CHAPTER 156: CHAPTER 156: SEED CEREMONY_1

The Priest’s death didn’t bring Lance much comfort. Instead, he gazed at the bizarre growth with a grave expression.

What on earth is this thing?

"My Lord! There’s one still alive."

Reynard’s voice came through. After slaying the heretical aberrant warrior, he had begun checking the Heretics who had fallen to the ground. Years of combat experience told him that fallen enemies weren’t safe; only dead ones could offer true reassurance.

Sure enough, he found a Heretic who had been shot but hadn’t died. The shotgun’s chamber pressure was low, its power somewhat lacking. Coupled with his corpulent body, the thick layers of fat had absorbed some of the damage. Consequently, he hadn’t died on the spot but had been lying on the ground, feigning death.

Upon seeing this, Lance immediately came over. Recognizing the man, he blurted out, "Gene!"

The fat man, hearing his name called, hastily looked up at Lance but realized he didn’t recognize this person at all. Still, words of pleading for mercy slipped out.

"My Lord, I have money! I can give you money!"

"Shut up. Now tell me, what are you all doing here?"

"My Lord, I understand! I haven’t seen anything! I don’t know anything!"

"Dammit! Are you playing dumb when I’m asking you a question? Do you want to be taken to the Judiciary?" Lance showed no courtesy, kicking the man directly on his gunshot wound.

"AH!" The kick caused Gene to cry out in pain, writhing like a fat catfish.

He had initially assumed the question was about whether he had seen *them*, so he had subconsciously denied it; after all, only by claiming not to have seen them could he hope to survive. How could he have known they were actually asking about the ritual itself?

"I’ll talk, I’ll talk! We were creating a Seed."

Through Gene’s words, the ritual process was roughly described—a twisted and cruel act that language could barely convey, leaving the listeners outraged.

My Lord was right; these Heretics deserved death!

But Lance, upon hearing this, frowned and pressed on, "This isn’t a Blessing ritual?"

"No, we usually don’t gather like this. For a newcomer’s Blessing ritual, only the person introducing them is present. Today’s ceremony was to create a Seed."

"Seed?" Lance pondered the term, then turned to look at the growth. "You mean that thing?"

"Yes." Gene also looked toward the growth. A trace of uncontrollable greed appeared in his eyes, his face showing a look of adoration. "The Priest said that only by merging with the Seed can one shed frail human flesh and embark on the path of Ascension. This way, they gain tremendous strength and an undying body, just like the Ascended Warriors."

Listening to his rambling, Lance said with slight discontent, "And then that one was cut down by my sword, wasn’t he?"

Lance’s icy words instantly snapped Gene back to reality. His gaze involuntarily shifted to the Ascended Warrior lying there like muddy sludge, making him realize just how hideously deformed it was.

At that moment, as if awakened, he understood what he had been doing all this time, and terror crept over his face.

"Oh, Holy Light!"

"Do you often engage in these kinds of things?" Lance kicked him again to bring him to his senses, his own expression growing impatient.

He didn’t have much time. If this place were discovered, countless sheriffs would surround it.

"No, the cultivation of a Seed is very cumbersome. The sacrifices must be prepared in advance, so spots are limited. I heard an Ascended being died in this area, which is why they needed to select new believers to undergo Ascension."

Lance’s expression turned strange as he heard this. Could it be that after he offed the sheriff in the small town, the Ascension Sect decided to create another, holding this Seed cultivation ritual, which unexpectedly lured him here? It all formed a closed loop now. The sheriff probably hadn’t told him the whole truth back then. What he’d received from the Preacher wasn’t just a promise, but also a Seed. The difference was that the sheriff had just fused with it and wasn’t yet accustomed to it, while the two Ascended Warriors he faced earlier must have completed their fusion.

"You seem to know quite a lot, buddy. It looks like you hold a notable position within the evil cult. So, do you know who I am?"

"No, no, I’m not really acquainted with them. I just sell them some grain." As he spoke, Gene looked up at Lance and then slowly shook his head; he truly hadn’t seen these people before.

"I am the current boss of the Walter Conglomerate."

Lance grinned. To Gene, however, this answer struck him with overwhelming terror.

He had spent a lot of money to bribe York and was just waiting for good news. Once the Walter Conglomerate was swallowed up, no one in Ovando City would be able to compete with him. But he hadn’t expected the news that York had disappeared, along with his entire family. At the same time, word came that Walter was alive, and the conglomerate had mysteriously received a batch of grain to overcome its difficulties. While he was still thinking of investigating, trouble struck his own warehouse, diverting most of his attention. Now it all made sense—behind Walter was...

The Longsword swung, and Gene’s head flew off. Lance didn’t even bother to look, casually delegating tasks.

"Search the surrounding area. Find any Heretics who might be hiding, and of course, their treasury."

Dismas and the others split up, while Lance quickly cleaned up the site, sacrificing everything to convert it into experience points that flowed into his body.

The experience points yielded by Ascension Cultists who had fused with the Seed were at least five times those of ordinary followers, but they were far harder to deal with than five such followers combined. He put the Seed into a box. Although he was very tempted to Sacrifice it and try it out, there was only one. He felt it was better to keep it for study.

"Found it!"

Dismas’s voice came through, and the others quickly went over.

Lance had thought there would at least be some secret, trapped chamber for storing such valuables, but it turned out to be just a room extending from the back of the main hall.

The door lock had already been picked by Dismas. As they pushed open the door, they saw stacks of neatly placed boxes.

Opening the boxes revealed Gold Coins, their glitter filling the room with a golden light in the candlelight.

Gold Coins, a whole box full of them. It was the first time William had seen such a sight; his expression went blank, and his breathing quickened involuntarily.

Opening the other boxes, they found most contained Gold Coins, with some delicate little boxes holding precious jewelry.

Although they didn’t count them one by one, Lance estimated the contents were worth at least tens of thousands of Gold Coins—and that was a conservative estimate.

Even Walter, who had struggled for half his life, didn’t have that much cash in his accounts. Yet these cultists had placed it here so carelessly. It just showed that in their pursuit of Ascension, they no longer had much need for such material things. Lance and his companions, however, had seen so much that they barely reacted. After all, the evil cult belonged to his ancestor. As the Heir, what belonged to the ancestor was his. So, these things were rightfully his. Why get excited about taking my own money?