Inside a vast, hidden Stone Hall, ghostly-green moss crawled over the cracks of the huge vaulted ceiling, and water dripped endlessly from above, splashing up sprays in the uneven puddles.
The torches hanging all around looked as if they might go out at any moment. The firelight flickered unsteadily, stretching and warping the figures of Herpo and the others until they seemed like a group of ghosts swaying in motion.
Gregory stood beside Herpo, often turning his neck uneasily, his whole body looking extremely constrained.
Circe stood on Herpo's other side, staring blankly at the huge Ritual Magic Array before her. Every now and then she let out a long sigh, as if to express regret, or as if she were yawning from exhaustion.
Herpo asked, "Carcas, what's the situation now?"
Carcas's tone dragged. "Let me see..."
In truth, ever since Morgan le Fay had taken action, he had, under Herpo's orders, carried out several probes of Paris.
It was just that after Vizet activated the Ritual Magic Array and Paris was covered by Necromancy, every probe afterward became incredibly difficult, leaving him in agony.
And what was more, only a few minutes had passed, yet Herpo wanted him to probe again. He truly was somewhat reluctant.
However, this was The Shepherd's command, and Carcas did not dare defy it at all.
He could only helplessly take several deep breaths, as if undergoing an intense bout of mental preparation, before finally gritting his teeth hard and closing his eyes.
Meridians like winding venomous snakes rapidly spread upward from his neck. They knotted together and covered his eyes, as though he had put on a hideous black blindfold.
His face gradually twisted, veins bulging on his forehead, his expression full of pain. The black meridians swelled until they gleamed, as if