Evil Incantation (Please Bookmark and Recommend)

Beyond the window was a dark, shabby bedroom. Sifa first took out the Shadow Glove and put it on. This extraordinary weapon almost blended into the shadows of the room; even on his hand, Sifa could barely feel its presence.

Old Mrs. Paris was clearly not a clean person. The bedroom was a complete mess. On the bed against the inner wall, the quilt had not been folded, with one corner hanging to the floor. Balls of yarn and crochet hooks lay tossed across the table on the right, as if she had been preparing for winter, but they looked untouched for quite some time, and the table was covered in dust.

A basket piled with dried radishes had been tossed into a corner. Beside it stood a battered cabinet containing a basket of eggs. Sensing human presence, two gray rats darted into a hole in the corner of the cabinet and vanished.

Sifa quietly pushed open the door and left the bedroom, making a circuit of the dilapidated house. He checked the living room, kitchen, and washroom. Without exception, they were either filthy or strewn with rubbish. It seemed Paris had not cleaned the house in a very long time.

Sifa could not help wondering just how busy she had to be to live in a garbage heap.

However, when he opened the storeroom, he found it surprisingly clean. The room had been neatly organized, and inside, Sifa discovered a basement.

Looking at the stairway swallowed by darkness, Sifa could sense that the air below was cold and damp, as though the stairs led into a bottomless abyss.

He found a horse lantern nearby. Once it was lit, Sifa did not rush inside.

Using materials he found in the tool room, he made two simple traps. They had little killing power, but if there was something below and he had to flee, the traps could provide some degree of obstruction.

Sifa remembered to play the role of a Hunter at all times.

Only after setting the traps did Sifa pick up the lantern and head down.

The stairs were not long, nor did they lead into an abyss. Sifa soon reached the ground.

The basement was spacious and not stuffy. Its walls were pieced together from wooden boards, with a room partitioned off within it. The door was ajar, and cold, damp air flowed through the crack.

Holding up the lantern, Sifa walked forward and first saw a wooden cabinet. Clothes, hats, gloves, and tools had been tossed inside.

Neither their sizes nor styles looked like they belonged to old Mrs. Paris. Besides, there were two sets of blue workers' coveralls among them. Sifa did not believe that old woman still went to a factory to earn a living.

Before the cabinet, in the middle of the basement, stood a round table. On it was a wooden statue.

It was an extremely strange statue, blending the concepts of "tree" and "woman" together. It had roots, vines, knotted burls, and blooming flowers, yet it also possessed female organs, suggestive parts, and an exquisitely beautiful face.

The delicate carving made every strand of hair distinct and flowing. Its features were deep-set, its nose high and straight, its lips full and lush—softly beautiful, yet carrying a hint of temptation.

The moment he saw the bizarre statue, which gave off an immediate sense of evil, Sifa's heartbeat accelerated, and a primal urge to indulge in pleasure surged within him.

He hurriedly looked away from the statue. Then, near the round table, he found several candles bearing signs of use, their wax hardened at the base.

Although he had not yet learned ritual magic, that did not stop Sifa from reaching a conclusion: old Mrs. Paris had conducted some sort of ritual here.

And more than once!

As the lantern moved, Sifa noticed a piece of parchment nailed to the round table with a dagger. The yellowed paper clearly did not belong to an old woman living alone, and it drew his attention.

Approaching the parchment, Sifa saw a passage of incantation written in Hermesian.

"Hidden behind the light, nonexistent within the shadows."

"You are the great, concealed The Unseen."

"You are the ruler of desire, lurking within all things and spreading white miasma."

"I pray to you."

"I pray for the power of concealment;"

"I pray for the power of the unseen;"

"I pray for Your favor."

"Here, I offer a sacrifice of flesh and blood to You, using the spirituality of blood to convey my faithful belief!"

Sifa drew in a sharp breath. No matter how he looked at it, this was not an incantation for seeking help from the Evernight Goddess.

The incantation was too eerie and seeped with evil intent. Whether it was a sacrifice of flesh and blood or the spirituality of blood, it was undoubtedly an evil ritual.

Sifa also saw Loenese written beneath the incantation, indicating the Hermesian pronunciation of the passage.

In other words, old Mrs. Paris probably did not know the actual content of the incantation. She thought she was making an offering to the Evernight Goddess?

Someone was spreading faith in an evil god under the Goddess's name?

Sifa immediately pulled out the dagger, rolled up the parchment, and put it away. This had to be handed over to the Church. He could not let the seeds of an evil god take root in the town.

Just then.

Sifa heard a decadent sound, like a woman's moan of pleasure or someone humming softly. The sound was illusory and ethereal. Merely hearing a few notes made another primal urge rise within Sifa.

A Hunter's sharp hearing allowed him to swiftly locate its source. It was actually coming from inside the strange statue on the table.

Suddenly.

The eyeballs in the statue's female face turned toward Sifa, and a plume of pink smoke poured from its mouth.

Sifa immediately covered his nose and mouth and retreated rapidly. Without hesitation, he aimed the Snake-Scale Pistol at the statue and fired repeatedly.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Sifa fired four shots in succession. The bullets struck the statue, sending wood chips flying and knocking it off the table.

When it hit the ground, the statue shattered, and thick red liquid poured from within, like blood.

At the instant the statue shattered, Sifa vaguely heard a scream. It seemed not to exist in the real world, but to ring directly inside his mind.

The sound vanished in an instant, yet it left Sifa with a splitting headache.

He could not help clutching his head, forgetting to leave. Once the headache eased somewhat, Sifa raised the lantern and looked around. Glancing at the half-open door, he raised his revolver, intending to investigate.

Unexpectedly, a startled cry came from above.

It was his sister Helibel's voice!

Sifa immediately rushed up the stairs, returned to the bedroom, and climbed out through the window.

He saw Helibel leaning against the crumbling stone wall, her body trembling slightly, her face pale, and her pupils somewhat dilated.

"What happened?" Sifa nervously checked her condition. "Are you hurt?"

The noble girl dressed as a newsboy finally came back to her senses. She shook her head, then raised a hand and pointed at the excessively large oak tree ahead.

"There's a tree hollow there. In the hollow, I think I saw someone."

Someone in the tree hollow? Sifa looked at the horse lantern in his hand, glad he had not casually thrown it away earlier.