coobybook Chapter 263 The Mystery of the Sage
Chapter 263 The Mystery of the Sage
Despite their careful search, they found no useful information.
Astram saw a huge portrait of a saint on the wall.
Suddenly, as if he had just thought of something, he hurriedly went to look for books about this saint, and sure enough, he found them.
…………
Astram pressed his fingers heavily on the yellowed pages, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. The kerosene lamp in the basement cast distorted shadows on the stone walls, casting flickering light on the golden laurel wreath on the saint's portrait. Russell's voice still echoed in his ears, like a sharp knife piercing through the chaotic fog.
"The mass auditory hallucinations that occurred in the Pluma Sector three hundred years ago." Russell suddenly grabbed a scroll and pointed to a passage, the joints of his armor clattering against the oak table. "The record says that a saint appeared and stopped the chaos from engulfing the world, but that year was also the year the Iron Warriors Bloodband massacred the Forged World of Gryphon—"
The Grey Knight company commander looked up abruptly, and the compassionate, downcast face in the icon suddenly overlapped with his memory. Three weeks ago, when they were clearing out the cultist's lair, they had found the same face at the bottom of the altar, except that the statue had a third, bleeding eye between its brows.
"Contact the Inquisition Archives immediately." Astram's armor servo beeped sharply as he tore off his cloak to wrap the parchment book. "Retrieve all intelligence on San Sebastian Mor, including the top-secret..."
Before the words were even finished, the ground suddenly trembled violently. Debris rained down from the dome, and a howl mixed with the stench of demons pierced through ten meters of rock. Russell had already smashed open the hidden door to the cellar, and the golden force field of the Blood Drinker's entrenching tool carved lightning-like cracks in the darkness—twelve corpses bearing the insignia of the state church were crawling out from under the church pews, maggots cascading from their empty eye sockets.
“It seems someone doesn’t want us to investigate further.” Astram’s psionic longsword erupted with blinding silver flames, illuminating the melting gilded chalice on the pulpit. Crimson liquid gushed from the chalice’s rim, gathering on the ground to form an eight-pointed star pattern.
"Prepare for battle!" Astram roared.
The Grey Knights unleashed a furious barrage of fire from their holy bomb guns.
However, these mummies were extremely resilient; even with their heads smashed, they could still move freely and launch swift attacks against them.
Russell immediately activated the psionic power within his body. Golden lightning flowed around his body, and a golden shield phantom appeared and disappeared as it roared and charged toward the dried corpse.
The battle is about to break out.
Inside the underground chapel, the aftershocks of the battle still echoed. Russell leaned against the shattered pulpit; the golden force field of the Bloodthirsty entrenching tool had extinguished, but the tool still gleamed coldly. His breastplate was dented, and blood seeped from the gaps, tracing winding lines on the armor. Each breath brought excruciating pain, yet he remained fixed on the mangled corpses on the ground.
Astram's condition wasn't much better. His silver-flame greatsword was stuck in the ground, its runes dull and lifeless. The Grey Knight company commander's shoulder armor had been ripped open, revealing a bloody, mangled wound beneath. He knelt on one knee, the visor of his helmet shattered, revealing a pale face covered in sweat.
“These aren’t ordinary zombies,” Russell said with difficulty, his voice hoarse. “Their movements… are too coordinated, like…”
“It’s like someone is manipulating puppets,” Astram continued, his gaze falling on the state emblems on the chests of the corpses. The gilding on the emblems was peeling away, revealing dark red, chaotic markings underneath.
The Grey Knight reinforcements were surveying the battlefield, their footsteps echoing through the empty church. Suddenly, a warrior discovered a hidden door behind the altar. The lock on the door was rusted, but the emblem of the state church was still faintly discernible.
"Sir, we've found something here!"
Astland struggled to his feet, his armor's servos whirring under the strain. Russell tried to follow, but stumbled and fell to his knees after taking only one step. The Grey Knight captain glanced back at him, took a syringe from his flask, and tossed it to him.
