"Since we are already here, we might as well offer the sacrifice."
Lynch laughed self-deprecatingly at Miss Valente. In truth, he was well aware that the two of them had no other choice.
Although both Maya's description and the reality of her dreams proved that the temple was the most critical site for Mordiggian's sacrifice, leaving little room for doubt, he still felt uneasy. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Son of the Formless were actively herding him into the temple.
Thus, he did not completely abandon his struggle. Along the way, he tested other paths several times, attempting to break away toward different directions or even back toward the light pillar. He even circled to the opposite side of the temple, trying to move away from it from the other side.
This was a dangerous endeavor for both of them, but Miss Valente said nothing. Instead, she willingly followed him in his madness, weaving through the massive clusters of the Son of the Formless.
Yet, the final result was that both of them were forced onto the square outside the temple, covered in dust and in a state of utter disarray.
The city was teeming with the Son of the Formless, yet they grew scarcer the closer one got to the light pillar. It was unclear if this was because the creatures feared the power of the temple or if it was their deliberate doing.
God help us, I hope it is not the latter, or things will be even more troublesome.
"After your reminder, I now also have the feeling that we are being driven here by the Son of the Formless."
The duller person from another world could not grasp the traveler's sense of humor. Miss Valente squeezed her folding fan tightly, looking back at the direction from which they had come. In the darkness, countless Son of the Formless were still slithering and churning, exerting a crushing sense of pressure.
"I have a sudden hypothesis regarding the sacrifices of the past few millennia."
"Oh?"
"Perhaps we are repeating the experience of those sacrifices," Lynch whispered. "Think about it. Given the nature of the Son of the Formless, no matter what room a sacrifice hides in, they can crawl inside and scare them out. Once a sacrifice emerges into the dark, they are inevitably drawn to the only light source in the city, moving toward the temple. And if someone is not attracted by the green light, the Son of the Formless will surround and drive them from multiple angles, just as they are doing now, forcing the sacrifice to enter the temple and eventually be consumed by Mordiggian."
"So it was not an illusion? It is truly possible they are intentionally herding us into the temple?" Miss Valente nodded thoughtfully. "That is indeed possible, but in a way, this aligns even better with our goal. Are we not intending to meet that damned evil god?"
"Right. So we must brave the temple, though this temple is truly..."
It was hard to put into words.
Looking from afar, it was a spire-topped stone temple. A pillar of green light shot straight up from the center, disappearing into the darkness above.
The light pillar pulsed with an eerie green glow, like a massive mass of flickering green flame, allowing the two to barely discern their surroundings. The light was dim, cold, and eerie, radiating a terrifying power that caused one's heart to quake. A single glance from a distance was enough to plunge one into endless despair and fear.
The gloomy light pillar held no warmth; instead, it was bone-chillingly cold. The ground and the temple nearby were covered in a thick layer of ice, which also pulsed with an eerie green glow under the light.
The only thing Lynch could be thankful for was that the square was devoid of those terrifying ice statues, or at least, there were not many. The square was inevitably dotted with the same statues that were ubiquitous throughout the city, and while they were covered in a thick layer of ice, they were not like the ice statues from his dream that could launch real attacks.
The temple gate stood open just as it had in the dream. Dark green mist swirled in and out of the entrance, occasionally spilling out before being rapidly retracted, as if it were a living thing.
"Not a good omen, Mr. Levive." As Lynch scrutinized the temple, Miss Valente's eerie voice drifted from behind him. "In mysticism, physical green often represents plants and safety, a good sign. But green light and green mist are the exact opposite; they represent disease and lethal poison. This is not something defined by anyone, but rather a rule of the laws of nature, which does not shift according to individual will."
"So it is actually poisonous here?" Lynch frowned. "But I have entered it in Maya's dream, and there were no issues."
"Her dream was, after all, merely a memory, and it differs significantly from the true Zur Baha Sahr. Do not worry, Mr. Levive. This is merely information interference formed by a high-level mystical will upon the current world; it is not an attack from the evil god, nor does it have enough power to harm a Soul Severer specializing in pharmacology. Here, take a pair of nose plugs. They will protect us for now; we shall see if there are any issues once we are deeper inside."
How was it that this girl became a different person whenever the topic turned to mysticism and pharmacology? It seemed this noble lady did not rely solely on her status; she truly possessed substantial knowledge. He had underestimated her before. With a sense of admiration, Lynch took the nose plugs, put them on, and immediately shielded Miss Valente behind him.
It was a pity Officer Natalie was not here; otherwise, he could have shielded her in front of him instead. Having her around was truly reliable.
Amusing himself with these thoughts, Lynch made a gesture for her to follow. Ignoring the Son of the Formless pursuing them from the distance, he carefully slipped through the gate.
Inside, it was even quieter; there was not even the sound of moving air. The stench of rotting corpses was something even the nose plugs could not block, and the waves of odor made Lynch's eyes ache.
The green light seemed omnipresent, illuminating everything in the corridor with a faint glow. Even the faces of Lynch and Miss Valente were turned green. The visual effect was extremely eerie, making both of them instinctively swallow hard as they stuck close to one another, one in front of the other.
Well, I am definitely not afraid. I am just ensuring better protection for the lady.
【Chuckle.】
I knew you were peeping. Whatever, do as you like.
Lynch took a deep breath to soothe his nerves. Confirming that the Son of the Formless behind them had not followed them in, he raised his cane and slowed his pace. Miss Valente followed closely behind Lynch, her folding fan pointed toward her side, remaining on high alert for the surrounding environment.
Just as in the dream seen by the journalist Maya, this was a long corridor. The difference was that there were several frozen statues standing within it. Unlike those outside, the statues here were dressed in the robes common to clergy members. It was a mystery how the sculptor had managed to distinguish them so clearly.
The walls on both sides of the corridor were still carved with intricate murals. Despite being buried underground for thousands of years, the murals remained fresh and vivid, clearly depicting the story of the ancient Zur Baha Sahr offering corpses to Mordiggian.
Amidst the eerie green, the walls were covered in twisted scenes. Miss Valente clutched the corner of Lynch's coat tightly. She wanted to look at the murals but dared not, so she could only peek out from behind Lynch, stealing glances at this bizarre story. Before they had taken many steps, Lynch suddenly stopped, his entire body freezing in place. Miss Valente bumped straight into him, then began rubbing her head with a conflicted expression.
Lynch could not spare the time to apologize and immediately whispered his realization: "It seems we have overlooked an important point."
"Hmm?"
"Look at these murals. The corpses are sent into the temple, processed, and placed upon the altar, after which Mordiggian emerges to feed." Lynch said in a low, grim voice, "We both overlooked that Mordiggian is the King of Gloomy Cold Bones; the sacrifices in the murals are all corpses. It does not eat living people." Lynch sighed, wiping the sweat from his palms, his voice rasping, "Therefore, if the annual sacrifices truly walked in here on their own, it implies that there is one more step hidden here."
Miss Valente's expression turned stiff: "Turning us into corpses?"
"Yes."
Lynch looked around with a bitter smile, an unsettling feeling of being watched rising within him.
It is too late, too late.
Rate on N.U.
