Chapter 2: New Century (Epilogue)
Chapter 470: The Winterbreaking Hall
The moment they saw the large doors, the Players started calculating how much money they could get from selling them after dismantling them into pieces.
Balner and Platyr were unaware of the Players’ thoughts. They walked to the front of the main doors and placed their palms in the grooves on either side. The dragon heads on the doors rotated towards the Players. Their dragon eyes lit up.
“Click—” The large doors swung open inwards.
The interior was brightly lit, resembling a church hall. Light shone through stained-glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of shadows in the dim hall. Rows of chairs were neatly arranged below a raised platform. Seated on them were mysterious figures wearing white masks. On the platform lay a maiden, naked, on an iron bed. A clergyman in red, wearing a crown, stood before the iron bed, holding a Gospel. He was mumbling incomprehensible incantations.
The opening of the doors did not attract the attention of the people in the hall. The Cardinal on the platform merely glanced up before continuing his recitation from the Gospel. Balner turned to the Players and made a shushing gesture, his expression grave. Although the Players were curious, they kept their mouths shut tightly for the mission’s success, silently awaiting developments.
After a while, the Cardinal’s chanting grew louder. The mysterious figures in white masks straightened their backs, seemingly caught up in the Cardinal’s fervor, their emotions reaching a climax. Just as the Players thought the Cardinal was about to unleash some powerful divine magic, his chanting abruptly stopped. He then pulled a knife from his ceremonial robe and, as if slaughtering a chicken, plunged it into the maiden on the iron bed.
This scene enraged the Players, who nearly rushed forward to save the maiden. However, a word from Nobody Does Human Things doused their impulse with cold water.
[Don’t be impulsive. That Demi-human is already dead. Didn’t you notice there’s no HP Bar? The best way to get revenge now is to lie low, gain the trust of this wretched Winterbreaking Organization, and settle the score later.]
His words were an eye-opener, and the Players forced themselves to calm down. They used Appraisal technique repeatedly to confirm that the Demi-elf on the iron bed, being bled by the Cardinal, was indeed dead.
“You are very lucky today,” Balner said with a smile, speaking in a low voice. “This is our Winterbreaking Organization’s transformation ritual. I’ve only seen it a few times. Strive hard, and perhaps you can become one of those people in the white masks in the future.”
As he spoke, the Cardinal scooped up a bowl of blood and drank it down, a look of ecstasy on his face. Throughout this process, the Demi-human maiden’s blood dripped from the iron bed into a silver basin below. Sounds of gulping could be heard all around. Player Name felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced around and saw that the mysterious figures in white masks were all staring at the Cardinal with fanatical longing in their eyes, or rather, longing for the bowl of blood.
The protagonist of today’s transformation ritual was clearly not the Cardinal. After drinking the first bowl of blood, a hint of blood seemed to color his cold pupils. Then, with a swift motion, he cut the major arteries in the maiden’s limbs. More blood poured out, filling the silver basin, and the bloody stench gradually spread throughout the hall.
This process lasted for about half an hour. Everyone waited in silence until the blood on the iron bed congealed, and not a single drop dripped into the silver basin. The Cardinal picked up the silver basin, which was half-filled with Demi-human blood. The blood was a vibrant red, as dazzling as a rose, symbolizing the maiden’s extinguished life. He placed the silver basin back on the iron bed. Then, he took out a pile of bottles and jars from his robes and, seemingly haphazardly yet precisely, added various alchemical reagents to the silver basin in proportion. The blood in the basin turned the color of the deep night, emitting an unpleasant odor.
“The potion required for the transformation ritual has been prepared,” Balner chuckled sinisterly. “The birth of a Templar Knight requires more than one transformation ritual. However, the more rituals one undergoes, the greater the chance of successful transformation. Of course, there are also cases of one-time success, indicating a strong match with the blood of this batch of Demi-humans and a high degree of absorption… Look, it’s about to begin…”
The Cardinal then produced a device resembling a syringe. Compared to modern syringes, this device was a Colossus, as thick as an adult’s arm. Its needle was like a razor, stained with traces of blood, making ‘killing tool’ a more fitting description. At this moment, a mysterious figure in a white mask stepped forward to the Cardinal. It was not apparent when he was seated. Only when the mysterious figure revealed his full stature did the Players notice his extraordinary height. In the Cain Continent, being strong and tall signified a solid foundation of resources. It was evident that these mysterious figures, even if not of noble birth, were at least well-off.
“Child, are you ready?” This was the first time the Players heard the Cardinal speak human words since entering the hall. His voice was not the raspy, unpleasant sound they expected of a demon, but rather, as gentle as a father’s. However, this voice, contrasted with the Cardinal’s cold gaze and the bloody, evil surroundings, felt absurd, incongruous, and sickening.
“Lord, I am ready,” the mysterious figure’s voice was very young, tinged with excitement and fervor. The Players could easily imagine that behind the white mask was the face of a handsome young man.
“Very good, turn around, my child,” the Cardinal smiled as he watched the youth turn around. He then gripped the syringe and plunged it fiercely into the boy’s spine.
“Ah—!” The intense pain caused the youth to let out a hoarse wail. Veins bulged on his hands, scratching two bloody marks on his armor. Yet, he tried his utmost to keep his body from moving wildly, for he was now receiving a divine blessing.
After a while, the ritual ended. The prepared blood had been fully injected into the youth’s spine. He knelt on the ground, breathless and covered in sweat, as if he had just been fished out of water.
“Lord, I did it…” he called out weakly, like a child seeking praise from his father.
“That’s right, Fland, you did it. You are a very talented child,” the Cardinal gently patted the youth’s head, a sudden joy bursting in his eyes. He exclaimed, “I can already feel the divine grace growing within you!”
As if to respond to the Cardinal’s expectations, the youth gripped his neck and made a guttural sound, collapsing onto the ground. His limbs twisted unnaturally as he convulsed violently.
Keke, kill.
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