Dim magic lamps embedded in the walls on either side emitted a faint blue light, barely illuminating the path ahead, unable to dispel the chill and the smell of mold. The further the stone steps descended, the colder the temperature became, and the cold crept up from the soles of their feet, as if invisible hands were gently tugging at their hems.
After walking for about ten minutes, the stone steps finally reached the end, revealing a narrow corridor ahead. On either side of the corridor were tightly shut iron doors, covered in rust which suggested they hadn't been opened in years. Every door bore complex runes, faintly emitting weak magic fluctuations.
As if to prevent something from escaping from inside.
"I don't know."
The Priestess replied with crisp decisiveness. Her figure appeared especially tall and mysterious in the firelight, clad in a black robe embroidered with intricate patterns, wearing a pointed cap adorned with gemstones. Her face was partially hidden in the shadow of the hood, showing only tightly pressed lips and a determined jawline.
"I reckon it's non-human entities, possibly giants." Ian looked up and saw a heavier iron door at the end of the corridor. It was far larger than the others, its surface covered in mottled rust, and the runes on it were more complex, though some were already indistinct.
It had clearly lost its function long ago.
"Anyway, right now, it stores the zero patient." The Priestess halted, retrieved an ancient key from her robe, and the runes on it flickered eerily in the firelight. She slowly inserted the key into the keyhole, and with the sound of metal scraping, the iron door gradually opened.
The iron door emitted a deep and prolonged creak.
The sight behind the door made Ian involuntarily hold his breath. It was a small and dark room, with only a weak oil lamp hanging in the corner, casting a flickering yellow light. In the center of the room lay a figure on a simple stone bed, completely covered by thick blankets, not exposing a bit of skin.
Like a white sheet covering a corpse.
Underneath the white blanket was an unsettling aura, as if something was lurking behind the door waiting for them, and the oppressive feeling made Ian instinctively draw out his magic wand.
"You actually used the word 'store,' interesting." Ian gave the Priestess a deep look, indicating for her to enter the room before he slowly followed.
The room wasn't very large, its walls lined with cracks, looking like it might collapse at any moment. The zero patient lay there quietly, just as silent as the corpse Ian had seen on the throne before.
"What other words could I use? He, like those infected seven days later, is no longer themselves, let alone human; the ferry of the Netherworld has taken their souls." The Priestess shrugged, her tone flat, not like a sympathetic priest, her eyes showing calm emotions.
"You're right."
Ian didn't argue. He approached the stone bed and used the magic wand to lift a corner of the blanket, revealing a man as skinny as a rake. His body was almost completely withered, his skin stretched tightly over his bones, exhibiting a bizarre gray-black color, like a decaying mummy, showing no trace of flesh or blood.
"The appearance is exactly the same, all the infected are transforming into the same form, including this zero patient, so... what exactly has he discovered?"
Ian was preparing to check the magical traces on this zero patient when, suddenly, the corpse-like body reached out and grabbed his arm.
"Don't mess around."
Ian directly shrugged off the reaching hand, knowing these alchemical creatures were devoid of souls, with all actions being unconscious behavior.
"You're pretty brave."
The Priestess pulled over a chair and sat beside Ian.
"I'm not just brave, I'm also meticulous. Naturally, what's confusing me right now is how come no one else reacted to this?" Ian pointed the magic wand with the lifted blanket towards the Priestess.
"Crack, crack~"
The Priestess was nibbling on some kind of nut.
She paid no mind to Ian's magic wand but looked at Ian with an expression of amazement—the scene of Ian pointing his magic wand at the Priestess was witnessed by the belated Priest Laine.
"What are you doing!"
He clasped his hands together and suddenly rubbed them, beginning to spark with a crackling white light, like some kind of arc. The elderly priest watched Ian with a vigilant gaze.
"I just want to ask if she might be the Disguise Mage." Ian glanced at Priest Laine with a light laugh while retracting the magic wand, leaving Priest Laine baffled.
"Certainly not."
Priest Laine still looked at Ian with caution.
The magic in his hands did not cease.
His response froze Ian's smile.
"So, indeed there's an issue, correct? Didn't you notice her changing face? Moreover, her personality has changed!" Ian looked at Priest Laine in utter disbelief.
Upon hearing this, Priest Laine was taken aback.
Then he turned and glanced at the Priestess several times.
"I don't know what nonsense you're spewing; is this a ploy to cover up your previous actions?" The elderly priest frowned, looking at Ian with eyes exceptionally wary.
Ian hadn't explained.
"No, no, he's actually not wrong; take a look; it's different." The Priestess set down the nuts she held and adjusted the hood back over her head.
She spun her slender fingers around her face. It was a finely crafted, intriguing face, exuding exotic allure, every inch of her skin glowed with a radiant sheen of jade-like warmth, so fair it was almost translucent, yet it carried a faint blush of healthy pink, akin to a freshly bloomed snow lotus, untouched by dust, pure and immaculate.
Her eyes were deep and bright, like two clear springs—distinctly different from the Priestess's previous appearance, yet so far none of the other priests had noticed.
"????"
Priest Laine was first confused.
Then widened his eyes, filled with disbelief.
"Oh! No! Oh my!"
He seemed to realize something was amiss and dropped to his knees in sudden deference before the Priestess. This turn of events left the Little Wizard bewildered.
"Are you the sneaky infiltrator?"
Ian was quite astonished.
"This is my home, to be precise, my brother's home; coming here feels like returning home, naturally. I'm not physically present here; I borrowed someone else's body."
The Priestess looked at the prostrate Priest Laine.
"Honestly, I blurred the lines of reality, yet it hasn't affected you; that truly surprises me." After speaking, the Priestess turned her gaze back to Ian.
As the Little Wizard blinked.
In the next moment.
The Priestess appeared right in front of Ian.
That face was just inches away.
"Of course, your ability to draw me here clearly indicates there's something extraordinary... child, tell me, why do I detect my scent on you?"
Her face was close to Ian's ear.
The tone gentle.
Her hand, at some unknown moment, had already slipped inside Ian's robe.
"Uh..."
Ian swallowed.
He realized something.
His expression began to stiffen.
Seeing the Priestess extract something from his robe without any movement—only to find, the Priestess's hand held a bottle of milky-white potion.
It was the fertilizer Ian used for the mysterious seeds.
Also the bathwater of the black-robed skeleton.