touchnovel Chapter 374, Section 373: The Living Corpse and the Priest
Chapter 374, Section 373: The Living Corpse and the Priest
Chapter 374, Section 373: The Living Corpse and the Priest
The spiral staircase seemed to have no end.
The raven that Ian had transformed into silently followed, always remaining in the shadows thirty paces away. His raven eyes could not only see, but also secretly cast a kind of hidden magic called "Path Mark"—every seven steps he took, he left an almost invisible silver rune in the air, as if marking a certain pattern.
This is a testament to the saying "a ship sails at the foot of the sea." Ian was always prepared for unexpected events. He noticed that the distribution of moss on the wall was not random—there was a particularly dense area every seven steps.
These mosses do not grow naturally; every seven steps there is a particularly dense clump, slightly oval in shape, with a faint fluorescent glow at the edges.
The combination resembles a counting method, or it signifies something being born, and it relates to the number seven, which is a magical artifact in the Harry Potter world.
At the end of the spiral staircase, a chilling, damp air, carrying a strange, cloying stench of decay, assaulted the senses. The ghost bride dragged the priest's ankle, leaving a winding trail of blood on the moss-covered stone steps. The priest's white robes were already tattered; his withered fingers dug intently into the cracks of the stone steps, oblivious to the splitting nails.
"No...please...I can do so much for you, I am very useful..." The priest's voice was hoarse and barely audible, his single eye bloodshot.
The ghost bride remained unresponsive, her red wedding gown gleaming crimson in the shadows. Her steps were mechanical and precise, each one landing precisely on the densest patch of moss. Ian, in his raven form, glided silently, his sharp eyes taking in every detail—the pattern formed by the moss was clearly an inverted Eye of Horus.
"Forty-nine..." Ian counted silently in his mind. When the seventh seven-step was completed, the view suddenly opened up and the stairs finally came to an end.
A colossal gate inlaid with human bones stands at the end. The gate frame is pieced together from seven different types of bones—ribs forming a spiral pattern, and finger bones arranged in hieroglyphics.
The most chilling thing is the doorknob: in the center of the two crossed femurs, a vivid human eyeball is moving, and an eerie light of intelligence shines through the contraction of the pupil.
This kind of setup doesn't look like something a respectable place should have.
"I swear! I swear allegiance! I can write new scriptures for you! I can summon all the priests to submit! Please—do not devour me! I am still useful! I am still useful—!"
The priest's voice echoed down the narrow staircase, but no one answered. Only the ghost bride's light, breezy footsteps and the rustling of her wedding dress trailing on the ground could be heard.
Like the whisper of death.
Under the watchful eye of the hidden Ian.
The ghost bride stopped in her tracks.
She released the priest, extended her pale fingers, and her nails suddenly grew three inches long, slicing open her wrist like a blade. Dark blue blood dripped onto her eyeballs.
His pupils suddenly contracted, followed by a muffled thud from inside the door as a mechanism turned.
"Witness...return..." The ghost bride's voice became layered, but Ian could tell that the third voice in the crashing sound was the high-pitched tone of the embryo.
The door slowly opened inward, emitting a grating metallic scraping sound, like a tomb that had not been opened for many years, from which thick darkness surged forth as if alive.
The ghost bride grabbed the limp priest and stepped inside.
The raven that Ian had transformed into spread its wings, gliding along the shadows of the wall until it finally landed on an ancient bronze chandelier in the corner. The chandelier had long been extinguished and was covered in verdigris, but it had become the perfect "branch" for him to hide on. He concealed his aura, his consciousness sinking into the gap between reality and illusion, ensuring that he would not be detected by any being.
Inside the door lay an enormous underground hall, the sight of which made even the most knowledgeable wizard tremble with fear.
In the center of the hemispherical cellar, a golden fleshy egg, as tall as a three-story building, floats, its surface covered with blood vessels pulsating in a rhythmic fashion. Seven thick golden chains extend from the egg, connecting to seven crystal skull containers, each containing a brain submerged in a golden liquid.
The dome was immeasurably high, from which hung hundreds of dried-up corpses, like upside-down bats, their skin as dry as paper, their limbs twisted, yet still uttering low chants. Their voices merged into an eerie chorus, like an ancient prayer, yet belonging to no known language.
On the ground, hundreds of mummified corpses knelt in concentric circles, their empty eye sockets all facing the fleshy egg, their jaws opening and closing mechanically, emitting a unified chanting sound. Most chillingly, the hollows on the foreheads of these mummified corpses—where tattoos should have symbolized a third eye—were now inlaid with tiny golden buds of flesh, writhing in rhythm with the chanting. All the mummified corpses were praying in the same spot, and in the center of the hall floated a golden embryo.
