When the plot-skips players into the game world

Chapter 803: Chapter 183 The Wild Hunt Transformation Ceremony_2 Chapter 803: Chapter 183 The Wild Hunt Transformation Ceremony_2 This is probably why the Giants specially set up the remote “Valley of the Beheaded” as a site for capital punishment.

Essentially, it’s just like burying pollutive waste in an uninhabited place—if this area really becomes haunted, well, they can just stop coming here.

There’s no need to worry about spirits chasing after them; the undead can’t wander far.

“This is a good plan, Merlin.”

Arthur joined in, “We’re counting on you, Sir Helquinn.

In your state as an undead, you possess the great strength to transcend ‘the Wall of Balance’.

If you could transform into The Wild Hunt, that would be very helpful to us in our fight against the ‘Tyrant’.”

—— Huh?

It’s my turn?

Aren’t you going to do it?

Aiwass paused for a moment and looked at Arthur.

His expression was cool, still that calm and steady poker face.

Although his tone was as bland as reading lines from a script, apparently his usual character was more or less the same.

The other Knights of the Round Table were completely oblivious to the Arthur within, who was actually another actor—Arthur of the future.

And Arthur blinked at Aiwass, signaling him to be at ease.

——Don’t be afraid, speak the words.

And so Aiwass calmed down.

“…

Using the false me as a sacrifice and medium to reach a ritual agreement with the real Helquinn?”

Aiwass cleared his throat solemnly and said, “If it is to fight against the Supreme Heaven and its Angel Envoys… I would gladly cooperate with your ritual.”

Upon hearing this, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

If “Sir Helquinn” had a more conservative personality and didn’t agree with this, then Merlin wouldn’t be able to force the transformation of Helquinn into The Wild Hunt.

Maybe it was something he couldn’t achieve…

or perhaps something he was unwilling to do.

After all, Helquinn was his idol.

…

Their only option would be to fight a desperate battle.

Once Arthur and Helquinn both nodded in approval, Merlin’s plan received the knights’ full support.

With the knights’ transportation and assistance, Merlin quickly completed his ritual site.

——It was a Ritual Magic Circle composed of sixteen megaliths.

First were the four shortest steles placed in the north, south, east, and west directions around Aiwass, followed by slightly taller steles staggered at 45 degrees in the outer ring, then the even taller ones in the north-east, south-east, north-west, and south-west directions in an even farther ring, and finally the four in the outermost ring.

It looked like an aiming reticle.

And Aiwass could clearly see — on the four innermost steles were inscribed the life experiences of Helquinn since his childhood.@@novelbin@@

From birth, learning as a child and teenager, to adventures in his youth, growth, and love.

The third stele narrated his achievements, the fourth his cause of death.

After some offset, the diagonal steles were inscribed with words of reverence to the Great Sage.

Merlin drew his Sword from his belt and held it aloft.

“——I beseech thee, Great Sage, the God of the Holy Numbers four!

“The God who sees the truth, the God of Silence who speaks not!”

He proclaimed, “When the tempestuous rain of the seasons approaches, the voices of the hounds of life and death resonate far and wide.

The unburied warriors roar from the storm—”

As Merlin prayed, a thick, deep-blue bolt of Thunder descended from the sky, striking the blade in his hands.

The deep blue lightning pulsed and linked with all the megaliths.

Each stone lit up with text that now sparkled with deep blue electricity.

The words leapt from the stones, emerging into the void.

They were connected by a web of lightning.

And right then, the sky gradually grew overcast.

Without any prelude or transition, a torrential rain poured down in the blink of an eye!

It was a Blur, a storm so intense that one could barely see another person.

As the torrential rain hit the ground, the lightning formed a sphere, enveloping Aiwass within.

In that tempest that obscured all vision, the Dark Clouds on the horizon billowed, vaguely taking shape into a herd of black horses and a pack of hounds.

Faintly, Aiwass heard two cries of hounds.

One was clear and filled with vitality and energy, and the other was deep and dark, with an echo to it.

Each cry closely followed the other.

For Death always accompanies life—just as hunting is for survival, it inevitably brings about Death.

And The Wild Hunt is the opposite: it hunts for Death but brings hope of life to people.

“Those who have died yet whose souls persist shall be stripped from the six realms!

For they are dead yet tread the Dusk Path, for their might they command the Path of Strength, for their existence they master the Path of Adaptation!

“In the name of the Great Sage, I reconstruct the paths of your Wisdom and beauty!

“I grant you the privilege to speak and to sing!

I grant you the privilege of thought and Wisdom!”

“You shall not attack or enter any room with a lit lamp and closed door!

Do not approach any area near a church guarded by a Bishop, do not attack the sick, pregnant women, or the disabled!

You shall not destroy libraries or schools, you shall not harm the brave who sing and play music to you!

“You shall not drink the Alcohol of the living, you shall not consume offerings or burned incense!

“You shall not cease to hunt, you shall not stop fighting!

Like the Storm that never ends, it merely slumbers—”

So that’s how it is.

The dead yet corporeal were stripped from the four realms…

The Wild Hunt ritual was to transform these incorporeal warrior souls into bodies of The Wild Hunt, restoring them from the three paths to the five…

But at this point, Aiwass’ consciousness began to Blur.

Fragmentary memories flowed through his mind—like a series of headless and tailless photos emerging in his heart.

He didn’t fully understand what these fragments meant, but the mere sight of them brought a touch of warmth and nostalgia.