Romil's expression was extrely bizarre, seemingly in pain, yet carrying a silent climax. The convulsions within his body beca more exaggerated until, with a spluttering sound, he exploded into a ss of mangled flesh. Amidst the scattered flesh, countless tiny translucent insects burst forth, drilling into anyone they t.
However, the natives remained oblivious, continuing their revelry, as the innurable insects sward in the air, rapidly entering the bodies of the natives. Like an infection, each began to burn their internal Spiritual Ability, dancing with increasing frenzy before their bodies burst open like crimson fireworks, releasing another swarm of translucent insects amidst the flying flesh, ceaselessly converging power towards Cantona in the sky.
As the ritual center, Cantona had a comprehensive view of everything on the island. Predictions were pointless; he realized this Death sacrifice might lead to slaughter, but he was powerless to prevent it. The ssage had been sent out, yet there was no response from the Nether God's Court. Running was impossible; provoking both Death and the Nether God was unimaginable, akin to preferring a rope to hang himself.
The only choice was to continue, grit his teeth, complete the mission, and further conceal himself.
With each native erupting, the amalgamated forces surged like a blood-red wave, entering not pure Wish Power, but a blend of soul power. Suddenly, above Cantona's head, a blood-black vortex appeared, as if a giant abyssal mouth, with power spiraling upward via his Divine Relic, pouring into the black vortex.
Cantona felt a horrifying sense of becoming prey, yet he dared not inspect, dared not probe, his heart swelling with a fierce longing. He knew that just one look would instantly shatter him, so he endured the impulse, focusing on the island's tragic circumstances.
The black vortex in the sky pulsed as if alive, each throb causing the island to tremble, consuming the wish power mixed with flesh.
Death, the cruel ancient god from the Old Era... has truly awakened. Why are the laws of the Sixth Epoch ineffective? Is this a collapse?
Suddenly, a buzzing shot through his mind, like countless needles stabbing relentlessly, his ears ringing madly, blood seeping from his ears and eyes.
Cantona felt his soul being forcibly severed!
As a conduit, while power transmitted through his body into the vortex, it also carried away his strength. As the crimson fireworks multiplied, the speed at which his strength was being taken accelerated uncontrollably. Furthermore, his body could no longer move.
Cantona suppressed the fear and anger suffocating his heart. Damn this Old God had no integrity, so indiscriminate in even involving priests.
Facing life and death, Cantona understood if he couldn't dodge, he would undoubtedly beco fodder. He exerted all his might to control his Netherworld Blade, yet the obedient blade that had saved him countless tis now remained motionless, utterly unresponsive. As a bridge conveying Wish Power, the blade was already suppressed by the deity's force. No, the blade clearly inclined to listen to the opponent.
All Spiritual Ability skills and magic were re show in the face of absolute power. Cantona knew he was no different from the natives, all lambs to the slaughter. Ridiculously, he had previously held onto slim hopes.
In re seconds, Spiritual Ability was desiccated by the blood-red vortex, and next drained was his soul, much like enduring a powerful soul-searching spell, agonizingly shredded. In an instant, Cantona's body cracked, his soul as if strands of silk being extracted.
Suddenly, Cantona's head drooped, pupils losing brightness, his body seemingly evaporated in an instant, soul gone, slowing the sacrificial matrix. Yet the ritual persisted, worms sward over the island, with most natives already split, now dyed crimson. Countless translucent worms populated the island, so natives finally waking from terror, yet facing swarming worms onslaught. Perhaps tainted by solid blood and flesh, they could no longer drill smoothly into natives, needing instead to gnaw their way inside, mingling screams with rustling.
Fear was the preferred dining atmosphere for Old Gods.
On the Twelve Zodiac Star Disc, Cantona appeared on the Taurus high-backed chair, gasping like he had just been rescued from deep drowning.
He knew his ti was short, the soul temporarily escaped into the Star Disc, but his body might collapse. He was rely a Three Lives, lacking the ability to preserve his soul, which upon leaving the body, would scatter when returning to the Real World instantaneously. For a mont, Cantona was stunned for a few seconds, abruptly relaxing after extre tension.
He sighed softly, knowing this would happen; back then he should not have played hero. Had he pleaded with his teacher, perhaps they'd look down on him, but he might've been able to save his life. Even if working in the Nether God's Court like a beast to slowly atone was more dignified than being fodder.
The Death Church didn't regard others as humans, nor their own as humans.
Cantona raised his head towards the do, unexpectedly feeling so reluctance. His life had been a treacherous path, treading carefully; life or death was not that concerning, yet within this Star Disc he experienced a rare serenity, rendering him sowhat unwilling.
Cantona suddenly grimaced, perhaps there's still ti for farewells.
Cantona touched the Gemini star... no response...
Cancer... no response either...
Aries... Leo... Libra...
?
Even Cantona's last thin thread of hope evaporated, the Star Disc lost its function at this crucial mont, why, could the Star Disc also evade Old Gods?
Forrly a scribe, Cantona knew all Divine Relics and Artifacts were essentially connected with deities and laws, deriving their power from deities, naturally his Netherworld Blade was unresponsive.
Higher-tier Artifacts possessed intelligence; sensing danger and reverence was instinctive behavior, especially for superior Artifacts. Likely the Twelve Zodiac Star Disc sensed Death's presence.
This ti, it truly was his end, not even a final word was possible.
After scanning through all the stars in the disc, Cantona leaned against the chair back, longing for a cigarette. With him no longer driving it, the ritual slowed, although it didn't matter anymore; it was already ford. Slightly slower only delayed ti; his own body like a puppet, torn by two forces, pulling in countless blood, life, and primary power towards the black hole in the sky.
Just as Cantona decided to return and struggle before his body completely shattered, a dim star flickered. Sensing the light, Cantona imdiately raised his head.
?
Virgo's star shone.
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