Chapter 968: "Descending" Saint

The cloth doll turned its lifeless eyes before its body stood up

straight. It looked towards the area that the crimson moonlight failed

to illuminate. There, the man with the lumpy cheek and the other

cultists had been standing quietly, but at this moment, they bowed their

heads, raising their arms as though they were praying, piously listening

to the "revelation."

About two to three seconds later, the cloth doll finally stood up

straight. Just as it was about to open its tongueless mouth and produce

a voice that didn't belong to the "body" it was in, all its movements

suddenly turned sluggish, as though it was a highly-rusted robot.

Hidden amongst the cultists, Klein had seen a strange spirituality

thread extend from the cloth doll. Without any hesitation, he began

controlling it!

Inside the wall lamp-illuminated room, the lights dimmed instantly. The

doll with curved eyes and mouth instantly lost the support that seemed

to arise from having a skeleton before slumping to the table,

motionless.

Amidst the flickering street lights that were more than a thousand

meters away, Klein lost control over the blob of Spirit Body Threads.

The power that descended with the help of the doll took less than two

seconds to escape out of his range!

Whoosh!

A biting-cold wind swept up inside the room as the rug with tables and

chairs above was suddenly tugged, sending the man with the lumpy cheek

and most of the other cultists tumbling. Only the disguised Klein had

jumped up in time to avoid the accident.

Of course, Winner Enzo stood perfectly fine at the border of the rug,

completely unaffected.

Whoosh!

Amidst the cold wind, the rug rolled up and bound the few cultists and

covered their noses and mouth tightly, gripping their throats.

Meanwhile, the fountain pens on the table had their caps removed

autonomously before shooting forward, stabbing into the neck of the man

with the lumpy cheek. They left no gaps in the dense array of pens.

A wooden chair exploded as its splinters swept over without sparing any

of the remaining cultists.

Near the wall, the pipe of a wall lamp cracked, causing the gas inside

to whistle out.

The cloth that draped the sofa rose up, tied itself into a robe, and

wrapped around the train conductor's throat. A few of the floor tiles

flew up, stabbing a few cultists from below.

Instantly, all the items in the room were filled with offensive

capability as though they were attempting to kill all signs of life

inside.

Klein tried to dodge, but his shirt, pants, belt, coat, and hat seemed

to have a life of their own. They forcefully locked him down on the

spot.

He hurriedly opened his mouth and let out a sound: "Pa!"

He had mimicked the sound of snapping fingers.

Scarlet flames surged out from his clothes, instantly blanketing his

body and removing the restraints

At this moment, the cloth on another sofa rose up as though it was

draped over someone.

This strange scene reflected in Klein's eyes immediately as he trembled

and turned stiff. He had been possessed by an evil spirit!

The flames that soared up from before hadn't extinguished. They were

burning away his clothes and flesh, only to reduce him to a pitch-black

paper figurine.

Behind this paper figurine was a pattern covered with feathers. It was a

surreal and illusory feeling.

This was the mutated paper figurine that had been tainted with

Artificial Death's aura!

Klein knew that there were only two situations that were possible for

the doll to mutate. One was that the entity disguising as a god was

nearby and had sensed the deaths of the cultists; hence, preparations

were made via a deliberate descent, laying a trap for the antagonist.

Another was that the one using the doll was indeed some secret

existence. "He" wasn't aware that the sacrificial ritual had been foiled

and descended at the predetermined time to give the next round of

"revelations."

And regardless of which situation it was, it meant danger. Therefore,

how could Klein perform unprepared?

Based on the characteristics of a descent or the possession of the doll,

he had already placed the paper figurine, which had mutated because of

the corruption of Artificial Death's aura, in the iron cigar case. He

had also maintained the level of his marionette at the level of an

ordinary person in order to lure the target into possessing him!

At this point, the possession target of the "god" that the cultists

worshiped had gone from Klein to the Death Paper Figurine! As the

scarlet flames swept about, the pitch-black paper figurine ignited as a

pale-white color spread abruptly, tinged with a slightly dark green

color.

A rather painful grunt sounded as a transparent afterimage flashed

across a window tinted with the crimson moonlight.

Almost at the same instant, the items that came "alive" inside the room

fell to the ground, returning to their lifeless state. As for Enzo,

flames were swirling around him.

At this moment, in the port city north of the Southern Continent, the

residents were enjoying the comfort and warmth of their home and family

at night. They didn't notice that their glass windows and the surfaces

of the wall lamps would dim before quickly returning to normal.

Alongside this dimming environment, the flames in the fireplace either

intensified or dwindled. The remnants in the kitchen were ignited and

snuffed out.

