Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 345: Chapter 247: Aberrant Demon Sacrifice_2

This unease compelled him to urgently seek more information about his surroundings, for it was only by deviating from the route planned by his ancestor that he could uncover the truth. Moreover, they had already left the Witch’s corrupted area behind. What lay ahead was unknown, and he needed to explore and scout further to begin preparing for their journey northward. The condition of the team was good at the moment, and William and Fergus worked very well together, making them quite suitable for mapping out new territories.

”Of course we keep pressing on!” Boudica held her War Halberd high, an excited smile on her face. She preferred to fight monsters rather than return home to do nothing. After all, the others had their jobs, leading either armies or sheriffs. In name, she was the Lord’s trusted aide, but in reality, her role was pretty much the same as Wang Cai’s—who was protecting whom was still up for debate. She used to be able to train the young new recruits at the camp, but now that they had all been dispatched on missions, she was completely idle. The boss, fearing she might cause trouble, wouldn’t let her wander freely. Having rarely left, she certainly didn’t want to return so soon.

”I’m certainly not so old that I need to rest.” Balistan, understanding the Lord’s line of thinking, also knew there was something odd about the situation that warranted further investigation.

”I have no objections,” William, too, desired to be involved in significant undertakings. Not participating in the recent battles had left him feeling somewhat discontent.

”Then let’s begin. The enemy won’t wait for us.”

Lance regrouped his team, using this place as a new starting point for their exploration.

「...」

In the wilderness lay an unnamed village, devoid of elaborate structures or towering walls—merely a scattering of about a dozen thatched cottages surrounded by a rough wooden fence, as basic as could be. Such small hamlets dotted the Empire, often arising as a means for peasants to evade taxes or war, or as refugee settlers seeking to cultivate and farm the wilderness in hiding. In these remote lands, free from the vicious and malicious tax collectors, the soil may have been poor, but everything they grew was theirs. These people would spend most of their energy in the fields, trading for needed goods with nearby towns or passing merchant caravans. They didn’t use money, or rather, lacked the concept of consumption, living a self-sufficient lifestyle.

In certain circumstances, if they could survive the first couple of years, life could become quite prosperous. These settlers often lived more comfortably than many villagers or townsfolk. However, the Empire, the Church, or the local Nobility generally turned a blind eye to this situation. This was because they were too numerous, like weeds that couldn’t be controlled. Also, if a village thrived, over time it would slowly develop, eventually hosting a population and cultivated lands. At that point, either a Missionary would appear, spreading the gospel, or a tax collector would come, to audit and collect taxes.

What? You say you want to refuse?

Then what would arrive would be the Crusaders, out to ”purify” the area, or perhaps a Noble Lord’s army on a bandit-quelling campaign, here to ”suppress rebellion.” Of course, if they were lucky enough not to be discovered, or if their scale remained too small to attract attention, then their good times could continue. Yet as they savored such freedom, they also lost the protection of ”order.”

In comparison to other risks, the Empire and the Church actually appeared to be the most benevolent, because bandits, Slave Catchers, or ill-intentioned passersby wouldn’t wait for the crops to grow before reaping.

「As it was now...」

A woman clad in bizarre attire lifted a uniquely shaped Dagger and slashed the throat of a person who, despite an expression of horror, did not move. Their blood spurted from the wound into the altar below. It was very strange; there was no struggle until all the blood drained away, and the wide eyes gradually dimmed, losing their last spark of life.

After the bleeding had nearly ceased, Catherine finally dragged the corpse, long since devoid of breath, to the side and positioned it properly. Then she sighed deeply, fatigue evident on her face as she murmured, ”The last one.”

Glancing over the ritual’s arrangement, Catherine observed that none of the thirty-two villagers had escaped. They were all here, now just corpses with similar expressions of terror and slit throats. Men, women, the elderly, and children were all mixed together. Even toddlers had become lifeless corpses with grayish pallor to their skin, piled up among the others. The slashed wounds would occasionally ooze droplets of blood, which dripped down, painting an eerily vibrant red across the face of another corpse.

One could see that these bodies formed a triangle. In the middle was a Blood Pool where the fresh blood gathered. A hairless creature resembling a mummified monster sat cross-legged next to the Blood Pool, its hand dipped into it.

Master...

Catherine’s gaze rested on it, her expression a bit strange, as her hand holding the Dagger under the wide sleeve slowly clenched tightly.

Immersed in the ritual, if only I could kill him...

Before she could contemplate further, an unusual sensation arose around her. Catherine retracted her gaze in terror, appearing submissive, because she knew the ritual had begun.

The blood from over thirty people made the Blood Pool quite substantial, but at this moment it was swiftly diminishing, as if devoured by something, or as if flowing into the Void. It wasn’t until the blood receded that one could see the creature’s hand, deep within the Blood Pool, was linked to a rope, which held a triangular pendant.

Simultaneously, the bodies arranged in a triangle began to deform weirdly. Their flesh seemed to be drained of something, rapidly withering and decomposing. The exposed bones, appearing weathered as if ancient, had become dry and brittle; lacking the support of Flesh, they collapsed. But amidst it all, the mummified creature’s body was visibly regaining vitality at a speed visible to the naked eye—muscles bulging, skin tightening and becoming elastic, with its once hollow-cheeked and skull-like face now reverting to the appearance of a middle-aged bald man.

”The pact is complete!”

With those words, the bald man suddenly opened his eyes, revealing a sinister gleam. Feeling the state of his own body, the Bald Sorcerer finally recovered from a long period of debilitating weakness. Still, the recollection of what had happened filled him with a mix of anger and fear.

For so many years, there had never been an error. Who would have thought that what was supposed to be a simple ritual could result in the instant obliteration of that powerful Aberrant Demon from the Void? An inconceivable notion. Yet without the Aberrant Demon’s Sanctuary, he had lost most of his abilities—a fatal situation for an Aberrant Wizard. Most of his powers were derived from the pact signed with that Void Demon, leveraging the demon’s strength through the offering of sacrifices. Also, due to the pact, he suffered backlash and nearly perished. Fortunately, his years of accumulation had paid off, somehow carrying him through.

Just a moment ago, he had used an entire village as a sacrifice, leveraging the Divine Artifact in his hand to reconnect with a new Void Demon and sign a pact, which led to the recovery of his body. Towards this, the bald man felt a deep reverence, even a hint of relief. He might have been in dire straits, but at least he had survived. As for that fool who had lost control and become a Heretic...

This was a taboo for all Transcendents, leading directly to Totnes being placed under martial law, with the Empire and Church vigorously hunting down Transcendents. He was already weakened from the backlash of the ritual and terrified, so he fled into the night. He was certain that various powers were searching for him, the witness to the incident, even suspecting him as the perpetrator being hunted. For some time now, he had felt that watchful presence from the Void. This was why he was so eager to sign a new pact with a Void Demon, even to the extent of massacring a village and conducting such a ritual on Empire land. Only with the Void’s Sanctuary could he escape those prying eyes; he was not willing to be further implicated in this affair.

However, returning to Totnes seemed impossible. The residual fluctuations from his ritual would soon be discovered by those chasing him, and then they would catch up. Blamed for a great calamity he had not caused and forced into flight, the bald man did not know whom he had offended, but he knew he could not stay long.

”Let’s go...” the Bald Sorcerer stood, leading his servants away from the place. He headed northward, knowing only by delving into the chaos there could he obscure his tracks. Furthermore, he needed more sacrifices to regain his strength and please the newly connected Void Demon.

The demise of a village was that arbitrary. By the time the bones were discovered, it would be in some unknown year...