Cursed Immortality

Chapter 1292: The Blasphemer! (2)

After witnessing that impossible scene, the abyss remained silent for several breaths before the God of Hollow Undead’s voice finally emerged.

“…Impossible.” His words were barely audible, but the ancient altar trembled.

Destin Saint’s expression seemed to have changed slightly as he immediately noticed the alteration in the Undead Skyfall’s demeanor. The God of Hollow Undead seemed to be gritting his teeth beneath the countless layers of suppression.

The Undead Skyfall spoke, “Destin Saint.”

“Hm?”

“I need your help.”

For the first time since their meeting, there was no arrogance in the Undead Skyfall’s voice, but only suppressed anger and something else…caution!

“I’ve sensed something wrong with the ritual.”

Destin Saint’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and no one knew what he was thinking.

The God of Hollow Undead continued reluctantly, “I hate to admit it…”

His voice became colder. “But that ant might be responsible for this.”

A brief silence followed before he continued with a hint of raging fury, “He is strange.”

Destin Saint stared at the altar thoughtfully. The God of Hollow Undead had been confident enough to call the intruder an ant only moments ago. But now he was asking for help.

The Fateless Celestial’s faceless face flickered subtly before he nodded, “Of course.”

The next moment, his gaze shifted toward Alexandra. “Miss.”

Alexandra looked over with a hint of a frown.

“Would you be so kind as to take care of this anomaly for our old timer?” Destin Saint’s smile deepened slightly. “I’m sure he’ll remember you for your troubles.”

Alexandra’s expression changed ever so slightly. She had been silently observing everything from the beginning, and hadn’t spoken because she had no reason to. But now she couldn’t help becoming serious as she glanced toward the passage.

After all, this intruder had managed to interfere with a sacrificial ritual personally designed by the God of Hollow Undead, and that alone was enough to make her wary.

Moreover, there weren’t many people in this battlefield or even in the entire Middle Plains who could truly threaten her. But an unknown being capable of disrupting a God’s ritual while standing inside his Divine Temple was another matter entirely.

More importantly, she was curious about what kind of person could accomplish something like this.

Nonetheless, she also thought about two existences who had the means to achieve the same feat, especially the second one from the Void.

Alexandra’s eyes narrowed as she said gravely, “What if it’s one of ‘them’?”

Destin Saint became silent as he had already suspected the same thing because only the Cursed One and the Immortal Nimrod were capable of doing something like this. But this thought process was slightly different than Alexandra’s.

‘Immortal Nimrod didn’t have any reason to disrupt the God of Hollow Undead’s recovery of this amount of power. But then again, if he sensed danger from him, he’d surely react.

‘But then he’ll lose the element of surprise, and it wasn’t his style to give away his advantage so easily. Then it’s probably the Cursed One, since from the countless paths I’ve envisioned, coming to the Undead Skyfall Prison had the highest probability of encountering him.

‘Yet, I wasn’t expecting it would be so soon, and from the God of Hollow Undead’s early reaction, he had already encountered him, and even lost…’

Destin Saint became wary as he still couldn’t forget what had happened the last time he encountered the Cursed One.

Ever since he had activated the Winter of Past and regressed time and space, Destin Saint had been living in constant restlessness because of the anomalous action Jacob had taken to completely change the predetermined outcome.

Destin Saint hated to admit it and hated even more to think about it, but the Cursed One might be immune to one of his strongest Godly abilities. However, he still likes to think it was just a fluke and that there might be some backlash from using the Winter of Past in the Middle Plains.

Nonetheless, Destin Saint was even more determined to capture the Cursed One and integrate him because if the latter could really resist his Godly abilities, then he was even more dangerous than Immortal Nimrod.

As for sending out Alexandra despite knowing it could be the Cursed One outside, Destin Saint won’t hesitate to use her as a discarded pawn to gauge the Cursed One’s hidden powers, especially since he was able to disrupt the God of Hollow Undead’s ritual despite being at his current level.

“Don’t worry.” Destin Saint calmly replied while completely hiding his own schemes, “I have complete confidence in you, Miss. Even if it turned out to be one of ‘them’, I don’t think they can stop you if you want to leave. Have some faith in yourself, not to mention you still have the Cloak of Occult.”

Alexandra’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but she couldn’t deny Destin Saint’s words and couldn’t ask him to go himself because he would probably have many excuses ready.

Moreover, she still didn’t remember what happened before Destin Saint used the Winter of Past, or she might not be together with him. Not to mention, Destin Saint hadn’t been honest about the true terror of Immortal Nimrod either and had only told her what he wanted her to know.

She was still confident in herself and her abilities, not to mention this was a chance to claim back her Universal Godly Artifact if it was really the Cursed One outside without Destin Saint’s constant monitoring.

After considering this point, she gave a small nod, “Alright.”

The moment her voice fell, her figure blurred, but there was no spatial fluctuation, law, or sound, and no sign of visible technique; her body simply faded into the surrounding darkness as though she had never been there.

In the blink of an eye, Alexandra vanished.

Destin Saint watched the darkness where she had disappeared before turning his attention back toward the ancient lock.

The God of Hollow Undead remained silent, but deep within the prison, something had changed. For countless ages, he had waited for this moment; he had calculated every possibility, prepared every sacrifice, manipulated an entire undead empire, and even endured the humiliation of remaining sealed for ages beyond counting.

Freedom had finally been within reach, yet now someone was stealing his sacrifice, and that someone was standing inside his Divine Temple.

The God of Hollow Undead’s ghastly eyes slowly narrowed. For the first time in countless ages, a genuine killing intent emerged from beneath the suppression of the prison.

“Ant…” His voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’ll personally imprison your soul for eternity once I’m free!”