CHAPTER 114: YOU SCARED ME TO DEATH - DEATH KNIGHT

That night, Saint Dominic’s Cathedral.

Moonlight filtered through thick clouds and cast dim, hazy shadows across the land. A thin mist permeated the air. Under the influence of the mist and the dim moonlight, a pitch-black shadow shrouded the cathedral, and even the sacred statues, which looked like works of art, gleamed darkly.

Inside the cathedral, rows of black candles flickered to life. Dozens of figures in black robes stood with their hands clasped before their chests, their eyes closed as they prayed in low whispers. Among them were theology students Pace and Reid, Julien, the dean of the college, and the cathedral officials led by Bishop Keith—nearly everyone was present.

At the very front of the group, a mysterious figure with an obscured face smeared crushed bugs on the ground to draw a magic circle in the shape of an inverted pentagram, representing a hellish faith.

A few of the black-robed figures brought forth wooden boxes and a half-human, half-bug evil god statue, along with Quinton, the dark mage. He seemed to realize what was happening when he saw the eerie scene. He cursed out loud and struggled to break free from the restraints to escape.

The mysterious figure glanced at Quinton, and the latter’s eyes immediately rolled back into his skull; he fell into a silent slumber.

The mysterious figure opened the wooden box, using the dark-colored Holy Shroud inside to cover the half-human, half-bug statue and ordering both the statue and Quinton to be placed on the inverted pentagram. Prayers began, signifying the beginning of the summoning ritual.

The robed figures murmured the prayers. As the ritual progressed, their emotions grew increasingly intense. They sensed the attention of their ‘Lord’, their hearts filled with hope and confidence for the future, lost in a satisfaction they had never felt, which grew in intensity until it evolved into madness.

Black candlelight blazed harder. The darkness enveloped the cathedral, and accompanied by devout prayers, the entire space was enveloped in a sinister yet sacred sort of solemnity. The inverted pentagram radiated cold light. The statue covered by the Holy Shroud began to writhe slowly with black veins extending outward, crawling over Quinton’s entire body like worms and burrowing into him through his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes.

Quinton convulsed like he was having a seizure, suddenly raising both hands with his fingers splayed, as if to embrace something.

The Holy Shroud blazed with red light that resembled searing flames or crimson blood, filling every corner of the cathedral with its bloody scent. A powerful consciousness beyond verbal description descended suddenly upon the statue, then surged into Quinton’s body through the black veins.

Five minutes... ten... an hour.

At the second right before dawn, the statue beneath the Holy Shroud vanished. The dull brown linen cloth fell to the ground, and the inverted pentagram stopped rotating.

“Ah, the mortal world!”

“I’m back...”

Quinton, who had slept all night, opened his eyes—or the Thousand-Eyed Demon, to be more precise. The evil god from hell, one of the seventy-two demon lords and an enemy of God, had descended to the mortal realm.

“Good morning, Master. Sigma, your servant, offers you the most sincere deference. Did you sleep well last night?” The mysterious figure, Sigma, addressed the demon king with one hand on his chest, elegant as a butler.

“You’ve done well, Sigma.”

The Thousand-Eyed Demon twisted his half-human, half-millipede body into a standing position. He conjured a mirror of black light with a wave and examined the shell that carried his will. It wasn’t perfect, but it was sufficient.

Sigma was a follower of the Thousand-Eyed Demon, calling himself a servant of God. During a wave of thick fog, he received the Thousand-Eyed Demon’s blessing and officially became a disciple, gaining a power bestowed by the demon.

He had been lurking in Cambrook County and kept a low profile to avoid attention. The Church of Heavenly Father had long suspected a demon’s agent to be active in the county, but lacking evidence and unable to identify the agent, every investigation ended up inconclusive.

Unlike other demon followers, Sigma was extremely rational. He waited and never made a move until success was guaranteed.

The Thousand-Eyed Demon was satisfied with the servant. The Holy Shroud, a host body suitable for his descent, and corrupted divine servants—Sigma had managed to meet all the strict prerequisites for his descent.

“Sigma, how should I reward you?”

The Thousand-Eyed Demon swayed as his arthropod parts retracted into his body, and his chaotic thoughts calmed. At this moment, he seemed no different from an ordinary person. Put him in pants, and no one would see him for what he was.

“Your descent is the greatest reward for me, Master.” Sigma brought over a suit and respectfully placed it before the Thousand-Eyed Demon.

