Sacrificial Death

Cardinal Matilda then took the body away.

Because the body might be some kind of special evidence or symbol, she decided to store it in the Thirteenth Ring under her jurisdiction for safekeeping. If needed later, the body could be retrieved from there for further investigation.

After Cardinal Matilda left, Iver sat on the soft bed in the bedroom. He placed the papal crown he had been wearing in his lap and casually stroked and played with it.

"You said before, 'Something's strange, we'll talk about it later'... right?"

Iver looked up at Sherlock and asked, "I guess you mean... to wait until Cardinal Matilda leaves before we talk?"

Clearly, that's what Sherlock thought.

He was leaning back on the sofa in the bedroom, legs crossed, deep in thought. Lily had already gone to the kitchen to make tea and prepare refreshments, leaving only Iver and Sherlock in the room.

Whatever Sherlock wanted to say, now was the time to say it.

"The wound doesn't look right."

Sherlock casually replied, "In any case, this wound shouldn't be fatal. The minimal bleeding is simply because the bleeding point is too small, not because the blood has dried up. So it certainly wasn't due to lack of blood."

"Then, poison?"

"That's impossible. I specifically checked it, and all the internal organs were intact. No signs of poisoning were found in the trachea, mouth, heart, liver, or subcutaneous tissue."

"Could it be a neurotoxin?"

"The cause of death was not related to cardiac arrest or asphyxiation."

"How did they die?"

"That's the problem, Iver."

Sherlock calmly asked, "How did she die?"

Iver raised an eyebrow. "Since you're so calm, you must have already gotten the answer."

"Then we need to talk about it from the direction of the wound."

Sherlock replied, "The wound is less than two fingers wide, and its direction is perfectly vertical, with the force and depth at both ends being consistent. In other words, when the dagger was fully inserted into the body, it should have been perfectly perpendicular to the skin surface. Bishop Mercedes clearly did not struggle, so the wound was completely un-torn and the edges were very clean. The deepest part of the wound is in the middle of both sides, specifically the uterus, and the other side was not penetrated."

Upon hearing this, Iver realized something. "Ritual Knife?"

Such a wound is clearly not the kind that could be caused by a sharp blade piercing the abdomen when two people are standing facing each other. A straight stab is actually very unreasonable; it would be very painful to exert force with.

It was more like a ritual performed on her while she was lying down—either by someone else or by herself.

Considering the position is too low, the blade might be off-center if she operated it herself. Therefore, it is more likely that she had an assistant or was being cut with the Ritual Knife while under control. Even if she voluntarily participated in the ritual, it would be difficult for her not to tremble under the intense pain of being cut by a sharp blade. So she was probably being controlled by someone.

Considering the cooperation of the Bishop Mercedes, and taking into account the length, thickness, and sharpness of the wound, Iver could only think of Ritual Knife.

Ritual practitioners often need to carve Ritual Array on the ground or hard surfaces, requiring stability. Therefore, the style of Ritual Knife is actually similar to that of scalpels or carving knives, and the hand gestures for holding Ritual Knife are also similar. They are very sharp and hard enough, with a blade length slightly longer than carving knives and scalpels, but generally the handle length is longer than the blade length.

Obviously, Ritual Knife piercing the abdomen would not kill.

"So I think this could be a sacrificial ritual."

Sherlock offered his speculation. "The person died despite the wounds not being fatal, or even serious, and other parts of the body and organs were undamaged. Bishop Mercedes was very calm at the time of death, without any struggle. This indicates that she must have been exhausted or unconscious. This is perfectly consistent with the behavior of a sacrificed person. I suspect it is Demon Scholar."

His views are very professional.

Avalon's main adversary among the transcendents is the Path of Transcendence transcendents led by Noble Red.

Although the Noble Red have now been destroyed by Iver, they were very active when Sherlock was in school.

Identifying tampered corpses is a very important skill for Law Mage.

One of the ritual spells is to transform a sacrificed corpse into a bomb. The moment the corpse is imbued with the power of other paths, it will detonate instantly—if Law Mage attempts to recall that part of the scene, they will be blown to pieces at close range.

If an unskilled Law Mage were to be blown to pieces by accident, he would probably be ridiculed by his peers.

This is definitely not the primary crime scene. The time travel function only works for bodies that died within the last 24 hours; otherwise, having Sherlock rewind might have made things much clearer.

But Iver shook his head. "Let me give you some common sense that schools don't teach— the Demon Scholar's sacrificial rituals are actually not fatal. Demon sacrifices in Avalon only leave behind corpses because the Demon Scholar will silence, torture, or remove other parts to replenish the ritual materials after the sacrifice."

