Super Righteous Player
Chapter 785 - 325 The God Who is Unaffected by Corruption_1

Chapter 785: Chapter 325 The God Who is Unaffected by Corruption_1

"We burn the bitter herb, calling upon the bitter blood."

"We burn the rose, calling upon the fragrant kiss..."

In the rhythmic chanting of Husky, playing "Annan Winter," the Winter’s Hands burned different incense in sequence on the heptagram of the ritual.

As they burned them, the aromas mingled, forming a rich and complex fragrance.

The mind gradually relaxed, and a sense of ease calmed the trepidation within. Like soaking in a petal-strewn or spice-laden hot spring, the body entirely loosened, a strong sense of peace and drowsiness overwhelming the heart.

The oppressive feeling in his heart was quickly healed by the complex fragrance.

This was not a sensation exclusive to "Dmitry."

With his last bit of rationality, he looked up to see the Winter’s Hands, once standing like ice sculptures exuding chill, now swaying erratically. Their bodies totally relaxed, as did their vigilance.

Even the voice of "Annan Winter" in the middle grew softer and weaker.

After burning more than forty kinds of incense, the blue smoke in the room, heavy with fragrance, should have been enough to sting the eyes, but it felt "gentle" to him.

Yes, gentle.

If he were to make an analogy, it felt like an essential oil SPA...

The smoke in the entire room became so dense it formed a thick haze. Annan’s chanting echoing within it seemed to carry an ethereal reverberation, imbued with a sense of the divine.

Thus, the ritual neared its end.

A rose-colored flame spontaneously ignited in the middle brass brazier, and "Annan" added the final ingredient—the shedding of a snake.

"We burn the snake shedding, calling upon the skin of the immortal..."

When the flame, rising nearly half a meter, touched the snake shedding, it suddenly "collapsed." Like a flame-shaped ice cream melting abruptly, the rose-colored flame turned to a gel, breaking apart and falling back into the brazier.

At that moment, "Annan" lifted his head, winked at Dmitry, and handed over the silver Ceremonial Knife that he had lightly singed in the rose-colored flame.

...What’s this for?

A moment of hesitation crossed Thirteen Fragrance’s mind as he took the knife.

Are you asking me to cut my wrist?

But Husky couldn’t explain...

However, this didn’t cause him to stumble at this point.

—As Thirteen Fragrance received the Ceremonial Knife and remained motionless for three seconds, Dmitry’s body moved on its own accord.

Dmitry stepped forward, using the Ceremonial Knife to vertically slice the pads of his left thumb, index finger, and middle finger, letting the blood drip into the gel-like substance.

The blood, as gorgeous as a rose gel, gradually stained the substance. It turned into a dark red as if a dried bloodstain, while a strong, unheard fragrance burst forth.

Immediately, a Winter’s Hand approached, using the idol school’s Spell to heal Dmitry’s wounds and ushered him away from the ritual circle.

After everyone vacated the ritual circle, "Annan" began the final chant.

"Once again, we humbly call upon the Rotting Husband, we invoke the True God who rots without decay, the God Enveloped in Fragrances—"

As Husky’s chanting reached its climax.

The fragrant scent surging from the brazier became "visible to the naked eye."

The smoke from the burning incense turned into pure white mist. Like dry ice melting, it gave off an otherworldly aura and filled the entire room.

After the CG ended, the body belonging to "Dmitry" suddenly started to tremble.

An inexplicable surge of excitement and fear rose in his heart, and Thirteen Fragrance couldn’t help but clasp his chest with his hand.

In the next moment, like an illusion—or a ghost.

Apparently, there was nothing beside "Annan" in the previous instant.

But after the white smoke flowed past, a figure appeared behind "Annan."

It was a man who stood more than a head shorter than himself, but a head taller than Annan.

Clad in a pure white silk robe, his skin was fair and healthy, and his bare feet stood on the ground.

The upper half of his face was concealed by a silver mask, and on his head rested an ivory crown with five sharp points. On closer inspection, one could see that he had no hair. From behind the crown, two pieces of white gauze over a meter long fluttered without wind behind him, like ears, wings, or hair.

His entire being emitted a rich fragrance, pure as though it was reflecting the moonlight—even though they were indoors and it was daytime, it evoked such associations.

Even if it was for the first time.

Even if the players had not been able to see the Rot Fiend’s figure clearly in their recorded videos before...

But in just a moment of seeing him, Thirteen Fragrances immediately recognized his identity.

And "Annan," who seemed to be embraced by the arms of the Rot Fiend, was completely unaware of what was behind him.

—His perceptive abilities were already weakened to the limit by the fragrance.

His body slowly tilted backward, falling powerlessly into the Rot Fiend’s embrace.

...What’s wrong with Husky?

A trace of anxiety flashed through Thirteen Fragrances’ mind.

He couldn’t help but take a step forward.

But then he saw "Annan" lifting his head, the lively and cunning sparkle belonging to Husky had become hollow and dim. Like a puppet devoid of a spirit, the Rot Fiend gently supported his shoulders.

That posture reminded one of a marionette.

"I thought you would rush up and demand that I let him go..."

After making eye contact with Thirteen Fragrances, the Rot Fiend chuckled lightly and released the shoulders of Husky, who played "Annan."

It was only four or five seconds after Husky was free from the Rot Fiend’s body that his pupils slowly regained focus.

Thirteen Fragrances hurriedly caught him.

"What happened to me...?"

Husky’s voice was fragmented and hoarse.

Because Thirteen Fragrances was holding him, he could feel through his palms that "Annan’s" body was shaking violently, like a dog frightened by firecrackers.

This was likely the situation for mortals when touched directly by a True God who did not restrain their power, their bodies overwhelmed by intense fear.

It was like a small animal pinned under the paw of a tiger or lion—fear enough to drive one out of their senses, to the point of fainting on the spot.

Yet the Rot Fiend just smiled.

His lips still bore that mysterious smile.

Normally, a smile would make people feel at ease, feel close. But the smile on the Rot Fiend’s face was different.

It was a smile that reminded one of a bowed string or a loaded gun, as if one could easily take another’s life with the mere press of a button.

"Forgive the intrusion, Prince Dmitry, Prince Annan."

The Rot Fiend spoke in a delicate and gentle tone, emitting a slimy, effeminate voice: "May I inquire as to why you have summoned me here?"

His attitude was so polite that even to two genuine mortals who had not even embarked on the path beyond the mortal, he still used honorifics directly.

"How about a wager?"

Feeling that Husky in his arms had still not regained the ability to think, Thirteen Fragrances had to step up himself.

He looked at the Rot Fiend, saying in a deep voice, "I wager my royal blood against you."