Chapter 55: The Spirit Cult? Shall We Dance Together?

Chapter 55: The Spirit Cult? Shall We Dance Together?

In the evening, a bonfire was lit on the open ground by the lake.

Around the bonfire, seven or eight small sticks were planted, skewering fish of various sizes, all gutted and splayed open.

Maric glanced at the charred fish skewer in his hand, then cast a look at Hastur across from him.

The whole scene felt somewhat absurd, almost surreal.

Hastur Campbell, the young and handsome baron, the last heir of the Campbell family, should have been a noble known for his elegance.

But now, his actions of diving into the water to catch fish and then grilling them were more skilled than the abilities honed from Maric's years of living rough.

Was this the release of his true nature in the wilderness?

Facing Maric's scrutinizing gaze, Hastur naturally bit into a piece of fish, frowning slightly, "It's a pity there are no spices here."

The fish was a bit fishy, certainly not due to his poor grilling skills, but because there were no spices to enhance the flavor.

Come to think of it, he hadn't experienced the taste of spiciness in a long time; spicy grilled fish would have tasted better.

"Have you been repressed for too long?"

Maric spoke, secretly tossing his burnt fish skewer into the fire.

"More accurately, I wanted to try something new."

"…You nobles really have too much free time."

"Yes, most nobles do have a lot of free time; they don't need to worry about material needs."

"Is that also why you wanted to step into the extraordinary world?"

Hastur didn't continue the discussion with Maric on these valueless topics and quickly shifted the conversation to Miss Sharon.

He was very interested in Miss Sharon's past life, having heard Maric's version of the adventure stories, and now he wanted to hear Miss Sharon's version.

But Miss Sharon was clearly not one to talk much or introduce herself.

"Sharon is different from me; she has been like this since childhood, quiet, not fond of speaking, loathing noise. Apart from liking pretty dresses, it's hard to find other girlish aspects in her."

"Her teacher was a very capable person. Sharon learned and grew quickly. If not for that accident, her life would have been far more splendid and secure than it is now, without the need to risk danger by hiding in Beckland."

"She has never complained about the hardships of life. No matter how the world changes, no matter how perilous, she always follows the principles she holds dear and keeps moving forward."

Hastur listened silently, then curiously asked, "Didn't Miss Sharon ever do something mischievous or out of the ordinary?"

"Of course, when she was a child…"

Maric stopped abruptly at the crucial moment, coughing lightly, "I was young then, and I don't remember some things very clearly."

He felt that if he dared to reveal Sharon's embarrassing childhood moments in front of Hastur, he would surely get beaten up.

"Maric, being good at sharing is a virtue."

"I'm sorry, my virtues have always hovered in the doldrums."

"Just the two of us here, do we still need to worry about such things?"

"Heh, do I look stupid?"

"Sigh."

Seeing that he couldn't persuade Maric, Hastur didn't press further.

After chatting for a while, Maric returned to his zombie squad, while Hastur flattened the grass. He originally wanted to fetch a blanket to spread out, but later dismissed the idea.

To play the barbarian, one must go all out.

A life too civilized is not suitable for a barbarian.

Late at night, a faint mist rolled in, adding a chill to the air.

Hastur, lying on the ground near the bonfire, woke from his sleep and listened intently for a moment, indeed hearing the whistle sound mentioned by Maric.

Are the people of the Spirit Cult so idle? Do they come to these deep mountains and forests every night to hold dances?

Or are they conducting some ritual, and it has reached a critical moment? "Shall we go take a look?"

Hastur's contemplation was interrupted by Maric's sudden voice. He got up from the ground and looked towards Maric, who was approaching with his zombie squad.

"Didn't you say the whistle sound could cause the zombies to mutate?"

"Don't worry, I'll keep them away from here. It'll just be the two of us going to take a look."

"Alright, I'll go with you."

Hastur accepted Maric's invitation, also interested in what the Spirit Cult was up to.

"I'll go handle this first; wait here for me."

Maric led the zombie squad away and managed to suppress any changes that might occur in them before returning to meet up with Hastur.

The two, guided by the moonlight and following the source of the whistle sound, carefully made their way.

After about twenty minutes, they saw a firelight deep in the dense forest.

Even under the layers of forest cover, the firelight was very bright.

If they were indeed conducting a ritual, it must be on a large scale.

Hastur and Maric exchanged glances, both knowing they needed to be more cautious on the path ahead.

