Chapter 432: Chapter 361: Houttuynia Cordata Farm
Harvey ignored the sly complaints of his companions and spoke seriously, “There’s no doubt that this is the work of a Necromancer, at least of the Holy Sanctuary… no, perhaps even of the Legendary Realm! The way he set up this rmaid scent grass farm is indeed unconventional, but it’s done with evil intent and brutal thods, completely betraying the Necromancy doctrines of Hagen Dazs… I despise him.”
Sure enough, only a peer could harbor such naked hatred, the Two-winged Necromancer spoke with full disdain.
“Although Necromancers use corpses and souls as casting materials, the corpses are generally taken from the already deceased, and the souls captured are those struggling out of Hell. Necromancers like those from the Blood Saint Clan are basically armchair experts, having bodies delivered to them from hospitals.”
“Even if there are brutes who like fresh, hot materials, they are simply the type that kills a person and then uses what’s available on the spot, creating corpses themselves.”
Ash and the others imdiately breathed a sigh of relief—the expressions “even if,” “simply,” and “that’s all,” these light explanations were enough to prove that Harvey still had that deranged Necromancer in him.
“But it’s different here.”
Harvey said, “If we Necromancers are cooks, dealing with cooked food, then this place is a heretical restaurant producing raw sashimi. Inside these rmaid scent grasses, there’s the raw sll of living humans.”
The crowd was stunned, and turned to look at Hanna.
Hanna touched her earring and said noncommittally, “Let’s discuss this as we walk.”
The Funeral Ceremony procession walked across the spacious square, wary of the various states of the rmaid scent grass. If before their caution was due to fear, now their movents also carried an air of protectiveness, as if afraid to shatter these fragile objects.
“You rember the family’s Rebirth Dreams, ant to suppress the threshold increase caused by the daily ingestion of Beauty Mist, don’t you?” Hanna said, “You’ve also experienced the dreams. Do you think the threshold has been suppressed?”
“Yes,” Igula affird. “I’ve monitored the hormonal changes in my body with the Gospel Book, and every ti I leave the dream, hormone secretions return to normal.”
“Then, suppose it suppresses for a day, a week, a month, a year,” Hanna continued. “Do you think the dream can suppress for a hundred years?”
The foreigners blinked, understanding Hanna’s implications.
“Even if the family’s Rebirth Dreams are effective, the threshold will still rise bit by bit, and organ physiological changes will accumulate day by day, irreversible. The progress bar will eventually fill,” Hanna explained. “Because of different body conditions, the progress bar for each race fills at different rates, like for humans it’s usually full by age sixty-five.”
Ash swallowed hard. “Once the progress bar is full… what happens?”
“They no longer need to work but co here to spend the rest of their lives… They retire forever.”
“So, the retirent years for your Vatican Mura people seem pretty decent,” Igula mocked. “After all, you have no late years.”
Hanna calmly responded, “You’ve seen earlier the Vatican Mura people ‘breaking down’ as the concentration of the white mist decreases. When their threshold progress bar is full, their physical condition is equivalent to ‘all parts shattered,’ even if the white mist is condensed into liquid and injected into their veins, it cannot ‘fix’ them.”
“Beauty Mist is not a Miracle; the pleasure it brings cos with a price. Organizationally, the pleasure brought by Beauty Mist reduces human ambition, thus reducing the rate at which Mages mature. After all, Mages are almost always the greediest creatures. Who would strive to practice and study without yearning?”
“In the whole Gospel, Vatican Mura has the lowest percentage of Mages, with Holy Sanctuary Mages amounting to only a re three, including Qinna, far less than half of Azura’s.”
“For the individual, Beauty Mist destroys most of their initiative; most people are willing to be pawns for the Clan Leader, living in reality like cattle and in dreams like infants.”
“After indulging in pleasure for most of their lives, they end up like parts running on overload every day. Their bodies can’t carry the burden and break down prematurely.”
“At first, when these clan mbers broke down, they just broke down – we buried them as fertilizer. But then a genius Necromancer, I don’t know if he thought it was too wasteful to bury them like that or if he truly cared about these broken clan mbers, he eventually figured out a way to let the people of Vatican Mura ‘retire with dignity’ through a Miracle.”
“The white mist emitted from the rmaid scent isn’t satisfying your threshold anymore? Then let’s just turn you directly into rmaid scent, no middleman making a profit.”
“Too old to work? Then simply don’t work, let yourself be permanently imrsed in your own dreams, and any excess elation will dissipate as mist.”
“Retire forever, happy forever, detached from reality forever.”
Ash murmured, “Sounds pretty good actually…”
Liss gave Ash a pat on the back of his head.
“Of course, it’s good, after all, it’s a ‘Miracle,'” Hanna emphasized, her tone indistinguishable between sarcasm and emotion. “The Gospel Book can accurately predict which people are about to max out their progress bars. On the last day, the old and frail clan mbers will co to the farm on their own, prompted by the Gospel Book. As their progress bars fill up and their bodies completely break down, the Emblem will trigger the Miracle Track within the farm, turning them into rmaid scent.”
“By the way, the appearance of their rmaid scent form is not related to their original body, but rather represents the form they most desire to beco. Hence, most here are young and beautiful males and females.”
Ash looked around: “That’s not right; there’s an overwhelming number of beauties here. If the ratio of n to won was about even…”
“It’s very normal to desire to beco the opposite sex,” Igula said. “Gender reassignnt surgery has always been popular in the Blood Moon.”
Ash looked at Igula in shock: “Igula, how do you know about this? Could it be that you used to be a genuinely pure iwa?”
Igula glanced at him: “Many people change their gender but not their mindsets. ‘Correcting self-gender perception’ is quite a popular service in the psychological counseling industry. Are you interested, Ash? I can give you a 20% discount.”
“I’m interested, I’ve never recognized that I am a handso, kind, warm, humorous, sunny, and incredibly invincible handso guy. Please correct that for .”
“Ash, stop talking; that annoying little girl behind you is about to puke.”
“So can we get out of here quickly?”
At that mont, Harvey felt like a cockroach that had fallen into a perfu bottle, extrely uncomfortable: “Alice told he feels terrible.”
“We’re close now.”
Hanna led them into a passage on the outskirts of the square. Unlike the plaza, this passageway showed no signs of artificial repair, resembling a natural cave.
As they stepped in, both Liss and Ash shuddered. After a mont, Ash couldn’t help but say, “What is this place? I feel so itchy all over.”
Hanna looked at Ash in surprise: “You’re proficient in the Ti Faction?”
Igula’s gaze flickered, and he imdiately summoned the Gospel Book to check the ti, his pupils contracting sharply.
They saw the second hand of the Gospel Book’s clock spinning rapidly. What Igula felt as one second passed was actually thirty seconds on the Gospel Book!
“I forgot to tell you, the rmaid scent farm is built inside the Abyss, and this is a passageway between the Abysses, where ti and space are compressed,” Hanna explained. “Once we pass through this corridor, we’ll leave Vatican Mura and arrive at another city’s Abyss.”
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