“The Holy Blood Potion can temporarily suppress your injuries.” His voice remained cold, but a complex emotion flickered in his eyes. “You’d better come with me, Kashejin. This conspiracy is deeper than we imagined.”
Behind the hidden door was a spiral staircase leading downwards, its damp stone walls covered in glowing moss. As they went deeper, a cloying, putrid stench began to fill the air. At the top of the staircase was a circular chamber, its walls inlaid with hundreds of glass jars, each containing the corpse of an infant.
In the center of the chamber stood an altar, upon which rested a heavy tome. As Astram's fingers touched the pages, a powerful psychic shockwave knocked him to the ground. Russell, barely managing to steady himself against the wall, watched as the infants in the glass jars suddenly opened their eyes, hundreds of blood-red pupils gleaming in the darkness.
“This isn’t the end.” Astran struggled to his feet, blood seeping from his nostrils. “This is just the beginning…”
The air in the sealed chamber seemed to freeze. The infant corpses in the hundreds of glass jars, under the influence of psionic energy, transformed into black smoke, which, as if drawn by an invisible vortex, coalesced into a gigantic shadow above the altar. The shadow gradually solidified, revealing a terrifying demon nearly twenty meters tall. Its body flowed like lava, its surface covered with distorted faces, each emitting a different scream and wail.
"I am the servant of the Thousand-Faced Demon Lord! How dare you, you audacious mortals, disturb my slumber!" The demon's voice boomed like thunder, sending dust flying from the walls of the secret chamber. Its eyes, like two blood moons, looked down upon the ants on the ground.
Astram struggled to his feet, the silver-flame greatsword rekindling its light in his hand. His armor was tattered, blood seeping from multiple wounds, yet he still stood tall. "For the Emperor!" he roared, charging first towards the demon.
The Grey Knights followed closely behind, their psionic weapons slicing brilliant streaks of light in the darkness. However, the demon merely swung his arm, and a powerful psionic shockwave sent them sprawling to the ground. Astram's greatsword barely managed to block the attack, but his armor servos emitted a piercing alarm, clearly reaching their limit.
Russell struggled to join the fight, but the demon's gaze was already locked on him. An invisible force lifted him up, suspending him in mid-air. A greedy glint flashed in the demon's eyes: "Interesting... You possess the power of an ancient saint. This power should not belong to mortals."
A sharp pain shot through every nerve ending of Russell's body, as if countless sharp blades were churning within him. His golden psionic energy began to leak out under the demon's oppression, forming a faint halo. The demon opened its blood-red maw, preparing to devour this power.
Just then, Astram suddenly sprang into action. He abandoned his defenses, channeling all his psionic energy into his greatsword, causing the silver flames to surge instantly. He charged towards the demon like a meteor, his greatsword aimed straight for the demon's heart.
"For the Emperor! For humanity!" Astram's roar echoed in the secret chamber.
Caught off guard by the sudden attack, the demon was pierced by the greatsword. Silver flames spread within its body, burning its surface features to ashes one by one. The demon let out a deafening roar, and a psychic shockwave sent Astram flying, crashing heavily against the wall.
Russell felt the binding force suddenly weaken. He seized the opportunity and concentrated all his will on the Bloodthirsty entrenching tool. Golden psionic energy erupted like a volcanic eruption, and the entrenching tool's force field reactivated, emitting a piercing hum.
"For the dead brothers!" Russell roared, hurling his entrenching tool at the demon.
Golden light pierced the demon's body like a sharp arrow. The demon let out a final wail, its massive form collapsing into countless black ashes. One by one, the glass jars in the sealed chamber shattered, and the infant's corpse turned to dust.
As the last vestiges of darkness faded, Russell collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred, and he heard Astran's faint voice calling, "Russell... hang in there..."
In his last moments before losing consciousness, Russell seemed to see the face of that saint. That compassionate face seemed to bear a strange smile.