"Because the correct price for a sacrifice to the devil is 'half'... No matter how much you offer, the devil will only take half. If this is a sacrifice directed at the devil, then Bishop Mercedes will necessarily be healthy when the sacrifice is completed."

"So if this was a death by sacrifice, it means the target of the sacrifice was definitely not a demon?"

"It can't be."

Iver asserted, "Ordinary phantom demons—even apostles wouldn't dare to take 'all'—that would be too much. So if she died as a sacrifice, she must have sacrificed herself to a Pillar God or a celestial being."

"This can be considered a clue."

Sherlock nodded. "I understand... Um, thank you, Miss Lily."

Just then, Lily came over with a cup of tea.

She poured tea for Sherlock and Iver, then kept one for herself, before asking, "Does the young master intend to tell Her Saintess about this?"

"Yes, she has the right to know the truth," Iver replied without hesitation.

"I think so too," Sherlock agreed.

"So, are we going to the Fifth Ring now?" Lily asked.

Iver shook his head. "Let's rest for a while and put our luggage away. I'll stay in this room, you two can choose a room. Then you come with me to the First Ring to buy some things and gather some information... There are already too few humans in the Fifth Ring, so it's better to have information spread faster in places where Short-lived Races gather."

Now the Pope is unreachable, several Cardinal Bishop know the secret of Saintess Nymph, and the Pope Inauguration Ceremony is less than half a month away... He doesn't have much time left.

If you want to intervene, these two weeks are the golden time. If you wait until things have already happened before getting involved, you'll be in a passive position.

"Then I'll stay upstairs."

Sherlock answered without hesitation, "So that you won't disturb my sleep by walking around."

"I walk silently, Mr. Hermes."

Lily was somewhat dissatisfied.

She felt that her professional competence as a stalker, werewolf, assassin, and professional maid was being questioned at the same time.

However, she was quite satisfied with the fact that her room was arranged next to Iver's.

Previously, she had mostly stayed in the servants' quarters in Iver's room—a small single room within the master bedroom, only about five or six square meters in size. It could accommodate some basic personal belongings, a wardrobe, a desk, and a bed. There was a window between the servants' quarters and the bedroom, mainly to prevent soundproofing and to allow her to hear Iver's voice at any time.

Now, as Third Level superhuman with mastery of perception, she no longer needs a servant's quarters to receive orders instantly.

The only thing that made Lily slightly dissatisfied was that she felt her abilities had never been put to use.

During her previous battles alongside Hai Na and the others, Lily realized that unless she transformed into a werewolf, she was completely ineffective on the front lines, at best only good for disrupting the enemy. This was understandable, given that her primary profession was practically that of a half-assassin, and her secondary profession was only skilled at making potions.

But Iver neither asked her for potions nor sent her to assassinate anyone. And if attacked, he was always protected by the Paradox Flame Butterfly or the Night Demon.

Lily is now Third Level transcendent being on two paths, a powerful figure anywhere. Yet, she feels she still can't catch up to Iver... the problems he faces are at the level of Fifth Level powerhouse like Cardinal Bishop.

In Theocracy, teeming with Fifth Level Transcendent, what use was she? Simply accepting Iver's gifts and help without offering anything in return... this was actually quite painful for Lily. Although her primary job was as a personal maid... Lily believed it was a job anyone could do. Iver kept her by his side only because he trusted Lily. This job held no unique value for her.

It's not that I can't live without her.

What is it that only I can do?

Lily pondered, but her work remained efficient.

The group didn't have much luggage. After unpacking their things, Lily returned to Iver's room.

She gently patted and rubbed her face, composed herself, and put on a faint smile again. She picked up the box full of money—considering what had happened on the way here, she had taken out a portion of the money and put it in different pockets on her body.

Iver was a prospective bishop at the time... and now he's even an archbishop, so he doesn't need to worry about such things in the Theocracy.

But as Iver's maid, she still had to help him minimize unnecessary trouble.

Lily then pushed open the door. "Young Master, everything is ready."

"Let's go," Iver, who had been waiting for a long time, stood up and grabbed Sherlock, who was sprawled on the sofa. "If you want to sleep, we can talk about it when we get back."

"What exactly do you want to buy?"

Sherlock complained, "Couldn't you have just asked Lily to buy it?"

"Go buy you the Grimoire."

Iver replied, "And equipment—that's when I used the money I brought."

"...ha?"

Sherlock was somewhat surprised, clearly not expecting this answer, "Buy it for me?"