear against the wall, listening intently to the conversation next door.
Soon, only the sound of footsteps echoed from next door, along with the creaking of a wooden cabinet being moved, followed by a muffled sound, faintly mingled with a low sob, "Human sacrifice..."
Cyril frowned and muttered something, then took a gold coin out of his pocket and flicked it into the air with a clang.
After spinning a few times, he caught the falling gold coin with his hand.
"If the face is up, then we will save what these believers call 'living sacrifices'."
"With their backs facing up, we...kill these believers who perform human sacrifices."
After whispering, he opened his palm, revealing the gold coin in his hand.
Back side up!
He carefully put away the gold coins, then stretched out one hand and pressed it against the wall. A faint blue light emanated from his palm, condensing into a blurry, intangible, blue door on the wall in front of him.
The blurry gate that suddenly appeared on the wall not far away made the cultists who were dragging the "human sacrifice" instantly alert.
"What is this?"
"Watch out, intruder!"
Cyril glanced at the cloaked cultists, a glint of electricity flashing in his eyes, as if lightning from the depths of his consciousness was boiling.
"Mental piercing!"
"Hmm..."
In an instant, all the believers in the room suddenly stopped, and then either knelt or fell to the ground.
Their minds went completely blank, and as soon as they managed to utter a faint nasal sound, bright red blood began to flow from their nasal cavities.
"Waaaaah~"
Behind several cult members, a boy who was completely bound and had a rag stuffed in his mouth suddenly became agitated, twisting his body and making muffled noises from his gagged mouth.
Cyril recognized him at a glance; he was the younger brother of the siblings on the White Agate, and he remembered that the other man's name was Pierre Moore.
After seeing a familiar face, Cyril glanced at the other people tied up on the ground as "human sacrifices." Fortunately, there was only one familiar face.
Otherwise, he would suspect that the other person's misfortune was because they knew him.
Cyril raised his left hand, put his index finger to his lips, made a sound, and then turned his attention back to the few cultists who had not yet recovered from the "mental piercing".
He took out a piece of drawing paper, shook it open, and then reached inside, pulling out a sharp dagger that gleamed with a cold light.
After a brief delay, the man with a full white stubble on his chin, who was the leader of these believers, had recovered.
Just as he was about to make a fuss and open his mouth to call for help, he suddenly felt an unimaginable pressure.
Immediately, it felt as if electric currents surged through his mind, forming barbed whips that relentlessly lashed his soul.
This "feeling" is both painful and numb, as if it originates from the depths of the brain, making it irresistible. One can only tremble, collapse to the ground, and curl up into a ball.
The electric light in his eyes disappeared, and Cyril took two steps forward, piercing his chest with the dagger through his back, twisting it once before pulling it out.
He then repeated the actions, either piercing the heart or severing the trachea, thus eliminating all the believers in the room.
"Chirp! Chirp!"
Pierre Moore, lying on the ground, suddenly widened her eyes and looked behind Cyril, making an urgent chirping sound.
Cyril, sensing a warning from his spiritual intuition, did not turn around, but instead let his eyes reflect an illusory book that was slowly turning its pages.
The next second, an arm with a metallic sheen and some reddish rust pierced through his chest from behind.
Cyril's figure rapidly thinned and brittled, eventually becoming a crudely cut paper figure.
Call ~
The paper figure suddenly burst into flames, with bright red flames shooting up more than two meters high.
Then Cyril leaped out of the flames, his sharp dagger gleaming coldly as he sliced open most of the neck of the cultist who had ambushed him from behind, and then slammed his clenched right fist into the man's head.
With a bang, the cultist's head, along with a bright red spine, was smashed off.
A look of surprise flashed in Sirion's eyes. This was not the effect that a "record officer" like him could produce with his fist. It was more like the other person's head had deliberately detached from his body to meet his fist.
Even as the head that had been protruding from the spine slammed against the wall with a dull thud, it then lunged at him again.
At the same time, the headless body did not fall down; the flesh and blood at the severed neck writhed, emitting a meowing sound as it rubbed against the air.
After a brief moment of stunned silence, it also charged towards Sirion.
Snapped!
Cyril snapped his fingers, igniting a flame, and completed another fire jump.
After creating some distance, he spread his arms halfway, and in his eyes, a phantom book slowly turned the pages.
"I came, I saw, I recorded."
A sacred, bright, and pure warm light descended from the sky, falling upon the headless corpse and the head, still attached to its spine, floating in the air.
In an instant, the head and his body simultaneously emitted a hissing sound and wisps of thin, reddish smoke.
boom! boom! boom!
Cyril kept opening his mouth, simulating the sound of gunfire, creating air bullets.
Several bursts of blood erupted simultaneously from the head connected to the spine and the headless body, before it collapsed helplessly to the ground.
After dealing with the mutated cultist's corpse, Sirion frowned and looked around.
He did not see any remaining spirits of these dead believers; it seemed that their spirits were taken away by some force the instant they died.
The cultist whose head and body were separated, in particular, had a body structure that was inhuman in some respects, more like a bio-weapon that had been artificially modified.
Despite lacking extraordinary characteristics, its combat power is already comparable to that of a Sequence 8 Extraordinary.
He suspected that these worshippers of the "Weather God" were themselves a sacrifice, a sacrifice used by the "Weather God" to appease the power of the "City of Calamity" on Bansi Island.
"Woo~"
"Hmm"
The urgent, low chirping sounds around her interrupted Cyril's thoughts.
He frowned slightly and glanced at the "living sacrifices" on the ground.
The crowd fell silent, leaving only Pierre Moore struggling to make his presence known by twisting his body.
With a sigh, he took out a dagger from the painting again and cut the ropes binding these people one by one.
Then he looked at Pierre, whose eyes were red-rimmed and who seemed to want to ask but dared not, and casually said:
"Didn't you come to the island with your family? How come you're all alone now, and you've been tied up here?"
Pierre gripped his shirt tightly, his voice trembling slightly:
"I met a vendor selling local specialties. I thought it looked interesting, so I bought some things. After I finished buying them, I found that they had all disappeared."
"I was trying to find them, but I got knocked unconscious before I got very far."
"When I woke up, I was locked in a dark basement with them. They said it was a ritual, and we were sacrifices offered to the gods."