During this process, the glass windows in that room dimmed the most, and

the fluctuations in the flames kept happening. However, the believers in

the room were praying to the Primordial Moon, paying no notice to what

was happening.

After an unknown period of time, the crimson moonlight brightened a

little, as though covering the entire city in a light veil.

Such brightness quickly returned to normal as a scarlet red flame flared

up on a silver candle on a dining table.

Enzo walked out of it as his body and face rapidly changed into Gehrman

Sparrow.

Just moments ago, at the instant when the crimson moon brightened, he

had lost his target.

Not only possessing the Beyonder powers of a High-Sequence Beyonder of

the Wraith pathway, but they can also borrow the power of the crimson

moon... Regarding these two aspects, one of them is only possible with a

Sealed Artifact or mystical item... Klein muttered silently and came to

a preliminary judgment.

After the demigod who possessed the doll had been corrupted by the Death

Paper Figurine, he had believed that he had the chance to take his

opponent down. To his surprise, the enemy's strength and means available

to them were more varied and potent than he imagined.

The only thing he could confirm was that it wasn't an angel, as the

strength and level were far inferior to one.

Just as this thought flashed through his mind, Klein left the dining

room and entered the activity room. There were a few believers praying

to the Primordial Moon.

Unlike the cultists on the steam locomotive, they knew who they were

praying to, as though they were more formal members of the parish.

One step. Two steps. Three steps. Klein entered the room in an unhurried

pace before they turned their heads when they noticed him.

With the powerful illusion power of a Bizarro Sorcerer, they treated

Gehrman Sparrow as an oracle that had descended upon them. They saw a

bright moon halo at his head.

The believers plopped to their knees in devout prostration.

Klein didn't beat about the bush as he asked in a deep voice, "Who was

the saint you met previously?"

Although one of the believers was puzzled, he still respectfully

answered, "Oracle, it was Shaman King Klarman."

Shaman King Klarman... That's a familiar name... Ah right, the author of

that Book of Secrets... Isn't he long dead? He was alive in a time over

a millennium ago. Saints of non-special pathways have no way of living

that long... He joined the Rose School of Thought but still believes in

the Primordial Moon. Through some means, he has extended his life? Or

could it be that his Sequence alone affords him a long life? Klein's

mind whirred and recalled the origins of the name "Klarman."

A sailboat was docked by the pier as the faint moonlight illuminated the

cabin's interior.

A figure with frizzled black hair with white streaks in them walked out

of a mirror. He wore a back robe with crimson patterns. He had wrinkles

that were neither too deep or shallow on his face. His eyes were

bloodshot.

At this moment, on the skin he exposed, such as the back of his hand,

his pores had expanded, producing white feathers that were stained with

pale yellow oil.

This elder's expression was somewhat warped as if he was enduring pain.

He quickly sat on the bedside, bowed his head, clasped his hands, and

silently chanted.

In his jarring voice, his forehead slowly cracked apart, revealing a red

full moon that seemed to be embedded in it!

The moonlight dispersed and cloaked the elder, causing the white

feathers on him to contract and recede into nothingness.

But at this moment, his abdomen bloated up as though it was filled with

liquid.

Finally, his clothes, together with his skin, tore apart as a blob of

flesh and blood covered in white feathers flew out onto the deck. After

squirming for quite a while, it rotted and died.

Phew... The elder looked up and slowly exhaled. His bloodshot eyes were

filled with puzzlement.

He muttered softly, "Death's Blessed?

"But Death is no more..."

Early in the morning, the Church of Storms's Mandated Punishers, who had

taken over the case of the mysterious deaths of the steam locomotive's

staff, had received new intelligence.

The missing conductor and driver, as well as a few suspicious

passengers, had been found!

Before long, this Mandated Punisher team followed the clues and found

their targets.

They were silently hung outside a building in a row.

"This is a provocation!" The Mandated Punisher's captain growled through

clenched teeth.

But after they lowered the corpses and carried out their investigations

inside the room, they saw that these people had been piously praying to

the Primordial Moon in the activity room, holding a rather diabolical

ritual.

"...Apprehend all of them!" The Mandated Punisher captain issued a

command after a second of surprise.

The believers of the Primordial Moon seemed to regain their reason as

they tried to resist. However, they were quickly suppressed, either

dying or being injured in the process.

The Mandated Punisher captain surveyed the area and inexplicably said to

his peers, "They didn't notice the row of corpses hanging at their

doorstep?"

A member of the Reader pathway thought and said, "Those corpses might've

been left there to guide us to investigate the area."

The Mandated Punisher captain calmed himself down and nodded in thought,

"Which Church's demigod passed by?"