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At that moment...
The blood-red pillar of light from the Temple suddenly twisted in the distance.
It let out a shriek like the wailing cry of an infant.
The clouds in the sky began to rotate in a way that defied the laws of physics, forming a massive vortex eye. It was as if they were foreshadowing that something was about to happen.
Although the night rain had stopped, the air remained damp and chillingly cold.
It felt as if the entire mountain were shrouded in an invisible layer of grief and resentment. The towering temple stood in the distance within the city, its spire stabbing into the lead-gray sky like a colossal tombstone. The night wind howled, fluttering Ian's black robes. He stood on a peak outside the city, overlooking the metropolis that had sunk into darkness below him.
Occasionally, moonlight pierced the gaps in the clouds, illuminating scattered bloodstains on the streets and overturned coffins.
"It's time to end this."
Ian spoke softly. His voice was calm yet sharp as a blade. The silhouette of the distant structure was visible in his eyes—no longer hesitation, only resolve.
"This chaos, woven together by the Arrogant Priest and that ancient abomination, cannot continue."
Ian remembered that when he first came to this era, he had only wanted to find the materials the Female Titan, Claire, had asked him to locate. Heaven knew why the Eye of Ra still hadn't been found, yet here he was, dragged into the locals' "crisis."
Ian simply didn't possess the resolve to watch an entire city perish before his eyes. He could feel that whatever the Temple was brewing might destroy more than a single city.
It might destroy all of ancient Egypt.
Ian wasn't sure if this was part of real history, but he didn't consider himself heartless. He had decided to deal with the problem threatening the city.
"You're going to the temple, aren't you? I... I want to go with you."
Cam stood a few steps behind Ian, his face pale and his hands tightly gripping his wand as he spoke in a trembling voice.
Ian slowly turned around, his gaze settling on Cam.
His eyes were as deep as an abyss, piercing through Cam's fear and unease and staring straight into the depths of his soul. Ian didn't reply immediately. He simply looked at Cam, who had once been cowardly and wavering, yet now insisted on moving forward.
After a moment, Ian gave a faint nod.
"You're no longer the fugitive who hid in the corner of an alley."
He raised his hand and lightly waved his wand.
"Hold on to me."
Without hesitation, Cam reached out and grabbed Ian's arm.
"Apparate!"
Space suddenly twisted. Light and shadow tore apart, and the two figures vanished from the mountaintop in an instant.
The next moment, they appeared on a barren stone platform at the edge of the forbidden ground on the temple's southern side.
This place had once been a purification plaza used before sacrificial rituals. Now, it was covered in cracks and charred runic formations. The air was thick with lingering magical residue.
Ian steadied himself and looked around.
He attempted to apparate again, lightly tapping the air with his wand while murmuring the spell.
However, the space only produced a faint ripple, and then, it collapsed as though it had struck an invisible barrier.
"As expected," he said coldly. "The Temple's core area has been sealed by a 'Spatial Anchor Barrier.' No teleportation magic can penetrate it. We'll have to enter on foot."
This wasn't actually the location Ian had intended to Apparate to. After all, he had already been inside the temple, so he should have been able to apparate directly into it.
However, he had only arrived here.
Clearly, some form of magic within the temple was preventing wizards from apparating inside, and it was capable of blocking spells cast by a legendary wizard.
For an ancient temple, it certainly possessed a considerable foundation of power.
The wind rose, sweeping dust and sand into the air.
Standing side by side, the two of them took their first step toward the temple.
The cold wind cut through the air like blades, releasing sharp, piercing howls. Above, in the night sky, auroras danced like ribbons; the vortex spun strangely as it reflected on the endless land below.
A deep, eerie glow spread across the ground.
Ian and Cam appeared small and lonely beneath the vast night sky.
"You really plan to storm the temple alone?"
Cam's gaze never left Ian. Looking at his companion, whom he had met by chance, he saw that the emotion in his eyes had grown from awe to something close to worship.
"Of course." Ian nodded in reply.
They had already crossed the street and arrived at the avenue where the temple stood.
"We're here."
Ian spoke quietly, his gaze sharp as a blade as it swept across the scene ahead.
Cam's face turned pale, and his body trembled slightly.
He wasn't afraid; he was heartbroken. He had already seen dozens of corpses scattered in disarray in the plaza before the Temple's gates.
Some wore the gray robes of the Twilight Hermits Society. Others wore the white-and-gold robes of the Temple Priests.
The rancid wind carried the stench of blood. When Ian stepped onto the temple stairs, his boots made a sticky sound.
The dark red liquid had already coagulated into a gelatinous mass. With each step, it felt as if he were walking on the tongue of some gigantic creature.
"Those are... those are our people!"
Cam suddenly rushed forward and dropped to his knees beside the corpse of a young wizard. The man still held his wand, his eyes wide open and black blood spilling from the corners of his mouth. A ritual dagger was embedded in his chest.
