Chapter 3: The Church and the Ceremony

Page (1/3)

The night was deep and unfathomable within District Two.

Ye Mi moved with graceful strength through the ruined streets, her body as light and sure as if she were walking on level ground.

The air was saturated with the scent of decay. In the distance, the spire of a Gothic cathedral was perfectly enveloped by the full moon, like an exquisite ornament bestowed upon the moon itself—appearing both sacred and strange, as if a rebellious saint had adorned it.

Once, this place had been the most renowned Saint Cathedral among the three great churches of Prism City. Now, it had become a lair for monsters.

In a world where civilians lived with high technology but low living standards, survival was itself a challenge, and the various faiths held by the churches became all the more significant, offering humanity at least a glimmer of hope.

Similarly, at the easternmost edge of Prism City, there stood a temple built by investments from the Eastern nations, the homeland of Ye Mi's grandfather. Based on her initial estimate, it lay somewhere within the fourth or even the fifth district, though its current state was unknown.

A few years ago, there had been no forest near the Saint Cathedral; Ye Mi remembered only an open-air botanical garden crafted for the sake of natural beauty. But within the Light Ruins, where humans had ceased to destroy the environment, a forest had sprung up in just a few years.

Of course, the energy of the Light Ruins played its part.

As she drew nearer to the grand structure, Ye Mi slowed her pace, moving silently.

On the square before the cathedral, dark red vines grew thickly in the cracks of shattered marble, writhing faintly as if alive, illuminated clearly by the moonlight cast before Ye Mi's eyes.

She noticed dozens of small monsters gathered at the entrance to the square—crows with human hands, bone dogs half the height of a person. They patrolled in orderly fashion, as if guarding something.

"...Interesting."

Ye Mi's electronic eye flickered, as if she were squinting.

These low-level monsters would typically tear each other apart, yet now they cooperated with strict discipline.

Using the concealment abilities of her Divine Mask, Ye Mi slipped unnoticed past the patrolling monsters and approached the Saint Cathedral.

The great doors of the cathedral were already battered beyond repair. Dim candlelight leaked from the gaps, moonlight behind her, and the sacred glow ahead, casting completely contrasting colors upon her metallic body.

She slipped through the cracks like a fish, greeted by an overwhelming stench of rot.

The cathedral's interior was vast, as large as a sports arena. Independently powered electronic candle sconces lit up one by one along the walls, extending forward until they halted at the grand altar where ceremonies were once held.

Page (2/3)

Even in defeat, the cathedral’s former splendor was evident.

Yet Ye Mi immediately saw a horrifying sight.

Nearly fifty corpses hung upside-down beneath the soaring dome above the altar, swaying gently like dried meat. Some had become mere skeletons, others still clung to decaying flesh, with black-red fluids dripping steadily to form small pools of blood below.

Ye Mi's mechanical eye automatically adjusted its focus, even allowing her to see the relatively fresh corpses—adventurers, still clad in their gear, badges pinned to their chests. Clearly, they were members of the team mentioned by the two drinkers.

All the bodies shared a common feature—various tissues were missing, bearing gnaw marks.

In other words, all those killed by these monsters had been gathered here, offered for consumption.

The monsters were not killing indiscriminately, but carrying out some primitive sacrificial ritual; the patrolling small monsters acted as hunting hounds searching for prey.

Such behavior could not arise from the monsters themselves.

There was a boss-level creature directing them.

Aside from the antlered butcher, Ye Mi could not imagine any other monster capable of such acts. The drinkers claimed it had once been human—could it have been a member of the church?

At that moment, the cathedral was devoid of monsters. Ye Mi easily leapt atop a stone pillar and climbed to the dome, her metal fingers gripping the ornate stone carvings, silently lurking in the shadows.

The dome rose nine meters above the floor, offering a perfect vantage point over the entire altar area.

Time passed, minute by minute. Moonlight filtered through fragments of stained glass, casting mottled patterns on the floor.

Ye Mi, like a bat hanging upside-down, waited quietly in a secluded corner.

After a long while, a distant crack of breaking branches suddenly sounded. Ye Mi instantly tensed, her electronic eye fixed firmly on the entrance.

A figure over two meters tall slowly entered from outside.

It wore a tattered black clerical robe, its face hidden beneath a decayed deer skull gleaming with unnatural light. In one hand it carried a great blade stained with dark blood, in the other, three freshly killed human bodies strung together, blood dripping from their arms in a trail of dark red.

Behind the antlered butcher, a horde of monsters surged in, licking at the bloodstains.

Page (3/3)

They crawled forward, uttering low moans of submission.

The antlered butcher advanced, hanging the bodies upside-down upon the altar. At last, Ye Mi understood how the grisly spectacle above the altar had come to be.

"Uuuu—"

It let out a long howl, and all the monsters, as if hearing a trumpet call to charge, immediately rushed toward the hanging corpses, gnawing madly. Some reveled in the decayed flesh, but most devoured the fresh meat and blood.

The sounds of flesh being torn echoed through the cavernous church, chilling to the bone. The monsters feasted in frenzy, while the antlered butcher stood aside, as though supervising the banquet.

It was as if... it were feeding livestock it had raised.

Though terrifying, these monsters surprisingly did not consume much. Their feeding seemed less about sustenance and more like a strange ritual. After a brief meal, they gradually ceased their actions and slowly dispersed.

Not until the last monster left did the antlered butcher walk out alone, heading toward the forest.

Ye Mi, seeing this, dropped silently from the beam like a shadow, keeping a safe distance as she followed.

The forest, once a botanical garden, was even denser than Ye Mi had imagined, filled with twisted trunks and countless vines. Moonlight struggled to squeeze through the gaps in these ominous plants.

Ye Mi had long stopped relying on moonlight for visibility, activating the night vision mode in her artificial eye early on.

The antlered butcher moved slowly, pausing occasionally to use the tip of its blade to clear branches from its path.

Its actions resembled those of a human.

As it passed through a clearing, Ye Mi struck.

A poisoned spear shot from the shadows, aimed at the antlered butcher’s back. Yet just as the tip was about to hit, it suddenly twisted aside, the blade expertly deflecting the attack.