Good News, The Ceremony Goes Smoothly

Upon hearing the prayers uttered by the sinister cultist priest, Duncan immediately halted his attempt to sever his soul projection and return to the Lost Homeland.

He stared at the masked priest before him, who had just finished his fervent prayer, as if he were staring at a fool. Duncan watched as the priest raised a dagger, seemingly carved from obsidian, high above his head. The surrounding worshippers grew excited, chanting in unison the name of their "lord"—the "True Sun God," who, according to legend, had fallen and fragmented many years ago.

They intended to offer Duncan, their "sacrifice," to the Sun God by presenting his heart.

Now, Duncan finally understood the gruesome scene he had witnessed in the cave earlier and the depraved actions of these cultists.

Then, he saw the masked priest take a step toward him. The obsidian dagger in the priest's raised hand suddenly erupted with a layer of pitch-black flames.

This eye-catching supernatural phenomenon piqued Duncan's curiosity. He speculated whether the dagger was some kind of "anomalous" object, whether the priest before him was a "special human" capable of wielding extraordinary powers, how many such special humans existed within the civilized world, and what social roles they might play.

All the while, he watched emotionlessly as the flame-engulfed dagger plunged into his chest, piercing through layers of tattered cloth with a hollow thud.

The flames burned inside for a moment, but found nothing to consume.

Behind him, on the totem pole, the raging fireball suddenly emitted a series of disconcerting crackling noises, mixed with a dizzying, tearing sound. Duncan vaguely sensed something cold and maddening emanating from the fireball—a sensation he couldn't describe, not only because the temporary body he occupied had dulled senses, but also because it transcended any previous experiences he'd had. He knew only one thing: in this world where extraordinary phenomena truly existed, the priest's sacrificial ceremony had undoubtedly gone terribly awry.

The sudden anomaly on the totem pole, symbolizing the sun, immediately caught the attention of the closest worshippers. With a few suppressed gasps, the frenzied atmosphere quieted down. Even the two black-robed men who had been tightly gripping Duncan's arms seemed to be intimidated by something and let go in fear, prostrating themselves before the totem pole. The priest holding the obsidian dagger remained frozen in place, still clutching the blade's handle, but his gaze fixed on the face of the "sacrifice." Through the holes in his mask, Duncan could see a pair of eyes filled with confusion and turmoil.

Duncan tugged at the corners of his stiff mouth, finally managing to squeeze out a sinister smile. Slowly, he raised his right hand and placed it on the priest's hand gripping the obsidian dagger. Wisps of green flames flowed and seeped like water, slowly entwining themselves around the dagger's handle.

Almost instantly, Duncan felt the "feedback" from the dagger. Strangely, however, this sensation was weak and hollow, as if the dagger was some sort of inferior imitation, housing only a small amount of "borrowed power" within its empty shell.

But for him, whether the dagger was an imitation or not was unimportant.

Duncan grinned at the priest, speaking in a calm and unhurried manner, "I have two things to say."

In the next instant, the priest felt the connection between him and the obsidian dagger abruptly disrupted by some external force. His fervent faith in the Sun God, it seemed, had collided with an unyielding barrier, severing it completely.

"First, I am a man with a broad chest—as you can see, it's this wide."

Duncan ripped off the tattered cloth that was already in shreds, revealing a horrifyingly large hole in his chest. Through this terrible hole, the officiating priest could clearly see the scene behind Duncan.

"Second, try to avoid offering your lord expired food."

Duncan gently pushed the priest's hand away. Somehow, after wrapping the obsidian dagger with his green ethereal flame, the priest seemed to have lost much of his strength. So much so that even Duncan's frail body could easily push away the large man. After being pushed away, the priest seemed to suddenly snap back to his senses. Overwhelmed with terror and rage, he trembled and pointed at Duncan, as if trying to regain control of the ritual with a loud shout, "Reanimated filth! A resurrected soul! You have defiled this sacred sacrificial ceremony! Filth... which reckless necromancer stands behind you?! Are you not afraid of the power of the Sun?!" "I don't understand what you're saying," Duncan glanced at the obsidian dagger in his hand, feeling the weak feedback of power while speaking offhandedly. He looked at the priest before him and listened to the crackling noise coming from the totem pole behind him. A bold and whimsical idea suddenly came to mind, "But I suddenly want to satisfy my curiosity." With that, he abruptly raised the obsidian dagger in his hand, and in front of a crowd of black-robed believers still in a state of confusion and fear, he pointed at the masked priest and shouted: "O, most high and holy Sun God! Please accept the offering from this platform! I offer you the heart of this sacrifice, may you return from blood and fire!" The next second, he saw the flames on the obsidian dagger suddenly surge, and the cold sensation emanating from the totem pole behind him retracted and pointed towards the nearby masked priest. Duncan saw the priest's eyes widen in terror, seemingly wanting to flee from the platform immediately. However, the dagger was faster. The dagger flew straight out of Duncan's hand, guided by some invisible force, engulfed in roaring black flames intertwined with faint green fire. It pierced straight into the priest's chest, and with a wretched scream, the cult leader's chest was penetrated, his heart turning to ashes in an instant. In the next second, the dagger returned to Duncan's hand. And with just that back and forth motion, the little power contained within it seemed to be completely depleted.

Within the sacrificial range of the evil cult's altar, there were two people - one with a heart and one without. A certain evil god desired to taste a human heart today, so who would lose their heart?   Naturally, it would be the one with a heart.   Yet, even if this logic held, the smoothness of the entire event still exceeded Duncan's expectations. He hadn't anticipated that his whimsical "attempt" would actually work. It wasn't until he saw the evil cult priest fall that he turned to look at the now calm totem behind him and muttered in a peculiar tone, "So as long as the words are right, it doesn't matter who gives it?"   Of course, the fireball on the totem pole would not answer his question. However, the evil cultists surrounding the altar had obviously regained their senses by now. Enormous panic was inevitable, but amidst the panic, more fanatical believers exploded with anger - an anger that even surpassed the fear they felt when the totem showed anomalies earlier!   A few evil cultists closest to the altar reacted first, charging towards Duncan while shouting the name of the Sun God. These boldest believers quickly incited more people, and a large group of black-robed figures rushed forward like madmen, some even pulling out short swords and daggers from under their robes.   Duncan originally intended to shout, "I offer all the hearts on the altar to the Sun God" to test the mysterious evil god's appetite, but immediately abandoned the idea when he saw that some of the charging cultists had even drawn revolvers from their pockets. Considering the time it took for the sacrificial ritual to take effect and the "accurate and fast within seven steps" principle, he simply and decisively flipped off the cultists and severed his soul's projection state.   Let these lunatics continue their madness; he was going back to the Lost Land.   Meanwhile, on the vast, boundless sea, rhythmic footsteps echoed on the deck of the Lost Land.   Alice, the puppet dressed in a magnificent gothic gown, left her room and arrived at the captain's cabin door.   The exquisite wooden box did not follow Miss Puppet this time but was left inside her room.

The captain had said that she was free to move about in the cabins below the deck and on the deck itself, and if she had any questions or needed clarification, she could come directly to the captain's cabin.

  Alice remembered it very clearly.