After hearing the contents of the cult priest's prayer, Duncan immediately stopped his attempt to sever the soul projection and return to the Lost Homeland.
He looked at the Masked Priest, who had just finished his frenzied prayer, as if he were an idiot. He watched the Obsidian Dagger in the other man's hand, seemingly carved from Obsidian, raised high. He watched the believers around the altar grow excited one by one and chant the name of their "lord" in unison—the "true Sun God," said in legend to have fallen and shattered into pieces many years ago.
They were going to offer him, this "Sacrifice," to the Sun God. Specifically, they would offer up the Sacrifice's heart.
Duncan finally understood what had caused the horrific scene in that cave, and what these cultists' insane, criminal acts were all about.
Then he saw the Masked Priest take a step toward him, and a layer of black flames suddenly appeared over the surface of the Obsidian Dagger held high in his hand.
This striking supernatural phenomenon instantly piqued Duncan's curiosity. He wondered whether the dagger was some kind of "anomalous" item, whether the priest before him was some sort of "special human" capable of wielding extraordinary power, how many such special humans existed in this world's civilized society, and what social roles they might play.
At the same time, he watched expressionlessly as the black-flamed dagger stabbed down, plunging straight into his chest with the hollow, muffled sound of piercing several layers of ragged cloth.
The flames flickered inside for a moment, but burned nothing.
On the Totem Pole behind him, a series of unsettling crackling explosions suddenly erupted from the blazing fireball. Mixed into the bursts was a tearing, dizzying noise. Duncan vaguely sensed something spreading from the fireball—a cold, mad "touch." He found it difficult to describe the sensation, not merely because the senses of this temporarily occupied body were dull, but because it exceeded all his past experience of perception. He knew only one thing: in this world where supernatural phenomena truly existed, the priest's sacrificial ritual had undoubtedly gone very wrong.
The abnormality in the "symbol of the sun" atop the Totem Pole immediately caught the attention of the nearest believers. Amid several suppressed gasps, the scene swiftly fell silent from its previous frenzy. Even the two black-robed men tightly gripping Duncan's arms seemed intimidated by something; they released him in terror and knelt before the Totem Pole in fear. The priest holding the Obsidian Dagger froze where he stood. He still held the dagger, but stared fixedly at the Sacrifice's face. Through the openings in his mask, Duncan could see a pair of eyes sinking into confusion and chaos.
Duncan tugged at the corners of his stiff mouth and finally forced out a strange smile. Slowly raising his right hand, he placed it over the priest's hand gripping the Obsidian Dagger. Threads of Green Fire flowed and seeped like water, gradually winding around the dagger.
Almost instantly, Duncan felt the "feedback" coming from the dagger. Strangely, however, it was faint and hollow, as though the dagger were merely some shoddy imitation, an empty shell housing only a tiny trace of "borrowed power."
But whether the dagger was genuine or an imitation did not matter to him.
He smiled at the priest and said unhurriedly, "I need to say two things."
The next instant, the priest felt the connection between himself and the Obsidian Dagger abruptly disrupted by some outside force. The power of his sincere, fanatical faith in the Sun God seemed to strike an indestructible wall and be cut off completely.
"First, I'm a broad-minded man—you see, this broad."
Duncan tore away the strips of cloth that had already been tattered and were now cut open by the dagger. A shocking, gaping hole was revealed. Through that dreadful opening, the priest conducting the sacrificial ritual could clearly see the scene behind Duncan.
"Second, try not to offer expired food to your lord."
Duncan gently pushed the priest's hand aside. For some reason, after he had wrapped the Obsidian Dagger in Green Spirit Body Fire, the priest seemed to have suddenly lost most of his strength. Even Duncan's current weak and powerless body could easily shove aside this tall, burly priest.
Only after being pushed away did the priest seem to suddenly come to his senses. Great terror and fury engulfed him. His muscles trembled as he raised a hand and pointed at Duncan, as though trying to restore order to the ritual site through a loud shout. "Filth risen from the dead! This is a resurrected dead soul! You have desecrated this sacred sacrificial ritual! Filth... Which audacious necromancer is behind you?! Aren't you afraid of the power of the sun?!"
