Chapter 370: Bathing in Blood
The strange sound was sometimes like the wail of a woman who had lost her husband and child, filled with sorrow, and other times like the roar of a crazed beast, full of destructive rage.
The sound wasn’t loud, but it echoed through the single passageway, an eerie and unsettling sound that even the soft glow of the magic lamps couldn’t dispel.
Although the group was composed of clerics with decent strength, and even though they had the Goddess’s chosen, Loseweisse, with them, they still felt a chill run down their spines.
Tap, tap…
The sound of the Holy Knights’ metal boots striking the stone steps was heavy and dull.
The spiraling staircase was illuminated by magic lamps, allowing them to see far ahead. There were no dangerous, twisted monsters, yet each person felt as if a heavy stone was pressing down on their hearts, each step an arduous effort.
An inexplicable sense of oppression weighed heavily on them.
The leading Holy Knight was already drenched in sweat. The further down they went, the stronger the sense of dread became. He regretted his earlier eagerness to impress Loseweisse by being the first to enter.
Now, he wanted to retreat, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would be too embarrassing.
He took another step forward, his boot touching the stair.
Just as his foot landed, a sharp light shot out from the ground beneath him, piercing through his legs and slicing him in half from the groin up.
In an instant, his body was split in two.
The poor Holy Knight, consumed by fear and resentment, didn’t even have a chance to scream before he was bisected.
Thick blood sprayed outwards, staining the walls crimson.
Blood and internal organs spilled onto the stairs, making a sickening splat, splat sound.
This scene instantly startled the other clerics, causing chaos and commotion.
They knew this journey wouldn’t be easy, but they hadn’t expected the traps to be so insidious.
“Everyone, calm down.”
Loseweisse’s voice echoed from behind. She glanced at the corpse, precisely cut in half, a flicker of coldness in her eyes. At least he served some purpose, testing a trap.
A faint blush quickly colored her pale cheeks.
“This is all the doing of that evil Augustus.”
“The sacrifice of Holy Knight Grol will not be in vain. He has used his life to open the path to the end for us.”
“His sacrifice will be remembered by the gods. His soul will return to the embrace of the gods, to eternally enjoy the glory of Heaven.”
“May the Holy Light protect him.”
Loseweisse’s hands clasped before her chest, offering a prayer.
Her compassionate appearance, coupled with the gentle sway of holy light around her, truly gave her the air of a divine emissary.
Whether it was the effect of a mind-control spell or Loseweisse’s compassionate act, the others calmed down, offering their own prayers:
“May the Holy Light protect him!”
“My fellow priests, please cast protective spells on your comrades,” Loseweisse’s voice echoed through the passage again.
She was slightly annoyed. This place was so dangerous. They should have cast protective spells the moment they entered.
As the low chanting began, the light of Holy Protection illuminated each person.
With the added protection, the group continued their descent.
The spiraling staircase was riddled with traps and magical wards. The closer they got to the bottom, the more numerous and dangerous the traps became, and the louder the strange, wailing cries.
It was a woman’s desperate, agonizing screams.
It was almost inhuman.
Loseweisse felt a growing unease. Could those cries be coming from her mother? Had she gone mad after being imprisoned by Augustus for so long?
If so, it would be terrible. She, a divine maiden, with a madwoman for a mother? The thought was mortifying.
She, who carried the blood of a god, the future first female Pope of the Holy See, couldn’t tolerate such a blemish.
No matter what, she had to maintain her purity.
As they descended further, the power of the traps increased. Despite their protective spells, the figures around Loseweisse fell one by one to the various traps.
Of the sixty-plus clerics who had entered, fewer than ten remained by the time they reached the bottom.
The passage was filled with the stench of blood, blood flowing down the steps.
The descent, hundreds of meters long, had claimed dozens of lives, a testament to the deadly traps and illusions. It had taken them nearly a day and a half to traverse this short distance.
Finally, they reached the end. A dark, metal door stood before them. The hysterical screams came from behind it.
Loseweisse’s face had turned ashen.
“Open it!”
Perhaps because they believed they were safe after overcoming the traps along the way, or perhaps because they were eager to complete their mission, the guards were less cautious here. Aside from a simple copper lock, there were no other wards.
A Holy Knight drew his sword and struck the lock. With a clang, a spark flew, and the lock fell to the ground.
He pushed the door open, and the scene within the cell was revealed to Loseweisse.
Her first impression wasn’t of the cell itself, but of the stench.
Several clerics instinctively covered their noses.
One even waved his hand, trying to dispel the foul odor.
Loseweisse’s heart sank.
She stared into the cell, and a slender figure came into view. Her face turned pale.
A woman, thin and frail, wearing a pure white Saintess robe, her long hair disheveled, obscuring her face.
Heavy chains bound her wrists and ankles, the other ends attached to the walls.
The strange, crazed howls came from her mouth, her body twisting and struggling, her movements almost inhuman.
