Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

The cultists paid no mind to their dead companions; they stood there, eyeing Shard, with a faint semblance of encirclement. Relying on three Circle Sorcerers to even the odds against a True God Church squadron, Shard knew there must be something more formidable within the damp chapel, thus he wasn't confident enough to venture another attack.

Clinging to the only remaining fat merman priest, Shard glanced at Daknis and his companion. Naturally, they had sided with the mermen. However, Shard did not panic, the sea breeze coming from behind him indicated there was certainly a path beyond the stone wall:

"Everyone back off, or I can't guarantee I won't pull the trigger."

He spoke loudly. Since he had put on a mask before sneaking in wearing a robe, he wasn't afraid of being recognized.

The fat merman held hostage by Shard showed no intention of struggling at all. It continued to mutter prayers, as if Shard did not exist at all.

The Crimson Cult's cultists all looked at Shard as if he were a madman. But upon closer observation, Shard could see each of their lips moving as well—they were also praying.

A sudden sense of unease made Shard somewhat astonished:

"Are there any abnormal elemental traces?"

"Yes, look at the ground."

Looking down, the blood from the mermen, due to the recent attack and ensuing deaths, kept seeping downward, blending faintly with the patterns beneath the water's surface as it entered the dirty water on the ground.

With the droning prayer of the merman priest held by Shard, there was no need for a reminder by the sound next to his ear—the increasingly intense Desecration Element had already materialized into a silvery glimmer emanating from the ground.

Shard had a sudden realization:

"I killed them, effectively offering a sacrifice to the ritual... Could such a thing be? Wait, these guys, they didn't care about the manor being surrounded because they planned to commit suicide from the start?"

Realizing he could wait no longer, Shard clenched his teeth and pulled the trigger, ending the life of the still-praying old fishman with a single shot. The annoying droning prayer ceased abruptly, but the prayers of the remaining cultists suddenly grew louder.

Shard turned and ran towards the stone wall holding the Holy Emblem.

Escape by the same route was impossible; there was still a magician of unknown level in the wine cellar. Since there was wind blowing from a hole in the wall, there must be a way through.

"Don't let him escape!"

Voices came from behind, and although Shard couldn't see what was behind him, "she" could.

"Now is the time!"

"Lagre's Leap!"

The sorcery and arcane techniques aimed at his back missed their mark, striking the stone wall in front, opening up a rugged narrow path hidden behind, while the Holy Emblem of the Evil God rolled into the rubble.

Shard's figure appeared at a corner of the stone wall and then he furiously dove towards the narrow passage, neatly rolling into it.

"Quick, chase him!"

Daknis, probably wishing to gain favor from the cultists, was the quickest to reach the damaged chapel wall.

"Don't chase!"

But someone from behind called out to him. Turning around, he saw the only Six Rings Warlock among the group of cultists. It was he who had blocked Shard's Silvermoon Slash, preventing the situation from worsening.

"No need to chase."

He kneeled down and respectfully picked up the unscathed Holy Emblem from the pile of rubble. After kissing it, he handed it to a merman behind him.

Seeing Daknis puzzled, he frowned towards the dark depths of the rugged passage and explained:

"The path behind the wall could indeed lead outside; it was a channel we used to transport sensitive materials many years ago when we took over the manor. But when we abandoned the manor sixty years ago, a Scribe Level Relic was sealed inside, a Siren."

"Scribe-Level? Siren?"

The middle-aged man with red gloves immediately stepped back:

"Are you sure that man will definitely die at the hands of the Siren?"

"Of course. Although it is Scribe Level, it was sealed using... If it hasn't caused issues in sixty years, it's unclear what's happening inside now, even our church cannot tell. Since he has entered on his own, we needn't concern ourselves."

The man then looked sympathetically at the merman priest's body on the ground:

"We had planned to draw lots to determine who would perform the Self-Sacrifice... Nevermind, the ritual is complete and there are ten minutes until sunrise. Let's leave."

"Wait."

Daknis with his straw-yellow short hair extended a hand:

"What about what you promised me?"

The Six Rings Warlock gestured backwards, and a living merman immediately searched the body of a dead companion, retrieving a box. Handing over a brass ring from inside the box to Daknis, his face revealed an ecstatic expression.

"Spell Words."

The cultist cautioned, curious about what Daknis was planning to do.

"Of course—the transition from silence to muteness is the display of concealed power!"

Before everyone present, he took off his red gloves. After chanting some spell words, he slipped the ring onto his right hand's ring finger.

The skin on his palm wriggled and split open, revealing that dreadful mouth. As the mouth and sharp teeth moved, it actually spoke, "I can sense blood and fear, and it is truly delightful."