Pushing aside obstructing branches and vines, Maric led the way with Hastur following behind, inching closer to the source of the firelight and whistle sound.

Approaching closer, Hastur and Maric faintly heard voices from the direction of the firelight.

Words like "soul hell," "lord of the dead," and "happiness in the afterlife" were mentioned repeatedly.

From this information, Hastur could confirm that the organization causing trouble tonight was definitely the Spirit Cult, but which faction it was, he could not yet determine.

The Spirit Cult, although worshipping death and believing in the Death God at the pinnacle of the death pathway, was internally divided into several factions.

There were the Royal Faction, the Artificial Death God Faction, the Eternal Sleep Faction, the Underworld Faction, and a few other smaller factions.

Each faction had different goals and pursuits.

The Royal Faction advocated for supporting the descendants of the Death God and held great power in the Southern Continent; the Artificial Death God Faction explored the uniqueness of reviving the Death God from the depths of the underworld, the most insane and dangerous faction.

The Eternal Sleep Faction simply believed that people's souls remained in the world after death, and only by allowing the souls to rest could they find happiness in the next life, with the Death God being the one who governed the rest of the souls.

This faction was very calm, with good intentions, and was the easiest to deal with, aligning more with the authority of the Goddess of the Night.

The Underworld Faction advocated for summoning creatures from the underworld, similar to a branch of summoning.

Hastur didn't know much about the other factions.

"Shall we continue?"

Maric gave Hastur a look.

"Be careful."

Hastur nodded, agreeing to the idea of continuing to investigate.

They tiptoed forward, cautiously approaching closer.

Through the gaps in the foliage, they could vaguely see a group of people circling around the bonfire, dancing an uncoordinated ritual dance.

Maric's expression was solemn, while Hastur appeared more relaxed.

The fact that even the ritual dance was so loose and disorganized suggested that these were not the regular troops of the Spirit Cult, but more likely its auxiliary members.

"Should we leave first and then report to the Church of the Night?" Maric suggested in a low voice.

"…"

Hastur looked at Maric in surprise; wasn't this kind of behavior more his forte?

Maric, a member of a non-orthodox church organization, now had such high awareness?

"The Church of the Night takes these extraordinary events seriously," Maric said, not understanding Hastur's complex gaze, and spoke again in a low voice.

"No rush, let's watch a bit longer."

Hastur spoke, signaling Maric to continue leading the way.

They moved deeper, coming within about fifteen meters of the blazing bonfire.

They could now clearly see the people dancing around the fire, thanks to the light.

There were elderly people, middle-aged men starting to lose hair, young people, children, men and women of all ages.

The firelight reflected on their faces, revealing a deep sadness beneath their calm and devout expressions.

After the dance, some couldn't control their sorrowful emotions and began to sob quietly, while others blew on brass whistles, their wailing sounds causing the surrounding temperature to drop further.

Could they be summoning some creatures from the spirit world? Should I activate my spiritual vision to check?

As Hastur pondered, Maric had already activated his spiritual vision, and from his not-so-pleasant expression, it was clear he must have seen some incredible creatures from the spirit world.

"Is there any danger?"

"Not for now," Maric made his judgment.

Hastur let go of his worries, gently rubbing his fingers together, activating his spiritual vision.

The first thing that caught his eye was a huge, bloated creature from the spirit world.

It resembled a toad but lacked limbs and could only lie on the ground.

Its head was enormous; compared to it, the bonfire was just a small flame, and the group of dancing people combined wouldn't be enough for it to swallow in one bite.

It seemed very quiet, only showing slight emotional fluctuations when the whistle sounded.

Besides this largest toad-shaped spirit world creature, there were several smaller ones. They watched the brass whistles with open eyes, occasionally emitting whimpers and urging sounds.

Could all these be messengers summoned by the

Could all these be messengers summoned by the brass whistles?

These people, do they not even have one among them who can see spirits?

Hastur was puzzled, yet he felt it couldn't be that simple.

The toad-shaped spirit world creature was too massive, and its behavior indicated that it possessed considerable intelligence.

It likely wasn't a messenger but a spirit world entity that had made a pact with humans.

Who would want a messenger so large that by the time it delivered a message, who knows how much time would have passed?

Could this be the Spirit Cult's proselytizing site?

As Hastur's thoughts surfaced, he heard a well-dressed, refined-looking middle-aged man by the bonfire speak in their direction with a smile:

"Two friends from afar, would you like to join us in a dance?"

(End of Chapter)