The Evil God Summoned by the Saintess-Chapter 77 - 75: Deathly Utterance

"Ugh—!"

As soon as Rose stopped pushing her forward, Hilia immediately landed on the ground and clutched a tree, retching.

"Too... too fast."

"Told you not to look back at the explosion," Rose said calmly.

Hilia: "..."

Finally recovering from the dizziness, she looked up at her surroundings.

"This doesn’t seem like the way we came?"

She realized she seemed to be in a vast expanse of graves, and ahead of the cemetery, there appeared to be a large plaza.

"So many tombs..."

Only now did Hilia recall that this place was called Twilight Tomb.

Aside from the scattered gravestones at the entrance, there had been no trace of a cemetery after entering the so-called Nether River, the investigation campsite, and the Ghost Jungle.

So this is where it is.

The thin death energy returned again.

The death energy here was extremely thick.

Hilia glanced toward the frontmost plaza, got back on her flying broom, and slowly drifted over.

"Where is this?" Hilia asked Rose.

"Twilight Tomb," Rose replied.

Hilia: "..."

Seeing that Rose wouldn’t say more, she had no choice but to move forward.

Soon, she arrived at the plaza and immediately saw the high platform at the far end.

"Looks like a speaker’s stage."

The girl frowned, perplexed.

"What’s the point of building a plaza and a stage in a cemetery? For reciting poetry to the dead?"

"What if it’s for a sacrificial ritual?" Rose chuckled.

"Who’d need a plaza this big for a ritual—" but in the middle of saying it, Hilia suddenly had a flash of insight, "Ah, I get it, this is where the Dusk Sect performs sacrifices!"

Regardless of whether this guess was right, Hilia started to investigate the plaza.

Especially the stage at the very front of the plaza.

But unfortunately, she didn’t find anything here.

There were no blood stains on the ground, nothing left behind on the stage.

The only difference was that the death energy on the stage was even thicker.

"Why can’t I find anything..."

Hilia felt disheartened.

"If you can’t find anything, why not try asking the people here?" Rose said, smiling.

"The people here?"

Hilia looked left and right, but saw no one.

"Wait a minute, you mean..."

The girl stepped back two steps in fear.

"You want me to ask the dead here?"

"That’s right." Rose nodded.

Hilia stared nervously at the countless tombs outside the plaza, feeling as if corpses might suddenly burst from their coffins.

Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

Not even a ghost appeared.

"In the dark element branch, there is a kind of spell called undead magic. Among undead magic, there’s a magic called [Spirit Communication Skill], which can communicate with the dead and recreate scenes of the past.

"Want to learn it?"

Hilia immediately shook her head, "No, I can’t learn dark element magic. It conflicts with the Holy Word Skill—it would cause my Holy Word Skill to regress."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "What era is this—still with those restrictions?"

"It’s what the instructor emphasizes in every Holy Word Skill class. Though I’m curious what the spirit communication skill is like, I really can’t learn dark element spells..."

"Suit yourself."

Rose could see that Hilia genuinely couldn’t learn it.

He bent over the magic puppet. "Then let me show you the advanced form of the Spirit Communication Skill, [Death Whisper]."

Rose manipulated the magic puppet to spread its arms wide, transforming the magic power transmitted from Hilia into dark element magic, merging it with the thick death energy all around.

Hilia felt the surrounding mist grow denser.

Soon, she couldn’t even see anything nearby— even the magic puppet began to blur.

Suddenly, she heard a voice.

"O lost lambs, can you hear it? Death is calling us; he commands us to abandon sinful flesh, to cleanse tainted souls, to open the road to immortality for us..."

The mist around her gradually faded. Hilia saw that she was still on the plaza, but now many people had appeared around her.

All of them knelt in unison, raising their hands in reverence, performing some strange form of prayer.

Hilia listened for a while, and recognized this as the Dusk Sect’s sacrificial ritual.

She even saw someone familiar on the high platform.

"That’s Suna!"

Suna wasn’t taking part in the sacrifice; standing as a guard at the edge of the stage, she watched the countless believers below with a cold gaze.

The ritual suddenly sped up, reaching its climax. The heretic leading the ceremony raised both hands high. "Your flesh shall be buried in the Twilight Tomb, dwelling place of the Death God—that is your honor! And your souls will follow the Death God forever!"

"Woooo—ahhhh—!"

The cacophony of the believers shook the heavens. Hilia saw red mist rising from their bodies, gathering overhead into a cloud, and then being absorbed by the heretic conducting the ritual.

Some of the mist split into smaller wisps, absorbed by others on the stage.

Everyone wore a look of intoxication, as if they were inhaling some spiritual drug.

Soon, the heretics with arms raised began to collapse, unable to stand, never to rise again.

More and more people fell, gradually ceasing to breathe.

Until no hands were raised.

The red mist then dissipated. The heretic leading the ceremony smacked his lips and said lingeringly, "This batch of believers is a bit worse than the last. Next time, bring in more mages—now those are the best."

"Understood, Master. We’ll see to it shortly."

"Also, with so many deaths, the Holy Court is bound to react. Notify the Dawn Divine Hall directly—let that Wagner guy handle the bodies, and give him a little extra reward."

"..."

The mist re-flooded the scene, and seconds later it faded; the people in the plaza had vanished, replaced by two groups fighting.

Wagner, his face aglow with holy radiance, cast Holy Word: Persuasion, saying solemnly, "Lay down your arms, friends of Dusk Sect. There’s no good end to defying the Holy Court. Go repent at the Divine Hall—it’s what you ought to do."

The heretics gradually stopped resisting, allowing the Holy Court knights to bind them and take them away.

Wagner was the last to leave. He weighed his coin pouch, opened it for a look, saw gleaming gold coins inside, and left satisfied.

"Smart lot. I’ll let your excesses slide. This many bodies—just dig a hole and bury them..."

The mist once more clouded her vision.

When it cleared again, the magic puppet had reappeared.

"A replay of yesterday through the eyes of the dead—so, did you learn anything?" Rose asked with a smile.

"..."

Hilia hung her head, silent.

But her hand was slowly balling into a fist.

"Lord Rose, tell me, why is there always someone like that in the Holy Court?"

"It’s natural, even if a god ruled personally, they couldn’t prevent maggots from appearing."

"But..."

"I’ve already recorded that entire vision for you. Let’s go—head to Dawn City. If you have something to say, just ask that Wagner guy directly."

"Yeah!"