The mouth laughed boisterously. The horrid language it used seemed to have the power to directly contaminate the environment, causing the Crimson Cult's cultists to feel nauseous and dizzy. This was certainly not the common language of Draleon, not even a language of humans; none but Daknis could comprehend it.

Witnessing this eerie scene, not just the Crimson Cult's cultists, but even Daknis's companion, a short man with sideburns, showed discomfort on his face.

He instinctively took a step back, noticing a large shadow enveloping Daknis. His lips moved slightly, but he did not voice his confusion.

Their original goal was simply to use flesh nourishment technology to secure a promise from the mermen to help them leave Coldwater Port. The Poet-Level Relic "Fish Training Ring" was a trade Daknis had suggested privately.

Afterward, the group began to clean up the traces of the ritual and used arcane techniques to bombard and collapse the narrow crevice behind the wall that Shard had entered. Lastly, they arranged the bodies on the ground so that the flesh could be more evenly distributed across the etched traces of the ritual.

About seven or eight minutes later, just as the cultists were preparing to leave, they suddenly heard clear footsteps coming from the exit of the damp little chapel:

"Who is playing with steam bombs in my basement?"

It was a woman's voice.

(Shard is running...)

Shard was in full sprint; to be more precise, he was running and calculating the timing for spatial leaps forward.

The walls looked like natural fissures, and the winding paths prevented anyone behind him from attacking directly. But the sensation of being vulnerable from the back was spine-chilling. Shard could only run forward as fast as possible, sometimes abruptly turning to release a glimmer of light behind him, then without caring what happened behind him, continued to flee.

After a full five minutes of running and seeing that the path was coming to an end, he stopped, lying on the flat stone beneath his feet to listen, but no footsteps followed.

"No one is chasing after me? Or is it that there's actually a dead end ahead?"

But Shard couldn't retreat at this stage. Moreover, if the pursuers hadn't caught up, it was even better. Perhaps Miss Aphrola would come here soon because of the steam bomb explosion.

Looking for a way out while waiting for the witch's rescue was truly Shard's real plan.

Now that he couldn't turn back, he had to keep moving forward. He finally saw the work of man—a sealed iron door—with a slot at three-quarters of the door's height from the ground, just enough to drop an envelope through, as if it was installed upside down compared to a normal door.

The wind blew from the crack under the door and the small slot above—fresh sea breeze. Considering that Aphrola Manor was by the sea, it was very likely that behind the door lay a cave by the seaside.

"But if the exit were so easy to find, why didn't the cultists catch up..."

Shard eyed the iron door with suspicion. The door seemed quite old, with severe rusting. He could barely discern a pattern that had once existed on it and upon closer inspection, realized it was the Holy Emblem of the Lord of the Crimson Spiral.

"This door was planted here by the Crimson Cult."

He approached the door, and an inexplicable unease prevented him from opening it directly. Instead, he asked himself:

"Is there anything abnormal?"

"Temporarily, no."

"So..."

There was no handle on the door. The panting Shard placed his hand on the rusty surface, immediately sensing that Sorcery "Key of the Door" was operable, indicating that the door was actually locked. The difficulty of unlocking it was not great, just a bit more challenging than Mr. Jude's safe. Discover exclusive tales on My Virtual Library Empire

"Could it be that the cultists outside are confident I cannot open this door, and that's why they did not pursue me?"

He couldn't understand it and, upon a more detailed inspection, he surprisingly found a series of ancient runes engraved under the rust at the edge of the door frame.

After translation, Shard confirmed these were prayers used for sealing. Only on the most dangerous seals would one inscribe prayers of such level.

"What exactly is behind this?"

Curious about the door, his fingertip glimmered under the moonlight as the door remained dark. Shard thought for a moment and decided not to rashly open the strange iron door. Turning to leave, he wanted to check on what the Fishmen outside were doing; perhaps Miss Aphrola had already arrived.

However, just as he took two steps, the whistling wind caused by explosions and atmospheric disturbances rushed through the corridor.

"Oh!"

The force of the strange wind was so strong that it hurled the unprepared Shard out, causing him to crash into the iron door behind him with a bang.

At the same time, due to the explosion and the strong wind, the entire corridor began to vibrate. Dumbfounded, Shard sat in front of the door, listening to the continuing sounds of collapse from afar.

The passage from the damp little chapel to this door collapsed, stopping mere dozens of steps away from Shard, the rising dust causing him to cough ceaselessly.

Now, even if he didn't want to, he had no choice but to open the door.