“Well said, but I must reward you.” The Thousand-Eyed Demon looked around, his gaze settling on the Holy Shroud. With a wave of his hand, the shroud turned into a black robe, a gift for his most loyal and capable servant. The magical item would allow the wearer to activate an inverted pentagram magic circle with their thoughts, thus wielding the unique ability of the Thousand-Eyed Demon: to extract a target’s soul and thoughts and convert the target’s power for their use.

As a servant of the Thousand-Eyed Demon, Sigma had already been granted similar abilities, but wearing the robe transformed from the Holy Shroud, his abilities would be significantly enhanced.

Sigma was puzzled. After putting on the robe, he asked, “Master, the Holy Shroud is named for having wrapped a saint’s remains. It should be our enemy. I can understand using it to break the seal on hell, but why can it bear the inverted pentagram?”

“Sigma, do not be misled by false history. Saint Dominic was never pure.”

The Thousand-Eyed Demon told his servant the truth: “He was a descendant of demons in the mortal world. His devout faith did not change the blood flowing in his veins. He thought draining all his blood would sever his sins, but some still clung to the shroud.”

A pious saint with unforgivable blood of hell in his veins, mixing the sacred with the sinful. Just thinking about it made the demon laugh loudly.

Though the demon had not succeeded in corrupting the saint and was ultimately driven back to hell by Dominic, the demon had not failed completely. The blood of sin remained in the mortal world, giving the demon a chance to return.

Sigma understood only part of it, but instead of asking more questions, he said, “Master, now that you have descended, what should we do next? Your servant awaits your commands.”

“Stay in Cambrook County. Use this cathedral as your base to develop followers. Do not let outsiders know that I have descended.” The Thousand-Eyed Demon looked into the distance. “As for me, I’ll be going to Londan. The fog there can open the gates of hell. I have friends... They all want a vacation in the mortal world.”

The Thousand-Eyed Demon smiled coldly. Recently, very recently, one of his allies had succeeded in descending to the mortal world, but due to insufficient preparation, the demon was driven back to hell by mages shortly after arriving. The farce of letting victory slip from their grasp made the demon the latest butt of the joke in hell.

Thinking of the incident, the Thousand-Eyed Demon became even more appreciative of Sigma. If not for his excellent servant, he wouldn’t have descended so smoothly.

“Master, I wish to accompany you to Londan.”

“No, you must stay here,” the demon said sternly. “Remember, do not let anyone know that I have descended.”

“As you command, Master.”

***

September eighth.

Wayne arrived at the cathedral with a briefcase. For his respect for history and other reasons he could not divulge, he had his subordinates make handwritten copies of the five books, which would be kept in his bedroom back in Londan.

He hadn’t visited the church today only to return and borrow more books, but for another reason: to inquire about the progress of the investigation.

It had been three days. How had he spent the past three days, you ask? Well, he had been reading books with Ottilia in the office every day. His subordinates had started to look at them strangely.

How preposterous!

Why are they only watching? Get a rumor mill going!

Wayne knew that demon followers were good at hiding, and to avoid alerting them, all investigations had to be conducted in secret, making the whole process difficult. However, three days were too long. If there was still no update, he would return to Londan.

“Oh, Dean Julian? What are you doing here?” Wayne ran into a group from the theology college as soon as he entered the cathedral. He teased, “You’re going about it so blatantly, openly leading your people to the cathedral. If this gets out, Bishop Keith will have a headache.”

Julian smiled awkwardly. Learning that Wayne was looking for Keith, he gave him the direction before hurriedly leaving with the scholars. Although the dean had a strange expression on his face, like someone with a guilty conscience, Wayne didn’t think too much of it, attributing that to Julian’s unease for not following the proper protocol. He asked the cathedral staff and found Bishop Keith confessing before the cross.

“Bishop, I’ve come to return the books.” He frowned. “What’s going on? You said that you would look into the demon’s agents, yet you’re acting like nothing happened?”

Keith paused, then shook his head. “I’m doing my best. The other side is too well hidden. I can only wait for them to expose themselves.”

“That’s too passive. I can’t stay in Cambrook County indefinitely. I’ll return to Londan today. If you discover anything, notify Darcy. He’ll call me.”

Wayne pursed his lips. They were so inefficient! How had the Church of Heavenly Father fallen this far?

Such was the way of big organizations. They dragged their feet and focused all their energy on making money. As a contracted outsider, he couldn’t be bothered to get more involved than what he was paid to do. After a couple of complaints, he stated his purpose.

“Returning books...” Keith frowned. Yes, he remembered now. He shook his head apologetically, saying that he’d been too busy these past few days working day and night, never stopping to take a breath. As a result, his memory seemed to have suffered.

