Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Chapter 1278: Chapter 1276: Loss of Image (20)

Not entirely dull-witted.

Lord Orintel, the Sect envoy, while far from being sharp-sighted, at least cooperated reasonably well with the guidance provided.

Looking at Jane lying on the ceiling, Fu Qian let out a word of praise, greatly pleased by this development.

Admittedly, today had been rather unfortunate for the noblewoman.

But on the bright side, her exquisite silk nightgown, which was clearly affected as part of the whole anomaly, now also hung “suspended” on the ceiling.

Otherwise, with everyone gazing upward, the scene would have been quite indecent.

This incident further substantiated his earlier observations—the effect of the decree acted upon a conceptual target rather than the mundane physical definitions of flesh and blood.

Fu Qian was reasonably confident that even under such supernatural circumstances, if a blood sample were taken from Jane for Insight, the results would be entirely normal.

Meanwhile, faint intricate markings similar to those appearing on Orintel earlier began surfacing on Jane’s exposed feet, intertwining and linking together.

However, one distinct difference was apparent: these markings did not shimmer as brightly.

They carried a faint metallic sheen amidst dark-red tones, resembling whirlpools extending from her flesh to her skin—a blend of malice and elegance.

Of course, this assessment was purely Fu Qian’s subjective aesthetic opinion.

Clearly, most people in the bedroom felt far more horror than appreciation.

Among them was Lord Orintel.

“How could it turn out like this… It’s supposed to resemble a decree…”

It was evident that his worldview had taken a hit.

“My Lord!”

On the ceiling, Jane was clearly losing her composure, struggling as she bent her head downward and called out.

Her reaction could hardly be blamed on her; gravity, as an innate experience, when manipulated and inverted, engendered a near-total loss of any sense of security—as though the whole world had abandoned her.

“Empty your mind and try severing that connection.”

This suggestion snapped Orintel out of his muttering, prompting him to instinctively shout back.

“Alright!”

Jane immediately accepted the advice, summoning her willpower to force her gaze away from her feet and, moments later, shutting her eyes entirely.

“It’s not working…”

About ten seconds later, still pinned firmly to the ceiling, she finally succumbed to exhaustion and, once again, pleaded for help with her eyes directed at Orintel.

She didn’t even wait for further guidance; as if sensing something, she suddenly yanked her sleeve upward.

A streak of dark-red markings was snaking its way along, nearly reaching her wrist.

If it had spread this far, one could only imagine the state beneath her nightgown.

Orintel’s suggestion had clearly failed to control the situation.

…

“Lord Orintel?”

This sight was too much for Mrs. Winslow to bear; she finally rushed forward, attempting to pull her daughter down directly.

“Don’t pull—get ready to catch her.”

Orintel’s expression turned increasingly grim, but he still issued a cold reminder.

The next moment, radiant markings flared up in his hands, quickly converging into a unique pattern before exploding into a dazzling halo upon formation.

The entire bedroom seemed to shudder as the halo swept through, cleansing the dark malignancy and dispersing all the anomalies.

This ability bore a striking resemblance to Amila’s earlier invocation, though differing in scope and intensity—akin to the distinction between the Purifying Benevolence Charm and the Alchemy Technique.

Fu Qian, watching unobtrusively, silently offered his comment.

Now responding to Orintel’s directive, the Winslow couple stepped aside, preparing to catch their falling daughter. Yet they froze in place, gazing upward with shocked expressions.

As the imposing halo surged through the room, Jane, still suspended on the ceiling, remained entirely unscathed. Neither a free fall nor even a flutter of her clothes occurred.

“How could this be…”

The room fell momentarily silent. Amid the complicated gazes of the anxious parents, Orintel’s rationality was visibly strained once more.

“This isn’t Star Law!”

Nonetheless, he was a decisive figure. Gritting his teeth, he promptly reached a conclusion.

“How is that possible?”

Mrs. Winslow looked on, nearly passing out—these abrupt twists and turns were fraying her nerves to the brink.

“Could it be a mistake? Let’s try again?”

“I might make mistakes, but Star Law doesn’t.”

Orintel shook his head firmly. His tone was resolute.

“Under that previous effect, all anomalies—including decrees—should have been purged completely—”

“She defies the influence of decrees?”

Natalie gasped sharply from the side, as though realizing something dreadful.

Fu Qian naturally knew what she was hinting at—those forsaken by the mist, to some extent, could defy decrees.

For her, the situation seemed to have turned in her favor, a glimmer of hope amid despair.

“Indeed…”

As expected, Orintel’s expression shifted immediately following Natalie’s remark; he swiftly turned his gaze to the Winslow couple.

“Step aside!”

“Lord Orintel?”

Mr. Winslow not only refused to move but took a step forward.

It was evident he had quickly deduced Orintel’s intentions.

Sadly, his cleverness held no weight here. Flames were already igniting in Orintel’s hand—a metallic-colored blaze swirling into existence.

Fu Qian instantly recognized it: the Lead Flame, wielded earlier by both the Sect Hunter and Reginald—a weapon tailored for vanquishing supernatural entities.

This wasn’t a negotiation; regardless of the family’s objections, Orintel proceeded without hesitation.

Moments later, the Lead Flame coiled itself into a serpent shape, locking onto the stunned Jane.

“Run!”

Instinctively thrust into action by her father’s desperate shout, Jane’s shock broke. Trusting her father implicitly, she scrambled up amid fear, somehow even managing to walk a few steps across the ceiling.

The grotesque transformation unfolding upon her form evidently didn’t impair her mobility much. After a brief adjustment, her gaze swept the room; eschewing the doorway, she bolted toward a distant window instead.

Her reaction was swift, but she had no chance to shatter the less-than-transparent glass.

Amid Mrs. Winslow’s shrieks, the Lead Flame Python lashed toward her like a guided missile, coiling and striking.

A dense, muffled explosion ensued, followed by agonized cries and screams.

Jane wasn’t obliterated outright; the serpent seemed meticulously controlled, striking precisely at her legs.

Once the blast subsided, everything below her knees was gone.

The horrific translucent flesh stripped from her body dissolved into ashes, scattering around.

Crashing to the ceiling with a truncated silhouette, Jane still struggled to rise.

“It seems even the clearest-headed can act irrationally at times.”

Deliberately pausing instead of striking again, Orintel glanced at Mr. Winslow, who supported his wife with one hand, clenching the other into a fist.

“You never considered that letting me purify whatever is afflicting Jane might be her only chance of survival?”

“Even if she escapes this place, what about after sunrise? Do you really think she’ll have any chance of eluding the Sect Hunter’s inexorable pursuit?”