"I don't understand what you're talking about," Duncan said casually, glancing at the Obsidian Dagger in his hand and sensing the faint power feedback within it. Then he looked up at the priest before him. Listening to the crackling sounds from the Totem Pole behind him, a bold and whimsical idea suddenly came to mind. "But I suddenly feel like satisfying my curiosity."
With that, he abruptly raised the Obsidian Dagger in his hand. Before a crowd of black-robed cultists still trapped in confusion and terror, he pointed at the Masked Priest and shouted:
"Most exalted and holy Sun God! Please accept the sacrifice upon this platform! I offer you this Sacrifice's heart. May you return from blood and fire!"
The next second, flames surged violently from the Obsidian Dagger. The cold sensation spreading from the Totem Pole behind him suddenly gathered itself and pointed toward the Masked Priest not far away. Duncan saw terror suddenly appear in the priest's eyes. He seemed to want to leave the platform at once, but the dagger was faster—
The dagger flew straight out of Duncan's hand, drawn by some invisible force. Wrapped in roaring black flames and faintly entwined with Green Fire, it plunged directly into the priest's chest. Amid the latter's shrill scream, the cult leader's chest was pierced clean through, and his heart turned to ash in an instant.
The next second, the dagger returned to Duncan's hand. And after that brief trip, the tiny bit of power contained within it seemed to have finally been completely exhausted.
Given that there were two people within the sacrificial range of the cult altar, one with a heart and one without, and that some evil god absolutely had to taste a human heart today—who would lose their heart?
Naturally, it had to be the one with a heart.
But even if that logic held, the smoothness of the whole affair still exceeded Duncan's expectations. He had never imagined that his wild "experiment" would actually work. Only after watching the cult priest collapse did he turn and glance at the now-calm Totem Pole behind him, muttering in a strange tone, "So as long as the words are right, it doesn't matter who gives it?"
The fireball atop the Totem Pole naturally did not answer his question, but the cultists around the altar had clearly come to their senses by then. Massive panic was unavoidable, yet amid that panic, even more fanatical believers erupted in rage. Their fury surpassed even the fear brought by the Totem Pole's earlier abnormality!
Several cultists nearest the altar reacted first. Shouting the Sun God's name, they charged toward Duncan. These boldest believers quickly spurred more people on, and a large group of black-robed figures rushed forward as if they had lost their minds. Some even pulled short swords and daggers from beneath their robes.
Duncan had originally planned to shout, "I offer all the hearts of everyone on the altar to the Sun God," and test this strange evil god's appetite. But when he saw someone among the charging cultists pull a revolver from his clothes, he immediately abandoned the idea. Considering the time needed for the sacrificial ritual to take effect and the rule that "within seven steps, guns are accurate and fast," he decisively gave the cultists the middle finger and severed the soul projection.
Let those lunatics keep being lunatics. He was going back to the Lost Homeland.
Meanwhile, across the vast Boundless Sea, rhythmic footsteps sounded across the deck of the Lost Homeland.
Alice, the doll dressed in a splendid Gothic gown, left her room and arrived outside the Captain's Cabin.
This time, the ornate wooden chest did not follow Miss Doll. She had left it in her room.
The captain had said that she could move freely through the cabins below deck and walk around on the deck as well. If there was anything she did not understand, she could come directly to the Captain's Cabin to find him.
Alice remembered that clearly.
(Time for a book recommendation! This is this book's first recommendation, for Mountain Path Daoist's "The Salted-Fish Prince of the Great Ming." Here's the blurb:
Zhu Yijing, grandson of the Zhengde Emperor of the Great Ming and biological son of the Empress Kangning, looked at his proud older brother, his discerning second brother, and his expressionless, unreadable birth mother... Hmm, seemed like there was nothing for him to do?
So the young man calmly put on the shameful hat of a transmigrator and began his salted-fish life of eating, drinking, and waiting for death.
Until a bowl of chicken soup arrived.
"Ahahaha! The chicken soup is here!")
Before you continue