“As long as no boys were hurt in the process,” Wayne mumbled under his breath, following Bishop Keith to the garden warehouse. Keith seemed distracted today, perhaps because he hadn’t slept for several nights. He was in such a poor condition that he even neglected to sign his name when he entered. It took Wayne reminding him for him to remember.

In the third section of the warehouse, Wayne selected a few ancient books according to Ottilia’s requests. With the investigation making no progress, he didn’t plan to stay in Cambrook County any longer and decided to borrow more books this time.

He wouldn’t borrow that many. Twenty or so would do, enough to satisfy the book-loving Ottilia.

A moment later, he frowned, pointing at the bookshelf. “Bishop Keith, has anyone else been to the warehouse these past few days? I remember there were several interesting biographies three days ago, but now they’re all gone.”

Keith thought about it and shook his head. “Probably other clergy members. I’ve been investigating lately and haven’t paid attention to the warehouse.”

But there are no signatures on the entry log for the past couple of days, and your signature is required for both entering and leaving the warehouse.

Wayne gave Keith a once-over and said after a while, “Get some rest. You’re in a terrible state. Forget the investigation. You can’t even stop cultists from barging through the door like this.”

Keith accepted the comment with a wry smile, helping Wayne pack the ancient books without complaining about him taking thirty precious volumes at once.

“Strange. His gait is unsteady, and he looks listless, classic signs of physical exhaustion. He didn’t really indulge in some immoral kink, did he?” Wayne muttered as he left the cathedral with his large suitcase.

After his departure, Bishop Keith sought out Sigma, who was reading ancient books. Upon hearing the briefing, Sigma frowned deeply.

The ability granted by the Thousand-Eyed Demon was powerful, allowing him to control others’ thoughts and will without leaving traces, but it wasn’t without flaw. If he didn’t actively control Keith, the puppet would only follow the basic commands.

Sigma had reason to suspect that Wayne had noticed something amiss.

“How strong is the Archdeacon?”

“Very. He’s a Silver-rank mage. He was the one who disrupted our plan last time.” Keith bowed as he answered like a humble servant.

“He’s returning to Londan?”

“Yes.”

Sigma pondered silently. He had already controlled the cathedral and the theology college, but deliberately bypassed the Church of Nature’s base. Now it seemed that despite his attempt to avoid attention, attention found him.

There was no other choice. He had to make a move.

“Silver-rank mage...”

Sigma picked up the phone beside him and dialed a number. He couldn’t stray too far from his controlled targets—at least he had to stay in the university city. Without his direct intervention, his underlings were all useless against a Silver-rank mage.

Even if they could defeat and kill the Silver-rank mage, the magical traces left would cause the already complex situation to spiral out of control. Fortunately, magic wasn’t the only way to take a life in this world.

A car accident and a shooting would suffice.

***

Route 114.

With the investigation seeing no progress, Wayne decided to leave. He handed the suitcase of books to Ottilia before driving toward Londan on his own.

To familiarize himself with the route, he drove slowly and slowed down further after entering the highway. The fog he encountered during the trip to Cambrook County was still fresh in his memory. He suspected that it was a high-level dungeon, a projection of a different world similar to certain urban legends in Londan.

He didn’t want to accidentally enter another high-level dungeon, so he slowed down and released his dove out of the window for navigation. If heavy fog appeared, he would turn back immediately.

No fog appeared, but he did see two cars that had gotten into a rear-end collision, and the two drivers were pointing fingers at each other. That was way too dangerous! Wayne honked his horn to warn them. Just because he was driving slowly didn’t mean that all drivers were. If they wanted to fight, do that on the roadside instead of risking their lives to make trouble for others.

The drivers jumped and flipped off the approaching black sedan. Wayne wasn’t one to take it lying down. He rolled down his window and returned the gesture.

As a petty man, he didn’t stop at returning the middle finger. He had his dove drop a load on each of the drivers from above.

Before he could drive more than five hundred meters away, several figures in black emerged from the forests on both sides, raising firearms and immediately pulling the triggers. The barrage turned the car into a beehive of bullet holes.

Boom!

A tremendous explosion erupted as an orange fireball rolled. Thick black smoke rose, and fierce flames completely engulfed the vehicle.

The contract killers didn’t leave immediately. They needed to see the body. Their target was a mage, and an explosion didn’t necessarily mean death. They had to confirm with their own eyes.

Bang!

The twisted car door was violently thrown off. Under the killers’ horrified stares, a skeleton in black armor strode out of the flames.

Wayne touched his smoke-wreathed skull, his lower jawbone moving as he exclaimed, “You scared me to death! I thought I was going to die.”