Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 21: Good News, The Ceremony Went Very Smoothly

Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Upon hearing the content of the prayer recited by the cult priest, Duncan immediately stopped his attempt to sever his soul projection and return to the Homeloss.

He looked at the mask-wearing priest who had just finished the fanatical prayer as if he was staring at a fool. He watched the priest raise a small dagger, seemingly carved out of obsidian, high into the air. He observed the believers surrounding the altar get excited, chanting in unison the name of their “lord,” the “true Sun God” said to have fallen and shattered many years ago in legend.

They intended to offer him, their “sacrifice,” to the Sun God, specifically by offering the sacrifice’s heart.

Now Duncan finally understood the grisly scene he had witnessed in that cave earlier, realizing the mad and sinister acts of these heretics.

Then, he saw the mask-wearing priest take a step towards him, the surface of the raised obsidian dagger in the priest’s hand suddenly emanating a layer of pitch-black flames.

This eye-catching supernatural phenomenon instantly piqued Duncan’s curiosity. He speculated whether this dagger was also some sort of “anomalous” item, whether the priest before him was a “special human” capable of wielding transcendent powers, how many special beings like this existed in this world’s civilized society, and what social roles they might play.

Meanwhile, with an expressionless face, he watched as the dagger, burning with black flames, stabbed down, plunging straight into his chest with a hollow thud, as if piercing through several layers of tattered cloth.

The flames burned inside for a moment but caught nothing.

Behind him, on the totem pillar, the burning fireball suddenly emitted a series of alarming crackles and pops. Mixed within those sounds seemed to be a tearing, dizzying noise. Duncan faintly felt as if something was spreading out from that fireball—an icy and crazed “touch.” He struggled to describe the sensation, not only because of the dull senses of the body he was temporarily occupying but also because it was beyond any experience he had ever had. He only knew one thing: in this world where transcendent phenomena truly existed, the sacrifice ritual being conducted by the priest before him had undoubtedly encountered major trouble.

The anomaly that occurred on the totem pillar, “symbolizing the sun,” immediately caught the attention of the closest believers. Accompanied by a few suppressed exclamations, the scene quickly quieted down from its frenzy. Even the two figures in dark robes who had been firmly restraining Duncan’s arms seemed as if they were deterred by something, releasing him in terror and kneeling down before the totem pillar with reverence. Even the obsidian dagger-wielding priest froze in place, maintaining the gesture of holding the blade while staring intently at the face of the “sacrifice.” Through the holes in his mask, Duncan could see a pair of eyes engulfed in confusion and chaos.

Duncan twisted his stiff mouth into a grotesque smile, slowly raised his right hand, and rested it on the priest’s hand that clutched the obsidian dagger. Threads of green flames flowed like water, infiltrating and slowly winding around the dagger.

Almost instantly, Duncan felt a “feedback” from the dagger, but strangely, this feedback felt weak and hollow, as if the dagger were a mere imitation, an empty shell housing only a trace of “borrowed power.”

But to him, whether the dagger was an imitation did not matter.

He smiled at the priest, saying in a leisurely tone, “I have two things to say.”

The next moment, the priest felt the connection between himself and the obsidian dagger abruptly disrupted by some external force. His sincere and fanatical faith in the Sun God seemed to have smashed against an impenetrable barrier as if directly severed.

“First, I am a broad-minded person—see, this broad.”

Duncan tore off the already tattered cloth, now further slit by the dagger, revealing a ghastly gaping hole. Through the terrible hole, the priest officiating the sacrifice ceremony could even clearly see the scene behind Duncan.

“Second, try to avoid offering your lord expired food.”

Duncan gently pushed the priest’s hand away. For some reason, after he entwined the obsidian dagger with the green flames of his spiritual body, the priest seemed to have lost much of his strength, allowing Duncan’s now frail and powerless body to easily push the large and strong priest away.

