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Reverend Cultivation

”Life is nothing but a dream that could end in an instant. Throughout my life, I have pursued a single dream, a dream that appears near while still infinitely far from me. Will this dream ever be realized?” Living his life pursuing a dream that appeared Distant for 700 years, The life of this mortal named Louvain came to an end at last. But is it truly the end? ****** (Tags: Antihero protagonist, body tempering, cold mc, cunning Mc, depictions of cruelty, hard-working mc, mature mc, philosophical, no harem!) (Author note: In this novel, you will get a vicious and apathetic mc. If you are a person who cherishes morality, please go away.) The image doesn't belong to me, if the owner wants to take it down, please inform me.

chaotic_1 · Fantasie
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52 Chs

(18) Array deep within alleyway

Blood dyed the floor red, and the rusty smell of the blood covered the area.

Taking the dagger from Mangrel, Mar skinned the thigh before him and took out deep red meat, which had the same appearance as beef. It had a glossy and soft texture, appearing to be very appetizing.

However, most who knew its origin would vomit at first sight.

Mars began eating the odorless meat of the human, not at all caring about the taste.

Mangrel turned to the dead body of the woman, a little away from him.

Even after looking at the dead body for a while, Mangrel did not move an inch. In the end, he could only shake his head internally.

'I feel thirsty but drinking blood should be kept as a last resort. Humans can't digest blood and because of its rich iron content, it can prove to be toxic for me too.' Mangrel discarded the idea of drinking blood.

Picking up the clothes of the women, Mangrel began cleaning his hand. After cleaning the blood thoroughly, he threw away the piece of cloth which had fully turned red by now.

Picking up the rag, which had the algae in it, Mangrel walked up to Mars.

"When do those people dispose of the bodies stored here?" Mangrel asked a crucial question.

"...Once a month." Gulping the meat in his mouth, Mars answered with a strange tone.

This did not go unnoticed by Mangrel, the doubt he had been harboring for a while, arose this instant.

"How long has it been since you began eating humans like this?"

Mars answered after thinking for a few seconds: "Around five months."

Mangrel at once felt many things out of place.

There was no way the cultivator disposing of the bodies wouldn't know about cannibalism. It might be that they ignored it, but there was no way they wouldn't move when it went on for five months straight.

If Mars was afflicted by a disease and then he spread it across the beggars, the situation would turn for the worst for sure.

If they had common sense, the cultivator must be aware of this fact too.

'Then, why did they do nothing to Mars?' Mangrel felt his instinct tingling, he could tell that something was going on.

"What do you do when people come to collect the dead bodies?" Mangrel jumped to the next question, he did not care that he was disturbing Mars, eating his food.

"I moved out the day before that." Fear appeared on Mars while saying this.

"Can you tell me more about it? You don't have to worry, No matter how absurd it might be, I will believe you." Mangrel read Mars's thoughts like an open book. He had a feeling that this matter was connected to some mystery.

After a little hesitation, Mars began speaking.

"Actually, the first month, since I started eating corpses here, I almost died once. Suddenly one night, black miasma started appearing out of nowhere, and it enveloped the dead bodies and vanished just like that. It's unbelievable, but the dead bodies really vanished just like that, in thin air. I myself could only escape only because of luck." Mars showed various expressions while explaining, terror was dominant among them.

'I see an array. That too of the dark path, from the look of it, it appears to be a sacrificial type.' From the immense knowledge in his head, many arrays having similar effects passed by his head.

There was no way any spiritualist below two stars could cast such a large-scale spell. There was no way a two-star spiritualist would do such a small task. In the first place, there was no way such a strong spiritualist would stay in the city for long.

'The chances of the beggar organization having a two-star spiritualist is close to zero. So the things here must be an array.' Mangrel used his mental power to the fullest and deduced.

A dark array existed deep within the alleyways, the purpose behind its creation was unknown, but it belonged to the beggar organization. The alleyway was their territory.

Many of his doubts were cleared too.

The reason Mars was not killed by any cultivator was apparent now. There was no cultivator who disposed of the corpses to begin with!

'...And to think that this kid has potential for cultivation. The reason he survived this far with no disease was because he had the potential for cultivation, no doubt.' Mangrel closely looked at Mars, with hidden intentions.

People who have the potential to become a cultivator are different from others. They have a stronger body and have an innate affinity with the origin essence. But this fact could be surpassed by training, the main benefit was that their immune system was stronger than others.

Hence, not many people with talent catch a fever or disease easily.

'With my talent, I must have somewhat of a stronger immune system, but it is nothing compared to Mars. Without a doubt, his potential is very high, around 70℅' Mangrel calmly deduced and felt that he gained a good pawn this time around.

Mars was without a doubt very useful, he would be helpful even after Mangrel became a cultivator. Though whether he could survive up to then was doubtful.

"I believe you. I am sure it must be the work of a cultivator." Mangrel said with no hesitation, understanding the value of this tool.

"Cultivator?"

Seeing Mars's confused face, Mangrel began explaining in simple terms.

"I see, it must be them without a doubt." Mars nodded his head with furrowed brows. He was really interested in the subject of cultivation, but Mangrel appeared to not know much either.

'I can't appear very knowledgeable, in case something unforeseen happens in the future.' Mangrel refused to explain anything further.

"How many days are left until the next clean-up begins?" Mangrel questioned with sharp eyes.

"Around three and a half weeks later," Mars answered and took a bite at the flesh in his hand.

Every month had exactly 40 days, so two weeks had already passed by in the purple month.

"Can I borrow this for a while?" Mangrel pointed at the dagger while crouching beside Mars.

Mars nodded his head after thinking for a second. He was munching on a piece of flesh, holding it from both of his hands. His lips were smeared in dark red blood, and even his clothes had a few drops of blood on them.

Without further ado, Mangrel started walking deeper into the alleyway with the dagger in his hand. Tracking the area using the memory, he arrived before a body, which was facing towards the ground.

Forcing the middle-aged man's corpse to turn around, using both of his hands, Mangrel looked at the blue flower below him. Though its petals were worn out, being pressed by such weight, he did not care.

Opening the clothes worn on the upper half of the corpse. Placing the clothes aside, Mangrel gripped the dagger in his right hand.

Slice!

Slicing open the stomach of the middle-aged man before him, Mangrel placed the algaeist flower within the rags with algae and then properly covered it in algae. He placed it within the stomach, right into the guts.

After closing the stomach, Mangrel flipped the corpse to lay facing down.

"Sigh...." Mangrel breathed in a sigh and walked back to Mars.

Handing the dagger back, Mangrel bid farewell and returned to his habitat to sleep. There was not even a drop of blood on him, he had properly cleaned his hand to be sure.

Keeping a dagger with him brought disadvantages, which could not be ignored easily.

'I have to get up early in the morning...' Mangrel thought while his mind slowly fell asleep.