CHAPTER 154: CHAPTER 154: CEREMONY_1

In the dim and icy hall, a massive black iron spiked arc insignia stood atop a platform in the center. A black stone pillar rose in the middle, and candelabra at each corner were lit with Blood Candles. The eerie crimson light they emanated illuminated a woman—or more precisely—a Sacrifice, bound upon the altar.

Standing before the Sacrifice was a woman holding a short rod.

She wore a skull helmet emblazoned with the spiked arc insignia. Her attire was scant; only two strips of cloth covered key areas, accentuating her enticing figure.

On either side of the altar stood two men, each donning matching black iron helmets and bare-chested.

Both were tall and muscular, their claw-shaped weapons in hand exhibiting terrifying strength.

Peculiarly, their exposed skin bore many scars. Some had healed, leaving only scar tissue, while many more were fresh wounds that strangely did not bleed.

Beneath the platform gathered numerous followers. Among them were Bureaucrats from Ovando City, or rather, affluent Rich Merchants and powerful elites. Their mere presence at this ceremony signified their considerable resources and status.

The ritual was already underway. The woman fed the Sacrifice a vial of dark purple Potion. Waving her rod, the Blood Candles at the four corners flickered unexpectedly in the windless chamber as a force imperceptible to ordinary people descended upon the world.

The Sacrifice, previously unconscious due to the Mesmerizing Fragrance, began to tremble violently. Her expression started to twist in agony even in her unconscious state, and intense fear roused her from her stupor.

It seemed that even the potent effects of the Mesmerizing Fragrance could not withstand this mind-usurping Sorcery.

The Ascension Sect sought physical Ascension. Their Sacrifices were not intended for mere torment, yet only souls filled with pain and despair could complete the ritual and draw down the Blessing.

The Heretic Priest incessantly employed Sorcery to torment the Sacrifice’s mind, subjecting her to inhumane physical torture in an attempt to draw the god’s gaze swiftly.

The Sacrifice could no longer endure the torment and died from heart failure.

The two Warriors then carved open the Sacrifice’s mangled body, extracting the still-beating heart.

Bizarrely, no blood flowed from the massive wound on the Sacrifice’s body.

Meanwhile, the heart swelled and turned dark purple, looking nothing like a normal human heart.

Placing the heart upon the erected square stone platform, blood oozed from it, dripping into the groove below. As the blood flowed, it gradually filled the indentation, revealing the evil cult’s triple-spike insignia.

At that moment, the Priest trembled as if sensing something. She suddenly raised her hands and chanted loudly towards the unseen void.

"Holy Ascension Church..."

An eerie power descended from the Void. The heart, long separated from the body, began to beat again—or rather, to undulate with breath-like motions—slowly twisting into a fist-sized, purple-black fleshy tumor.

Upon seeing this, the numerous followers below—many of whom were not just immensely wealthy but also influential figures—felt an intense desire burst forth.

They craved to consume it... to merge with it... to step onto the path of Ascension...

But they were not destined to be the protagonists of tonight’s events.

Suddenly, a group of people barged into the hall, interrupting the ceremony.

The Priest immediately noticed the unwelcome intruders. Discerning from the bloodstains on them that they were formidable, she promptly swung her staff.

"Kill them! Offer them as Sacrifices to the god!"

The two Heretic Warriors, caring for nothing else, hurriedly leaped off the altar and charged towards the squad.

The lingering effects of the earlier ceremony had not yet subsided, and the Heretics below also erupted with a fervent desire to fight, charging towards the squad.

Lance paid little attention to the Heretic Mob. His gaze swiftly moved from the Sacrifice, whose chest had been ripped open and abdomen excavated, to lock directly onto the three peculiar figures on the altar.

He recognized the danger posed by the woman and immediately cautioned his companions,

"Be careful of that woman! Prioritize clearing out the Heretics—leave no one alive!"

Before Lance could react further, the Mobs charged, compelling him to deal with these attackers first.

In the spacious hall, his weapon of choice became a Longsword. Each swing cleaved bodies in two.

"Feel the bite of bullets!" Dismas finished reloading. In a place like this, there was no need to worry about the sound of gunfire, so he promptly pulled the trigger at the Mob.

SHOTGUN BLAST!

This time, he had loaded it not with single slugs but with fine lead pellets—scatter bullets.

It proved extremely effective against such a large mass of enemies. Harrowing screams immediately erupted within its wide cone of fire.

"Charge! Drive back the darkness!" Reynard, witnessing this desecration, became enraged and charged at the Heretics.

Reynard, who had originally been at the rear, executed a powerful Thrust with his Longsword, skewering two enemies as if they were candied haws on a stick. Then, with a flick to withdraw his blade, he dashed into the crowd to wreak havoc.

He lacked Lance’s exaggerated visual flair, but his efficiency was no less, as souls perished under his Sword Blade with every movement.

"Hunting time, my girl," William whistled. Fergus, eagerly awaiting this moment, lunged out, baring her fangs at the enemies.

The Heretics, having come to attend the ritual unarmed and being mostly unskilled in combat, stood no chance in this one-sided slaughter and were quickly routed.

Lance kicked aside a corpse whose torso had been nearly hacked in two and raised his Longsword to block a weapon thrusting at him from the side.

CLANG!

The sound of metal clashing echoed.

A Heretic Warrior had found him.

"Be careful with these guys!"

The very moment their swords clashed, Lance realized something was amiss. Few could withstand his strength, yet this opponent had held his ground.

But Lance showed no fear. His heart pumped and muscles tensed as he unleashed tremendous power, pressing the opponent back.

And Lance was never one to adhere to chivalrous codes of combat. In that instant, while gripping his sword in one hand, his other suddenly brandished a pistol.

At this range, there was no need to aim; the moment he drew it, he pulled the trigger.

BANG!

A muzzle flash erupted between them. Amid the explosion, the shell shot forth, unerringly boring into the Heretic Warrior’s body.

Yet the bullet did not have the intended impact. The Heretic Warrior merely stumbled before regaining his stance. While no one could see the expression hidden behind his mask, he was undoubtedly furious.

Lance hadn’t held high expectations for the effect of this bullet. He knew these Heretics specialized in enhancing their physical resilience; unless a vital spot was hit, it was difficult to kill them with a single shot. Since these warriors wore helmets, he could only target their torsos.

However, Lance had no intention of stopping. The significant opening created by the shot already allowed him to swing his Longsword once more, slashing down at his foe.