A Glimmer of Hope and the Trojan Trick
At that time, my visit would likely be seen as a test—some unknown force's spying or coveting of the awakened Lord of Cinder.
While the miracle of teleportation is profound, it's not so mysterious as to be unparalleled on this continent. Therefore, this barrier should be the limit of alert set by Aldrich. Perhaps Aldrich herself is unaware of this, and simply left it to her high priest to handle.
Aldrich will eventually reach Irithyll Valley and join forces with Pontiff Sulyvahn. With Pontiff Sulyvahn's help, it will bypass the Silver Knights' guards and Anor Londo. It will then devour the weakened Dark Sun, Gwyndolin.
—It probably hasn't reached an agreement with Pontiff Sulyvahn yet...
Miss Surtr clenched her fist slightly; she could feel the flames of sin burning within her body. Many negative emotions welled up from the depths of her soul, only to be suppressed by her willpower. However, compared to her previous ease, she now had to expend far more effort to deal with this boundless sin.
—Has damage to my intellect limited my capacity to bear it?
Indeed, if I were to recover from my injuries for another month and a half, I could unleash combat power similar to that of a mid-to-late game character in the God Slayer universe, even on this continent of fire and light. However, for now, I am merely a Lord of Cinder... a Lord of Cinder slightly stronger than the others.
—Waiting a bit won't hurt; let me recover. Find out if Pontiff Sulyvahn has arrived in person. And if possible, leave this root of the continent's conspiracies, the instigator of all the tragedies in Dark Souls III, here. And—
The girl glanced at Kal'tsit almost imperceptibly. The Miss Lynx stood there quietly, looking like she wanted to say something but kept her mouth shut.
—As expected, I still can't just leave her here and ignore her. Even though I told her to run away if she gets into trouble... given her personality, it's highly unlikely she'll become a deserter.
—Let's just say it's for... no, to take care of her.
So she let out a soft breath and made her decision.
"This means we still have plenty of time; we don't need to be in such a rush... The fire may be dying down, but it's only dying down. The collapse of the spacetime order will take a considerable amount of time, and before that, we can methodically figure out the situation here and guide it in the most suitable direction—"
Her words trailed off as she saw Kal'tsit's gaze, so intense it seemed to materialize, prompting her to tilt her head in bewilderment as she looked at the Miss Lynx.
"Surtr ..." Kal'tsit pursed her lips, looking as if every word was spoken with utmost care.
"I sensed something through Mon3tr's sensors. There seems to be a convoy approaching in the dense forest about two kilometers behind you..."
"Those might be locals, priests, or supply wagons." Miss Surtr raised an eyebrow, not finding it strange. "No need to worry too much, but it's worth trying to get some information from there."
"But..." However, Kal'tsit's words did not finish.
"I also heard a lot of children crying."
"Silence! Fleshmen, you are walking the path of glory!"
The priest, dressed in white, had a face full of fierce features, and his eyes gleamed with a sinister light. He rode on horseback, brandishing a heavy iron book in a menacing manner, which fluttered in the wind.
Around the convoy were several other priests dressed similarly. There were men and women, but they were all obese, clearly having a long history of meat consumption.
A dozen or so ragged men and women were chained to the back of a wagon, inside which an equal number of children were held in iron cages. They screamed before the priest swung the iron book; they wept after he swung the flail.
The priests just chuckled softly.
"Why weep, why grieve? Your souls and blood will become one with the Supreme Saint, and through the Saint's words you will reach the Land of Bliss."
They looked at them with longing in their eyes.
Surtr overlooked, or rather, neglected one thing—that Saint Aldrich was not a true Lord of Cinder. He was not a hero who had undergone the pilgrimage to link the fire, but a false being who gained his status as Cinder by consuming food and accumulating a vast number of souls. And the food he consumed was the flesh and blood of humans who housed those souls.
For on this continent, linking the fire is the highest honor. To pilgrimage and become kindling is indeed the way of the hero. But if no one can be a hero, then for the continuation of the world, even the most sordid and base means, as long as they create a fait accompli, will be tolerated or tacitly approved by the people, the gods, and the kings.
It's not something that can be brought to the table, but once it's in the fire, it's no longer pursued.
But Aldrich was the first Lord of Cinder to be canonized based on human flesh and blood.
And the churches it established would naturally follow suit.
Perhaps they would restrain themselves when the fire is at its most intense. But when the Lord of Cinder is awakened, these devout followers of the Deep will naturally offer food to their one and only lord.
For example, right now, at this moment.
On certain special occasions, these profound seekers are more willing to walk in the Lord's path.
A breeze was blowing.
There was a unique feeling in the wind... a burning feeling, a destructive feeling. A feeling of hunger...
Someone... no, something is hungry.
The priest stopped the car, and the place where the car stopped was peaceful and quiet—as if even wild beasts were afraid of these humanoid creatures, and even the chirping of insects could not be heard.
"I think this is a good place for communion," a priest said, licking his lips. "Adults prefer tender meat, while those old, chewy, sour relics are perhaps not worthy of their palates."
"That's a good idea, priest. My horse and I are starving. The holy path awaits our journey." Another priest's gaze swept over the trembling man and woman.
"Perhaps we can find a believer willing to sacrifice themselves?" The plump female prayer master chuckled softly. Suddenly, she raised her hand and grabbed at the head of a child in the iron cage!
"Anri!" a bound woman suddenly cried out. The next moment, her face turned pale.
Because the priests' eyes were all on her, like a butcher's knife, picking through her body.
"Oh, believer. The child's name is Anri, isn't it?" The prayer master chuckled softly, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. "Perhaps we can exercise our authority a little. Put him last on the adults' list? Of course, this would require the sincere prayer of a devout believer."
"Would you be willing to pray, believer? Or perhaps we could arrange a unique, long, and glorious path for this lovely child?"
The woman trembled, tears streaming down her face. The child in the iron cage screamed for his mother, but the priest forcefully grabbed his head.
The child in the cage let out a suppressed cry.
"I do!" the woman screamed, then collapsed to her knees, powerless. "I do... I pray to the holy messenger."
The priests grinned and let out satisfied shouts.
As they dismounted and prepared various... ritual implements, the outermost priest suddenly tilted his head in confusion.
"What is that?" it murmured.
And right at the edge of her line of sight, deep in the dense forest, a line of fire, reddish-black, was rushing rapidly toward her, or rather, toward the convoy!
Sin—brings upon the Profaned Flame!
13/75?
Chapter 185: A Glimmer of Hope Amidst the Trojan Trick
Kill them all.
Slaughter them.