It was about three meters tall, oval-shaped, and its surface was covered with flowing golden patterns that pulsated like veins. It had no facial features, yet it gave the impression of "gazing"—as if the entire space was within its perception. Surrounding it were twelve mummified corpses.
He was wearing a tattered high priest's robe.
He appears to be of high status.
All of them had their hands raised high, palms facing upwards, releasing streams of eerie green magical light that guided the entire ceremony.
Ian's pupils contracted slightly—these mummies were not completely dead, but had been transformed by some kind of evil magic into embryonic "living priests."
With the priests of the sun god in place, the embryonic evil god created its own priests in its own way. They needed no faith, no will, only to become conduits of energy.
Very efficient.
And they seem to be absolutely loyal.
What's even more chilling is that different ghost brides keep pouring into the hall from all directions. They come in all shapes and sizes—some are dressed in school uniforms, some are draped in dancer's gowns, and some are even just the corpses of young girls wrapped in white cloth—but their eyes are all burning red, and they all drag black coffins in their hands.
The coffins were opened one by one.
Inside were not dwellings, but living people.
There were ordinary citizens, wandering wizards, scholars, and craftsmen—they all wore labels, written in blood-red ink, indicating the extraordinary abilities each of them possessed.
They were forcibly dragged out of the coffin and thrown to the ground. Some screamed, some struggled, and some roared and questioned:
"Who are you?! Where is this?!"
"Let me go! I am a registered wizard of the Twilight Hermits! You will be judged!"
"This—this is underground in the temple?! Are you all insane?!"
No one responded. The mummified priests simply continued their chanting, while the ghost brides indifferently pushed them to the center.
In an instant, the twelve mummified priests simultaneously raised their hands, their palms shooting out eerie green beams of light that intertwined to form a massive energy net that enveloped all the living sacrifices.
Their bodies began to glow, and golden patterns emerged beneath their skin, mirroring the patterns on the surface of the embryos. Their life force, magical affinity, and soul essence were being forcibly extracted and transformed into golden streams of light, continuously flowing into the embryos.
Screams echoed throughout the room.
Some tried to resist, unleashing magic, but the magic was swallowed up by the energy net the moment it coalesced. Others tried to escape, only to find their legs as heavy as lead.
It cannot move an inch.
In just a few seconds.
The bodies of all the sacrificial offerings began to dry out, their skin shrank, their eyes sunken, and they eventually turned into dried-up corpses, which were dragged away by the ghost brides.
Hanging on the dome, they become the new "reciters".
"After their life essence is absorbed, the remaining corpses are transformed into zombie believers? Hiss~" Ian couldn't help but be shocked by the golden embryo's twisted mind and cruel will.
"Aaaaaah—!"
?
A piercing scream interrupted Ian's thoughts. Ian turned his head and saw another ghost bride dragging a black coffin into the cellar.
When she opened the coffin lid, she found five living people huddled inside, bound by iron chains. Each person had a papyrus label pasted on their forehead: "Astrologer," "Herbalist," and "Master Architect."
The dry animals suddenly turned collectively towards the newly arrived sacrifices. With eerie coordination, they rose, their bony claws seizing the struggling living people and dragging them to seven specific locations around the fleshy eggs. One young woman struggled frantically, shouting at the scepter priest, "Save us! Aren't you the high priest?!"
The priest with the scepter collapsed to the ground, his lips trembling but unable to utter a word. The men pressed the offerings onto the grooved stone slabs, their bone claws slicing across their foreheads. The instant blood gushed forth, the flesh eggs suddenly contracted violently, and the seven golden chains taut. Ian clearly saw strands of blue energy being drawn from the foreheads of the offerings, flowing along the grooves carved into the ground towards the flesh eggs.
"No...no..." The astrologer's eyes quickly dimmed. "I can see...that's..."
Her last words came to an abrupt end.
All the sacrifices stiffened simultaneously, their skin drying out at a visible rate until they became mummified corpses indistinguishable from their surroundings. Their foreheads began to bulge, tiny golden buds of flesh bursting from their skin. Having witnessed two sacrifices in succession, the priest with the scepter finally broke down. He scrambled to the flesh eggs, kowtowing frantically.
"No—no—I am not a sacrifice! I am a priest! I am the high priest of the temple! I can serve you! Great God! Please! I can be your high priest! I can manage the believers for you! I can write oracles for you! I know all the secrets of the temple! I can help you obtain more sacrifices!"