The chains rattled with her frantic movements.
Perhaps because so much time had passed, at least a week since anyone had cleaned, the woman was covered in filth and grime.
Perhaps because she hadn’t seen Augustus in a while, the woman seemed even more agitated. She was like a wild, rabid dog, her hysterical screams echoing through the cell. Her struggles had even torn her once-neat clothes.
The surviving clerics exchanged strange glances.
This was Saintess Phyllis?
The once-unparalleled genius of the Holy See? How had she become like this?
Had she been imprisoned by Augustus for too long, and driven mad?
Gods, the Saintess, imprisoned here for so many years, suffering who knows what kind of torment. It was too pitiful.
And this woman was the divine maiden’s mother? To treat the mother of a divine maiden with such disrespect… Augustus was truly evil.
Whispers circulated among the group.
No one mocked or ridiculed her. The clerics felt only pity for Saintess Phyllis.
But her torment was about to end.
From this day forward, she would be free.
She was the best evidence against Augustus, proof of his crimes.
Once she left this place and received the best care and treatment, they believed she would soon recover.
“Congratulations, Your Holiness, on rescuing your mother. Mother and daughter reunited,” a cleric said, seizing the opportunity to offer his congratulations.
The others quickly followed suit.
But these words sounded different to Loseweisse.
She stared blankly at the disheveled, filthy, crazed woman before her. This was her mother?
No… no.
She didn’t want to admit it.
It was humiliating.
Her body trembled.
Why? Why? Why? She was the daughter of a god, carrying the noblest of bloodlines. Why did she have such a filthy, foul mother?
This woman had been imprisoned here by Augustus for over two decades. Who knew what had happened during that time?
Once this was known, the entire Holy See… no, the entire Heavenly Continent would know she had a madwoman for a mother, a woman who had been imprisoned and tormented by Augustus for over twenty years…
Her reputation, her dignity, would be ruined.
She would become a laughingstock, mocked and ridiculed.
No… no… no… no.
Her heart twisted, her eyes widening, her gaze filled with an intensity that bordered on madness.
She couldn’t allow that to happen.
She was perfect.
She couldn’t allow such a blemish on her existence.
The well-wishes of those around her now sounded harsh and insincere.
She knew they were just being polite. They must be laughing at her in their hearts.
Damn it, damn it, damn it…
Suddenly, Loseweisse’s eyes turned sharp and vicious, a sinister smile touching her lips.
Her long, golden hair, despite the absence of wind, began to sway.
The well-wishes stopped abruptly.
A thick mist of blood began to permeate the cell, and Loseweisse’s figure was bathed in crimson.
Chapter 371: Killing Her Mother
The scene in the cell was not to be witnessed by anyone.
Having a filthy, deranged mother would stain her reputation as a divine maiden.
This must not happen.
She was the divine maiden, Loseweisse. She carried not only her own honor but that of the entire Holy See.
Yes, she wasn’t doing this for herself, but to protect the Holy See’s reputation.
Loseweisse’s face was filled with sorrow: “I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry.”
“But, who told you to see this, to laugh at me in your hearts…”
Loseweisse’s appearance was somewhat neurotic as she muttered, her long hair dancing wildly behind her, growing longer, transforming into a multitude of terrifying snakes.
Hiss… hiss… hiss…
The hairs rampaged through the cell, entangling everything. Everywhere, golden strands could be seen.
These hairs were sharper than the sharpest blades. Accompanied by strange sounds, a pungent smell of blood filled the cell.
Small pieces of flesh flew in every direction.
Thick, crimson blood splattered everywhere.
Some of it landed on Loseweisse’s face, staining her pale skin with flecks of red. Her pure white Saintess robes turned crimson, as if soaked in blood.
When everything settled, her hair stopped moving.
Apart from the chained Saintess Phyllis, no one else remained alive. The floor was covered in a layer of gore.
The clerics who had cleared the way for Loseweisse, who had protected her from countless traps, were now mangled and mixed together on the ground.
Bits of flesh and blood dripped from her hair.
Blood seemed to form a mist, swirling within the cell. Loseweisse took a deep breath, a strange sweetness filling her lungs.
Despite the blood on her face, she wore a pure, innocent smile, her lips curving into a naive arc as she looked around at the carnage, as if she could still see the figures that had once stood beside her.
“You have sacrificed yourselves for the noble Goddess. The great God will remember your glory. So, rest in peace.”
Looking down at the stains on herself, Loseweisse frowned, pouting. She looked quite awful now.
She needed to clean up. It wouldn’t do to go out and scare the believers.
A strange, almost sensual, smile appeared on her lips. A strange power began to stir within her. As it did, the blood on her skin and clothes was seemingly absorbed into her body.
The crimson of her robes gradually faded, returning to their original pure white within minutes. Even her soiled hair regained its golden color.
