Wickidor City, a hotel.
It was not nighttime, but the hotel room was pitch-black. The windows were covered with a thick layer of black cloth, so the rare bright sunlight in the winter season could not penetrate the room.
If one looked closely, they could still make out several figures sitting quietly in the room. They were all wearing thin black cloaks, their bodies stiff and unmoving, giving off an indescribably creepy feeling.
If someone walked into this room, they would probably be scared half to death by these corpse-like fellows.
And it was true. These people were believers of the Rotten Bones Church, and all of them were of a higher rank than Carlo, having been corrupted by the Rotten Bones' divine power even more.
Although their brains still retained the thoughts of humans, their bodies had become as dry and stiff as a piece of hardwood. In essence, they could no longer be considered as living beings in the original sense. Instead, they had become existences that were closer to being half-human and half-zombie.
"Your Eminence, why have you come to Wickidor this time …" After who knew how long, the believer sitting beside the bed was the first to break the deathly silence, asking the figure who sat at the head of the table and appeared to be the most venerated.
"The divine blessing in Carlo's body has returned to me," the man who was addressed as' Your Eminence 'said hoarsely. "He's dead."
"What?!" The believer beside the bed was in disbelief.
"Even if Carlo was a mortal with decent swordsmanship, most mortals are no match for him now that he's been blessed by God." A rather voluptuous figure to His Eminence's right was voicing his theory. "Could it be a bishop of the Brilliant White Church who did this? But there's no church of the Brilliant White Church nearby … "
"No, the black corpsefly on his body told me that the culprit was the princess." The man addressed as' Your Eminence 'said.
The originally quiet room was filled with whispers. The others seemed to find this information hard to believe.
Indeed, as the former captain of Tierra's royal guard, Karol's martial prowess was extraordinary among mortals. Aside from overwhelming numbers, the only way to defeat him was to rely on supernatural power. And after Carlo was buffed by the Rotten Bones Church, his movements were a little stiff, but his mortal body's defense and limited stamina were solved. Naturally, his ability improved greatly, and he was now a killing machine.
In comparison, the princess who believed in the nonexistent God of Games was no different from a non-believer. At best, she was a decent swordsman, and would never be a match for Carlo!
"Silence!"
The man addressed as' Your Eminence 'barked with his hoarse voice. Though he wasn't loud, the other believers immediately stopped whispering, and the room returned to silence where even a pin drop could be heard.
After all, the Rotten Bones Church wasn't a harmonious religion that worshipped 'good for you, good for me, and good for everyone'. Survival of the fittest was the foundation of the church, and if it wasn't for the restraints of the gods, everyone would have started fighting each other for the Rotten Bones Divine Power. In such an atmosphere, the words of 'Your Eminence', one of the three archbishops of the Rotten Bones Church naturally carried a lot of weight, and most believers wouldn't dare to disobey him.
"I know you can't believe it, but that's why I'm here in Wickidor."
After finish speaking, His Honor took out a small silver bowl from his cloak, then took out a small glass bottle that was the size of a palm.
He used a somewhat awkward posture to open the bottle and poured the silver liquid into the bowl. After that, he hesitated for a long time. In the end, he used his incomparably sharp nails to cut open the tough skin on his wrist and dripped the pitch-black blood into the small bowl.
Moments later, the silver liquid in the bowl suddenly surged, and a sinister-looking skeleton protruded out of it.
As soon as the skeleton appeared, the surrounding Rotten Bones believers all dropped to the ground as if they were being pressed down by ten thousand tons, reverently and fearfully pressing their heads against the ground.
The skeleton opened its mouth, and even though it didn't have any vocal cords, it still made a sound.
Its voice was like the incomprehensible, ear-piercing noise of a sharp object scraping against a blackboard. It was also like the black swamp gas full of malice that bubbled up from a swamp. It was a blasphemous language that would severely affect the minds of mortals the moment they heard it, and they might even degenerate into the dark races.
It was a voice that even the deaf could hear, and even the blind could see the call of hell and the abyss. Only the most resolute believers of the gods could withstand the terrifying impact of this heresy.
It was the voice of the Evil God.
[I smell the unknown scent of the Evil God!]
[Capture her and sacrifice her to the great Rotten Bones God!]
[I will take away the authority of the Evil God she worships!]
"As you wish, my Lord God."
Only the Rotten Bones Bishop managed to maintain his rationality in the face of his own God's prophecy. He didn't lie on the ground and tremble like the other believers, and he could still answer respectfully.
The skeleton made of silver liquid nodded in satisfaction, then turned back into liquid and disappeared into the bowl.
Only then did the others heave a sigh of relief and raise their heads again.
"Just like what Lord Rotten Bones said, hurry up and find that princess and offer her to our great god! Lord Rotten Bones will be able to devour other Gods and raise his status! Sooner or later, we won't have to hide in the shadows anymore, and we can protest against the other churches that claim to be righteous! " The Rotten Bones Bishop kept the silver bowl, and a different expression appeared on his wrinkled face for the first time. It was a mixture of excitement and fanaticism. "'Rotten Bones shall walk the world'!"
"Rotten Bones shall walk the world!"
☆
"Wilf, are you really not going to reconsider?" The chairman of the Wickidor branch of the Silver Chime Merchant Guild tried to persuade him. "It's hard to find a merchant guild as good as the Silver Chime these days. If you leave now, all the merit points you've left behind will be for nothing! "
"It's fine, I'm already mentally prepared," Marni Wilf said without hesitation.
"Alright, since you've already made up your mind …" The branch president let out a long sigh. In the end, he still signed and stamped the withdrawal application and placed it in an envelope to be sent to the headquarters. "But then again, why are you so determined to withdraw from the guild? Could it be that you've found a new path? "