He knelt on the ground, his forehead hitting the ground, blood streaming down his face.
"I am willing to offer my soul! My knowledge! My everything! Just let me live! Let me be your most loyal servant!"
This person truly didn't want to die, much less become a sacrifice. Because their magic was sealed, they missed the optimal time for suicide; now, even the desire to die directly was a pipe dream for this scepter priest.
Just now, when he was in the upper temple outside, he still had the opportunity to choose death and accept the protection of the laws of the underworld to enter the underworld. However, it was obvious that the scepter priest himself gave up the protection and guidance and wanted to stay in the human world to plot resurrection. This has resulted in him having no chance at all now.
It can only be said that the priest of the scepter acted out of his own volition.
of course.
There are also many innocent people who Ian wants to save, but he knows nothing about the ghost bride and the evil god that was conceived. Acting rashly could even cost him his life.
Although transforming into a raven grants immunity to magic and divine arts, this is merely something Ian had previously concluded. He is unsure whether evil magic can affect the raven's body, which is also an evil creature.
In Ian's observation room.
He could see countless souls being absorbed into the golden embryo, becoming part of the evil god within it, and not perishing. Therefore, as long as the problem could be solved, those souls could still be saved.
Ian is not a Gryffindor.
Lacking a reckless and righteous personality, he could only do the right thing as much as possible while ensuring his own safety, and then formulate a plan after gathering enough information.
The priest with the scepter was still frantically begging for mercy.
The golden embryo remained suspended, motionless. It did not respond, showed no emotion, and did not even "listen"—it simply existed, like the center of the universe, with all things serving as its nourishment.
A dying wizard lay on the ground, using his last strength to lift his head and stare at the scepter priest, his voice hoarse: "Fool, don't you understand yet?"
The priest with the scepter was taken aback.
"You...you priests...the god you're creating—" Blood trickled from the wizard's lips, yet he wore a mocking smile, "It doesn't need you—it doesn't need any 'servants.' It wants everything to be a part of it." He gasped, the last sentence almost inaudible.
"It—is its own—priest—its own believer—its own god—" Before he could finish speaking, his body completely withered, turning into a dried corpse, and was dragged away by the ghost bride.
The priest with the scepter was stunned.
He finally understood.
They thought they were creating a god, but in reality they were nurturing an all-consuming being. This embryo needs no faith, for it is the very end of faith; it needs no priests, for it can transform all life into its extension; it needs no believers, for it wants the entire world to become its "body."
It is not a "god," but an anti-god—an ultimate being that refuses to be defined, worshipped, or separated. It does not seek domination, but integration.
"No!"
The priest of the staff found this situation unacceptable.
He realized a most serious problem, one he had consistently overlooked. The artificial sun god project was indeed progressing smoothly, but the sun god embryo was misinterpreting the meaning of the sun shining on all things! This was a reverse understanding—making all things part of the "sun"! He and the other priests had ultimately botched the experiment!
It was as if to verify the information that the scepter priest and Ian had received at the same time.
A newly transformed mummified corpse slowly turned its head, its empty eye sockets "staring" at the priest, its jaw opening and closing to emit a hoarse voice: "No need... to serve... all things... are me..."
This was clearly the embryo expressing its will through the living corpse. This statement was like a final death knell. The priest of the scepter stared blankly around, suddenly noticing that the fleshy buds on the foreheads of all the mummies were pointing in the same direction—with each sacrifice transformed, the control network of the fleshy egg expanded further.
"So that's how it is..." An old wizard who had been dragged in from the corner laughed bitterly, "What you created is not a god at all, but a plague! It wants to turn all life into a part of itself!"
The priest of the scepter was struck dumb. He suddenly remembered the warning in the ancient texts.
The false god devours, the true god blesses.
This was supposed to be the first commandment, strictly forbidden, but now the priest of the staff realized it was the truth. But it was too late; the seven demon brides had already surrounded them.
Their red wedding gowns fluttered without wind, revealing their desiccated bodies beneath.
"No...you can't..."
The priest with the scepter retreated in despair until his back pressed against the fleshy egg. Sensing the touch of a living creature, the egg suddenly split open, and countless golden threads, like tentacles, shot out, instantly piercing the priest's seven orifices. The priest's scream turned into a grotesque shriek. His eyeballs bulged, and his pupils reflected the horrifying truth in their final moments.
The embryo was essentially a species with the face of a sun god but without any humanity.