She casually flicked her hair, and some dried residue fell to the ground.
Loseweisse clapped her hands in delight. Now, no one would ever know what had happened in the cell.
With that done, she finally turned her gaze to her mother, Saintess Phyllis.
The madwoman.
Perhaps frightened by Loseweisse’s actions, Phyllis’s near-manic howls had ceased. She simply stared blankly at Loseweisse.
Her eyes, the same soft gold as Loseweisse’s, were filled with confusion.
Phyllis could sense a familiar aura emanating from Loseweisse, perhaps the connection of shared blood.
She instinctively shook her arm, rattling the chains.
Phyllis seemed to regain a sliver of sanity, her eyes gradually showing a hint of yearning. She seemed to want to embrace the young woman before her, but the chains prevented her from doing so.
Loseweisse slowly approached, stopping before Phyllis, her gaze sweeping over this woman who seemed so normal now, without a trace of her earlier disgust.
Would things be… awkward now?
Should she take this woman with her?
So many clerics had died. To return without any results would surely damage her subordinates’ morale.
But in her current state, taking her would only bring shame. It would do nothing to help her.
She would be a laughingstock, a stain on her otherwise perfect image.
After a few seconds, a warm smile filled Loseweisse’s eyes as she approached Phyllis. But that smile seemed to terrify the woman.
Although she had wanted to embrace Loseweisse earlier, Phyllis now cowered, trembling.
She seemed to remember something, her gaze turning to one of fear, as if she were looking at a twisted, terrifying monster.
She was clearly a madwoman, her mind unstable and shifting.
Well, she had just killed a lot of people. It was normal for her to be afraid. Loseweisse was a generous woman; she wouldn’t hold it against her.
“My dear mother…”
“Can you recognize me? It’s me, Loseweisse, your daughter.”
“The child of you and the great God.”
The great God?
When these words reached Phyllis’s ears, she seemed to be struck by an unprecedented shock. Her eyes widened, her head shaking violently, her messy hair flying. She screamed, her voice filled with a desperate sorrow:
“No… no… no…”
Ah, she’s truly mad.
Loseweisse sighed disappointedly.
But she wasn’t angry, maintaining her gentle smile: “Mother, don’t worry. I’m here to rescue you. But in your current state, if you leave this cell, you’ll be mocked.”
“You don’t want your daughter to be humiliated too, do you? So, I’ll clean you up first. Once you’re presentable, I’ll take you away.” A smile touched her lips.
Magical power flickered at her fingertips.
A stream of water flowed over Phyllis, washing away the filth.
Though she was mad, Phyllis seemed to sense something, and the water around her forcefully pressed against her throat. Her eyes widened, her lips moving as she uttered faint, almost inaudible words.
Loseweisse listened intently, finally making out a few words.
“Au…”
“Augustus…”
“Help me!”
Her voice was just as it had been over two decades ago.
…
Meanwhile, in the deep, dark laboratory beneath the Holy See, Augustus gasped for breath.
The laboratory was almost completely destroyed, its contents buried under rubble.
Even the tunnel was shaking, threatening to collapse, held together only by various magical wards.
Before him was a massive right leg, almost completely fused with the surrounding earth.
This leg, severed from its body for who knew how long, still pulsed with violent energy. Fortunately, after encountering it and sensing the tremendous power within, Augustus had used all manner of methods to seal the area, setting up numerous arrays and wards. This allowed him to suppress the fluctuations emanating from the leg.
But even so, it was still incredibly taxing.
His face was pale, his breath ragged.
Suddenly, he felt a strange pang in his chest, his heartbeat rapidly accelerating, as if a piece of his heart had been ripped out.
The sudden, inexplicable pain made it difficult for him to stand, and he stumbled back.
What… what was that?
Why did his body suddenly react so strangely?
Someone of his level knew that even the slightest anomaly in one’s body held a different meaning.
Could it be… that something had happened to Phyllis?
No… impossible.
He had recently reduced the frequency of his visits.
He was too busy, the hope of revenge finally within his grasp.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. He had to seize it.
After all, revenge had been his sole motivation for over two decades. If not for this burning hatred, he would have given up long ago.
He had experimented with the blood he had extracted from the leg, mixing it with various potions and injecting it into his body.
To his surprise, this method had increased his magical power.
Even his aging had slowed, and he had begun to regain his youth.
This discovery had filled him with excitement. He had even neglected the Holy See, dedicating most of his time to studying the leg.
If he could regain his youth, he could be with Phyllis, couldn’t he?
Otherwise, even if she were freed one day, how could he, an old, withered man, stand by her side?
The process of injecting the blood was agonizing, but he endured.
He believed this was the darkness before the dawn. Once he persevered, everything would be better.
As for Phyllis, although he had reduced his visits, he still brought her food at least once a day. He just couldn’t manage to clean her or change her clothes.
He believed she would understand.
After all, it was for their bright future together.