Suicide.
"I knew him... He was a good man."
With trembling hands, Cam closed the eyelids of the corpse. The young man wore gray robes, and faint blue smoke still rose from the bloody hole in his temple.
"They were all good people. They would rather cast magic on themselves than turn into that kind of thing," Cam said, his voice choked up.
"Even if their wands were destroyed, some of my companions would rather slit their own throats... those damned traitors!" The young member of the Hermits' Society spoke hoarsely; the blood of his companions, still not fully coagulated, stained the gaps between his fingers. "By the grace of Ra... just what did they see that made even the bravest warriors choose to end their own lives?"
Cam and Ian both knew the answer to that question.
Clearly, some members of the Twilight Hermits Society had chosen suicide over being captured and used as sacrifices to nourish the evil god's Embryo.
"They know what it means to be taken," Ian said quietly. "It's not death, it's a living sacrifice. Their souls would be stripped away and their bodies transformed into nourishment for the Embryo. They chose to end their lives to preserve the last shred of their dignity."
Cam trembled as he closed his companion's eyes and softly recited a soul-requiem spell. His voice was choked with emotion yet remained firm.
Ian stood up and looked toward the temple gates.
Several priest corpses lay scattered around them, their bodies twisted in unnatural positions.
They had also committed suicide.
One had driven a ceremonial sword through his own throat. Another had used magical backlash to blow his own head off.
"Merlin's beard... It's not just your companions. Even these priests chose to kill themselves."
Ian crouched down, his fingertips brushing the black, sun-shaped mark that was emerging on the corpse's neck. The marks squirmed like living creatures. The moment they touched Ian's fingers, they suddenly cracked apart, oozing foul purple liquid.
"Strange." Ian frowned. "These priests are the creators of the embryo. Its guardians. Why would they run? Why would they choose death?"
After a brief moment of analysis, Ian reached his conclusion.
"Clearly, the situation has spiraled out of control. They realized how terrifying the thing they were nurturing truly is."
Suddenly, his wand slid out of his sleeve, carving warning streaks of red light in the air.
Thirty paces away, in the shadow of an obelisk, three white-robed priests were slitting each other's throats with gem-encrusted ritual daggers.
The eldest among them noticed Ian.
With bloodstained fingers, he hurriedly drew incomplete runes on the ground.
"Do not be seen."
Clearly, this elderly priest had used his last bit of kindness to leave a final warning.
"Stay here."
Ian pulled off his cloak and draped it over the exposed chest of a female corpse.
"Bury them all in the sand dunes to the west. At the very least, don't let the vultures desecrate the bodies of these champions."
Ian flicked his wand, casting three freezing charms to seal the nearby priests' corpses.
"The concentration of dark magic here could drive even a Dementor mad."
His caution was not without reason.
Just as Ian was about to leave... Cam suddenly grabbed his wrist.
"Don't you think it's strange? The priests seem to be hunted as well."
He pointed toward the shadows beside the temple pillars where several white-robed corpses were piled together like discarded dolls.
"They were the ones who created the evil god's embryo, so how could they..."
Only then did the young wizard realize that something was wrong.
The priests had died very differently.
Ritual daggers had been stabbed through their throats. Their fingernails were broken, and their fingers were clenched into fists, as if they had been trying to flee the temple with their last bit of strength.
One corpse had even used blood to draw half of a sun symbol on the stone slab.
The trail of blood showed that he had crawled to his death.
"Obviously, it went out of control. Happens all the time on TV shows," Ian said casually. He shrugged helplessly when he saw Cam's confused expression. "Right... I forgot you don't know what a TV show is."
"Anyway, just listen to me, and you'll be fine. Stay here and don't move. You can either stay here or take your companions' bodies and leave. I'll go scout ahead. If fate allows, I'll bring you back two oranges."
Ian's words were as incomprehensible as the Nile River itself.
Under Cam's increasingly bewildered gaze, Ian stepped over the threshold and walked into the temple.
The moment he passed through the outer gate, he smelled a strange scent in the air.
It was a rotten sweetness, like aged honey mixed with the stench of internal organs. Ian walked over to the bodies of the old priest and the others who had warned him previously.
The man wore the gold-patterned robes of a high-ranking priest, and a temple scepter hung from his chest.
Ian turned over the man's hand and noticed burn marks on his fingertips, the result of forcibly casting a high-tier sealing spell.
"He was trying to seal something, but he failed," Ian murmured. "He knew the only thing left for him to do was to kill himself, just like those people outside who tried to escape but couldn't."
Ian gave the corpse one final glance before turning toward the temple's main gate.
The heavy bronze doors were slightly ajar. A sickly sweet odor, like rotten roses mixed with rust, seeped from the narrow gap.
Ian pushed the door open and stepped into the temple's grand hall.
Inside, there was only deathly silence.
