Only God
Chapter 384 - 340 Heretical Cult

Chapter 384: Chapter 340 Heretical Cult

"The Golden Heart, once it began to ache, would often hurt throughout the entire night, relenting only with the arrival of daybreak."

Anos had already prepared herself for a sleepless night, but Mira’s appearance changed everything.

Her Ancient Language, though incapable of healing the illness that had plagued her for many years, effectively alleviated her pain.

Reclining on a goose feather pillow, the Princess reminisced about the girl’s visage.

"Truly a... bizarre person," Anos murmured softly to herself.

A girl who claimed to have descended from the heavens on a hang glider, a girl in possession of three Ancient Words, ’bizarre’ was the only word Anos could find to describe her.

Anos caressed her chest, and for a moment, many thoughts of Mira rose and fell in her mind; finally, she sighed deeply.

"Could she be someone sent by God?"

The Princess shook her head and chuckled to herself.

Such a thought was nothing short of a fanciful tale.

For three thousand years, this land had seen neither Prophet nor Angel; the Day of Rebirth was like a gossamer myth, residing within all manner of Scriptures.

Even if Mira declared herself sent by God, Anos would not believe.

Firstly, she held no faith in the God that the masses spoke of; secondly, she didn’t think a little girl would serve as a Messenger of God. "Perhaps, Mira had a remarkable encounter as a child... or perhaps, like herself, she had a childhood that was far from pleasant."

Such were Anos’s musings; she pressed her chest to feel the calmness of the Golden Heart and exhaled a sigh of relief.

The Princess, from a young age, was a child with a frail heart.

Those knowledgeable in herbalism, Priests and Nuns alike, had once declared she wouldn’t live past ten.

But relying on this Golden Heart, she had finally made it to this day.

Yet, everything had its price.

And the weight of the cost was often unbearable.

It was her own mother who had given her life for this Golden Heart.

And as the Golden Heart slowly consumed her flesh, her emotions also became thinner with each passing day.

Before long, when Anos’s last bit of heart was devoured, she would lose all emotion, walking through the world like a thinking puppet.

It was a cruel but foreseeable future.

.........

The Red Olive Poetry Society soon faced the day to fulfill their commissioned task; the departure set just before the midday prayer, Anos and Mira arrived at Stephanie’s doorstep, to find the members of the society had already gathered.

Of course, the more people there were for this commission, the better; according to the information from the Olive Guild, the tomb’s passage could only admit two people walking side by side, so the Red Olive Poetry Society decided to select six amongst themselves to go; four to accompany the Priest summoned by the Guild into the tomb, and two to stand by outside the tomb.

The meticulous Anos quickly finalized the selection for the expedition; naturally, she and Mira were chosen, along with Elena, who was adept at support, the heathen Colin, the poetic Karen, and the common-born Mona, all listed surprisingly among the small team, each undertaking different responsibilities.

Before long, the members of the society were unceasingly riding carriages into the distance towards the tomb described by the Olive Guild, crossing sites filled with wooden scaffolding, where the society encountered a representative from the Guild as well as the Priest they had invited.

The manager appeared rotund with a sweaty forehead glistening from the sun’s blaze.

"This is Priest Prey from the Sirius Parish," said the manager, introducing him to the members of the society.

The Priest beside him looked solemn, greeting the poets with a simple nod; he seemed quite aloof.

"Manager, please update us on the current situation," Anos said directly.

The Princess’s attire today was similar to that of the day Mira had met her: the same practical riding clothes with a Secret Silver Chain Armor underneath, paired with a pair of white silk gloves, and a Longsword hung at her waist.

Seeing the Princess, the manager did not dare be negligent, pointing continuously towards the tomb, he explained the situation in full detail.

The account was no different from what the Red Olive Poetry Society had previously heard: the tomb was haunted, the workers were too scared to work, but after the supposed exorcism revealed no ghosts, there was a need for someone to go in and investigate.

The director led everyone to the front of the tomb,

Through the deep and mysterious entrance, they could see pitch blackness inside, the outlines of objects so blurred as to be indistinguishable.

Anos and the others lit their torches.

"Is the priest who has come to exorcise the spirits, Father Prey?"

Anos asked.

"It is I."

Father Prey replied, clutching a book of Scriptures.

Anos nodded and, holding a torch, led the way to the gaping entrance of the tomb.

Above the tomb door were carved a variety of patterns, and Mira looked curiously at them. These paintings were smeared with clouds, angels, and a night sky dense with stars – clearly religious art, but with an indescribable oddity.

Anos caressed the patterns on the tomb door,

"... In such a remote suburb, to think there would be a finely carved stone tomb door."

She then turned her head and ordered Elena and Colin to follow, leaving the remaining two outside.

Once everyone was ready, Father Prey led the way into the tomb, and a heavy, musty smell hit their noses.

A cold and gloomy air twisted around them, causing the flames to flicker unsteadily, as sparks fell in all directions.

The air was filled with a faint scent of ash.

Along the sides of the tomb’s corridor were neatly arranged ceramic jars, resembling urns containing ashes; it appeared to be a large tomb complex.

The further they walked, the more they felt the wet and slippery ground beneath their feet. Mysterious and sticky moss grew everywhere, evidence of the tomb’s moist air.

Whoosh!

A cold wind howled from deep within the tomb.

Anos drew her longsword, watching the path ahead intently.

Father Prey also frowned and scrutinized the situation ahead with his eyes.

Members of the Poetry Society held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

Mira, on the other hand, stared curiously into the depths.

After a long while, when nothing had happened and it seemed that it was just a gust of wind,

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

After passing a few bends, the vague sound of running water reached their ears through the tomb.

The walls were slippery with wet moss, spreading a bone-piercing cold.

As they finally crossed the narrow passageway and advanced with their torches into the profound darkness ahead, they suddenly came upon a vast space, appearing to be a natural cavern. Through the light of the torches, they could see a spring incessantly flowing from underground.

"I didn’t expect there to be such a vast space here."

Anos murmured softly.

"Look, what is that?"

Elena suddenly pointed and said.

Everyone turned their heads.

And then almost simultaneously shuddered,

Even Mira’s eyes flashed with panic.

A series of corpses with drooping heads and hands brought together in prayer knelt at the back of the cavern, and in front of them stood an unyieldly stone altar.

The altar was covered in dried, darkened blood that outlined the shape of eyes. The corpses knelt, one by one... Elena counted a total of thirty-three, and in front of the altar stood three traditional steles of the True Religion, behind which were grayscale, twisted religious paintings.

These corpses had knelt alive until they knelt to death, maintaining a posture of prayer before dying.

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