After being pushed back, the priest seemed to snap back to reality, engulfed by immense terror and anger. His muscles quivering, he pointed at Duncan as if a loud shouting would restore order to the ritual site: “A resurrected abomination! This is a resurrected wraith! You have desecrated this sacred sacrifice! Abomination… Who is the audacious necromancer behind you?! Are you not afraid of the Sun’s might?!”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Duncan glanced at the obsidian dagger held in his hand, feeling the weak feedback from it as he casually spoke. Then he looked up at the priest before him, listening to the popping noises coming from behind at the totem pillar, when a bold and brilliant idea suddenly struck him, “But I do have a sudden urge to satisfy my curiosity.”

Having said that, he suddenly raised the obsidian dagger in his hand, pointing it at the mask-wearing priest and loudly declared in front of a group of black-robed believers who were still in a state of chaos and panic:

“O most high and holy Sun God! Please accept this sacrifice upon the altar! I offer you the heart of this offering, may you return from blood and fire!”

The next second, he saw the flames burst forth from the obsidian knife, and the cold sensation that had been spreading from the totem behind him suddenly drew back and aimed at the masked priest not far away. Duncan saw the priest’s eyes fill with terror, as if he wanted to leave the altar at once, but the knife was faster—

The knife flew out of Duncan’s hand, drawn by some invisible force, wrapped in blazing black flames and entwined with a faint green fire, and pierced straight into the priest’s chest. With a shrill scream, the chest of the cult leader was punctured, and his heart turned to ashes in an instant.

The next second, the knife was back in Duncan’s hand, and with this back and forth action, the bit of power contained within it seemed to have finally drained completely.

It was known that within the range of the cult’s sacrificial altar were two people: one with a heart, one without. And a certain Evil God today definitely wanted a human heart to taste—so, who would lose their heart?

Obviously, it would be the one who has a heart.

Even if this logic held, the smoothness of the whole affair still exceeded Duncan’s expectations. He couldn’t believe that his wildly imaginative “trial” would actually work. It wasn’t until he saw the cult priest fall that he turned his head to look at the now peaceful totem behind him and muttered in a strange tone, “So as long as the words are right, anyone can provide the offering?”

The fireball atop the totem would, of course, not answer his question, but the heretics around the altar had by this time clearly come to their senses. A great panic was inevitable, yet amidst the chaos, there were fervent believers who erupted in anger—an anger that even surpassed the fear they felt when the totem had shown ominous signs!

A few heretics closest to the altar were the first to react, rushing towards Duncan and chanting the name of the Sun God. These boldest of believers soon spurred on many more, and a large group of robed figures charged mindlessly forward, some even drawing short swords and daggers hidden beneath their robes.

Duncan had actually planned to shout “I sacrifice the hearts of everyone on the altar to the Sun God” to test the appetite of this bizarre Evil God, but when he saw that some of the charging heretics were even pulling revolvers from their bosoms, he immediately discarded the idea. Considering the time it took for the ritual to take effect and the “seven steps to swift and sure” rule, he flipped off the group of heretics in a neat and tidy fashion and severed his soul projection state.

Let those maniacs go crazy. He was going back to the Homeloss.

At the same time, on the vast Endless Sea, rhythmic footsteps sounded on the deck of the Homeloss.

The automaton Alice, dressed in a lavish Gothic gown, left her room and came to the captain’s cabin door.

The exquisite wooden box was not following behind the doll this time; she had left it inside her room.

The captain had said she was free to move around the lower deck cabins, walk about on the deck, and if there was anything she didn’t understand, she could come directly to the captain’s cabin to find him.

Alice remembered this very clearly.

(Time to recommend a book! The first recommendation for this book comes from writer Shanxia Xiaodaoren’s “The Lazy Prince of the Great Ming Dynasty”. Here’s the blurb:

Zhu Yijing, the grandson of Emperor Zhengde of the Great Ming Dynasty and the biological son of Empress Dowager Kangning, looked at his proud elder brother, his judicious second brother, and his impassive, inscrutable mother… Hmm, it seems he doesn’t have much to do?

Thus, the young man comfortably donned the hat of disgrace that is the transmigrator and began his salty fish life of idleness and waiting for death.

Until a bowl of chicken soup came his way.

“Ahahaha! Here comes the chicken soup!”)

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