The light within the temple had taken on a sickly amber hue, as if the air itself were decaying. Ian's footsteps echoed strangely through the corridor. The Sun God reliefs on the walls had somehow transformed into twisted, tumor-like bulges.
When he touched one of the reliefs, the pad of his finger felt a nauseating elasticity.
It was unmistakably living tissue, squirming.
"What a sanity-draining place," Ian muttered.
The moment his Lumos Charm illuminated the temple's vaulted ceiling, it sounded as if thousands of infants were crying at once.
The Sun God reliefs on the walls were melting. The golden chariot of Ra, crafted from pure gold, sagged like melting wax. Droplets of molten gold fell, but before reaching the ground, they transformed into flying insects with compound eyes.
"Fiendfyre!"
Ian's wand exploded with a ring of blue flames, incinerating the swarm of insects rushing toward him.
The fire illuminated the end of the corridor.
Seven priests hung from a crystal chandelier, swaying. Spider-like bone appendages extended beneath their white robes. Clearly, they had already begun to mutate before committing suicide and becoming sacrifices meant to nourish the evil god's embryo.
"AAARGH...!"
A shrill scream echoed from ahead.
Ian drew his wand and rushed toward the sound.
When he turned the third corner, the scene before him made him stop abruptly. A bloodstained white scepter rolled to his feet. The golden sun disc at its head had been shattered.
Twenty paces away, an old priest, also covered in blood, was being cornered by something.
It was the Scepter Priest.
What he faced was one of the minions created by the evil god's embryo that they had manufactured themselves.
Another Ghost Bride.
This was not the same Ghost Bride that Ian had placed under the Paradox command earlier. This one wore a bloodstained wedding dress and floated three inches above the ground. Her black hair drifted as if alive, moving despite the still air.
When she turned her face... Ian's stomach twisted violently.
There was no face beneath the red bridal veil.
Only a mass of constantly shifting black mist vaguely forming the outlines of facial features before collapsing again.
"No...! I'm not a sacrifice! I'm your servant!"
The Scepter Priest roared desperately, trying to beg for mercy, but it was useless. He had no way to communicate with the Embryo controlling the Ghost Bride.
Seeing that he was about to be captured, the priest refused to simply wait for death.
"In the name of Ra!"
He suddenly raised both hands high. His torn sleeves revealed arms covered in blackened veins.
"Burn!"
A blazing white pillar of fire descended from above and engulfed the Ghost Bride.
Ian smelled the stench of burning flesh. But the next second, his blood ran cold. The red wedding dress within the flames remained completely intact. The flames passed through the spirit as if it were a phantom.
The Ghost Bride raised a hand.
Her mistlike fingers gently brushed the old priest's forehead.
"That's impossible!" The priest screamed in terror. "I used the highest-level purification spell! How could you..."
The Ghost Bride did not answer.
She simply lifted her hand and spread her fingers.
A blood-red thread shot from her fingertips, instantly piercing the Priest's right leg. He screamed and collapsed to his knees.
"Cage of Light!"
With the last of his strength, the Priest slammed his scepter against the ground.
A golden barrier instantly formed, separating him from the Ghost Bride.
She crashed against the barrier.
The light screen trembled violently, cracks appearing across its surface—but it did not shatter.
"It worked?!" Hope flashed in the Priest's eyes.
But the Ghost Bride merely raised her hand slowly and traced a line in the air with her fingertip.
The barrier tore apart like paper.
"No… no…" The Priest staggered backward, trembling. "You're not Altos… you're not human… you're… a monster…"
The Ghost Bride advanced.
Her blood-red mouth opened, and black mist poured out, forming a twisted tendril that lunged toward the Priest's throat.
The Priest roared:
"Thunder of the End!"
He raised the scepter high.
A bolt of dark violet lightning struck down from the ceiling, hitting the Ghost Bride directly.
Her body turned to charred ash in the lightning. Her head exploded. Her limbs shattered.
The hall fell into silence.
The Priest collapsed to the ground, panting heavily.
"It's over… it's over…"
At that moment—
The charred corpse began to writhe.
Black mist surged from the cracks in the floor, piecing the fragments of flesh back together.
The head regrew.
Skin regenerated.
The red bridal veil reappeared.
The Ghost Bride returned—completely restored.
She slowly lifted her head, her crimson eyes locking onto the Priest.
The corners of her mouth split open, revealing a ghastly, blood-filled maw.
"W-what are you?!" the Priest screamed in despair. "I used the Temple's highest-level magic! Why can't you be killed?!"
The Ghost Bride gave no reply.
She merely raised her hand.
Blood-threads lashed out like whips, wrapping around the Priest's neck and slowly lifting him into the air, dragging this former servant away to be fed to the Embryo.
Ian transformed into a raven.
Hidden at the boundary between reality and illusion, he followed behind.
(End of Chapter)