Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 529 - 483

At this moment, ten days had passed since Lyle arrived at Degonris.

Ten days later, today, was the day the ritual was to begin.

The sun set into twilight, and night descended once again.

This evening, the Loshutar Blood Clan did not begin their feast; for them, tonight was a sacred day.

Joshua, donning a pure white robe, took the Bloodstone Chalice from the statue. The black liquid within writhed as if sensing something, slithering out of the chalice, and swirling around Joshua. Accompanied by the ancient ballads chanted by the Blood Knights, that godly blood, like living creatures, burrowed into Joshua’s body.

Darkness wriggled upon his flesh.

Joshua’s power climbed swiftly in a short span, quickly reaching a point even he could not control.

He became a shadow and appeared beside Karen, who was dressed to the nines, taking her into his embrace, and his tender gaze met her murderous one.

Joshua opened his mouth wide, revealing the vampire’s fangs.

...

Silvette had not left the chapel the entire day, and Ralph, too, stood vigil by her side.

She was like a sculpture, save for the breath that she still took. Ralph did not know what she was thinking—what thoughts a girl facing death might have; the mere notion ignited an unnamed fire in his heart.

Silvette’s movement broke Ralph’s agitation. The girl slowly extended her arm, touching the hilt of the Cursed Sword. Holding the blade in both hands, she faced the sculpture of the sufferer and softly whispered "Amen", placing the blade’s edge upon her own neck.

"With this vile blade bestowed by the gods in my hand, I shall end the fallen bloodline of Loshutar, the calamity of Degonris, and with me, it shall vanish from this world!"

Silvette’s hand, dragging the blade to slay herself, was stopped by a black-gloved hand.

An indifferent voice rose beside the girl.

"If your sacrifice is necessary, then let me do the work of killing you."

Ralph’s grip was like a vise, and Silvette couldn’t break free, a hint of resignation on her face.

"Isn’t it the same thing?"

"Suicide is a grave sin, and those who take their own lives cannot enter heaven."

Ralph’s stubbornness brought a slight smile to the girl’s face; he was an unbeliever, yet now he cared about the church’s dogma. Moreover, how could a soul killed by the Cursed Sword of an Angel possibly enter the Lord’s heaven? While pondering this, Silvette still agreed to Ralph’s request. She grasped her long hair, and with Verlet’s help, pinned it up behind her head, as if she were a bride.

Silvette closed her eyes in contentment, revealing her snowy neck to Ralph’s raised blade.

Verlet had already turned away, while Silvette looked serene, and Ralph’s expression was cold.

The Cursed Sword was held high by the dire wolf. Even in the warm light of the holy, his voice remained icy cold.

"If this world requires the sacrifice of an innocent young soul for its salvation, I will definitely question the god who made this world, asking him when exactly his brain short-circuited to set such a screwed-up destiny. If his answer displeases me, then I will run him through with my sword."

"Just like this."

The swinging sword cast a silver flash, as what was severed thunderously collapsed.

But it was not Silvette’s neck that was cut, but rather the sufferer sculpture ablaze with holy light, which smashed to the ground and shattered into pieces.

The ritual was disrupted by Ralph.

The radiance faded, and Silvette’s bewilderment fragmented along with the sculpture.

"What have you done! Ralph! You’ve destroyed Degonris’s future!" Silvette grasped Ralph’s collar, her own persistence, determination, and expectations crushed by a vile wolf.

"Return the venom of a god to the god himself, so Angels too can bleed," he mused.

The half severed statue of the sufferer, its lower half still standing firm, gushed crimson blood from the severed part at the top like a fountain, the blood coagulating into a mass, forming waves that burst through the chapel’s ceiling.

The Blood Angel, with wings unfurled, emerged from the monument of suffering.

It was an Angel formed entirely of blood, its flapping wings showering blood-rain upon the earth below.

The Blood Angel let out a chilling roar, its body twisting with a gash that mirrored Ralph’s slashing attack. In the air, it wailed.

Amidst the blood-rain, the Angel howled!

"You’ve destroyed everything! Mortal! You’ve ruined everything we’ve prepared!!!"

The ground began to crumble, Degonris was experiencing a catastrophic earthquake, as if it was the end of the world.

"I don’t understand, Ralph, what have you done?" Silvette watched Degonris collapse, Ralph seeming to have angered the Angel—indeed, his previous action was sacrilege.

The might of god descended upon the Earth, the oppressive power of the Blood Angel weighing down like the crushing pressure of deep waters. Silvette and Verlet were unable to move, could only watch helplessly as divine wrath was unleashed.

Ralph stood in the forefront, long sword in hand.

"Kevin told me I must lift the mysterious seal that this land’s force has created. Ever since I set foot on this land, I’ve been pondering what the law governing it could possibly be."

"This rule imposed on everyone here mimicked an administrative body we’re all familiar with, one capable of operating with just Silvette alone. With my personal experiences, life lessons, and some hobbies. Alright, this bureaucracy I know all too well, and the moment I heard those four monsters, I knew exactly what it was."

"The rule, it’s the law of a prison."

"Each area is a prison cell, each cell imprisoning a prisoner. They can never leave their cell."

"The administrator of the east, the Priests of the south, the bell ringer of the west, the Tomb Guardian of the north. Four cells holding four monsters."

"So, what’s imprisoned in the center? Whose prisoner’s cell is the land beneath our feet?"

"The answer is, the only monster that appears at night, the Blood Angel."

"The Angel is the fifth monster that needs to be hunted."

Ralph pointed his sword at the Angel, "The prisoner pretends to be an oppressed jailer, a classic trick. You’ve exploited the inherent impression of this dumb noble lady, Silvette, and dressed yourself as an Angel cursed by Loshutar. You’ve long controlled everything in Degonris, caged your sister in this prison you devised, and made her your puppet."

"I’m right, aren’t I, Loshutar’s Blood Angel."

The blood-rain ceased, and within the congealed blood, the outline of a human face emerged. The so-called madness was nothing more than a disguise; the Blood Angel revealed a complete human figure.

"It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered an interesting opponent like you."

"How long has it been? Fifty years? Sixty years?"

"I shall reward your correct guess, clever Demon Hunter."

"You will die by my hand."

"You will die at the hands of the leader of the Legion of the Fallen, the Blood Angel, Gallaron Loshutar."

"Don’t worry, even if I’m reduced to just a mass of blood, I can make sure you die a most agonizing death."