Chapter 195 The Followers

Richard believed that, at least in this second, half the people in the assembly hall were just like he had been a moment ago, their minds failing to register what they were hearing.

The other half, however, had already heard about it.

The skeletal "crown" on the high platform emitted a clicking sound once more, the brain within the crown's cage expanding and contracting, projecting its thoughts into the minds of every cultist present:

"Yes, she did indeed use brute force to wield a Deep Sea Hound as a weapon. This act is inconceivable, sounding absurd to the point of being comical. However, do not underestimate it, do not be careless. This power far exceeds your imagination—moreover, she possesses even more bizarre qualities.

"This heretic also appeared during our most recent operation, directly leading to the severe wounding of our 'allies.' Existing clues indicate that this heretic can resist the mental powers of the Children of the Sun. Her inner essence has most likely deviated from humanity, or she has already dedicated her soul to a higher-level transcendent being—

"She summons a green flame and uses it to burn our allies. These flames are extremely dangerous, and this type of flame has also appeared in Pland and Frost. Current intelligence indicates that this dangerous flame originates from that terrifying ghost ship.

"She is a follower of that ghost captain."

The Saint stopped. He did not directly mention the ghost ship or the captain's name, but when his voice trailed off, a slight commotion rippled through the hall. Annihilation cultists were whispering, carefully raising a series of veiled references in their cautious, hushed exchanges. An invisible tension spread through the assembly.

Richard, however, breathed a sigh of relief—at least for now, the attention of most people had finally shifted in another direction.

After a moment's pause, the Saint on the high platform continued, "Everyone here knows what happened in Frost—we suffered a major setback there. Another Saint was martyred in the flames, and we still cannot confirm the full extent of that failure. 'His' power almost erased everything related to the Holy Lord in the entire Frost Sea region, including our church brethren and the sacred source in the deep sea.

"In Pland, the same 'erasure' occurred. Flames incinerated everything, including the Sun's descendants and the 'Remnants.' All those connected to the event failed to escape 'His' purge. The entire city-state was sealed off and then cleansed. Intelligence was severed, and all those who knew the truth disappeared into the grinding gears of historical distortion. Then, the church of the Deep Sea False God took over everything…

"Under such a thorough 'cleansing,' little information could be transmitted. We spent a long time investigating the truth of what happened back then, and in the end, we could only confirm that the ship and its master were responsible… that shadow that returned from the subspace has now taken a stand against us.

"And now, we can confirm that 'He' has acted once again. His followers have directly caused significant losses in our most recent operations.

"And He has more than one follower."

The hall was completely silent. A strange sense of tension hung over everyone's heads. The Saint manipulated the black bones beneath his body. Under his control, the floating illusions in the air began to change. The girl in the black dress transformed into another person—the famous "Sea Witch," Lucrezia Abnormal.

"The heretic you just saw possesses great power and a bizarre, treacherous style, but she is merely one of the ghost captain's followers, and certainly not the most powerful. Existing evidence indicates that the 'Sea Witch' has also returned to the service of her father…"

A buzzing murmur filled the hall as the cultists whispered to each other, discussing the recent rumors circulating within the cult. The Saint on the high platform fell silent, slowly swaying his long eyestalks as he watched the followers in the hall.

After an unknown length of time, a voice finally broke the silence. It was a somewhat hoarse voice from near the platform: "Saint, we recently received news that the fleet has been rebuilt. It seems…"

"It seems the news is true," the Saint's voice resounded in everyone's minds. "It is likely that even more 'followers' will appear in that dream. However, the only two we have reasonably clear intelligence on are those you have seen—"

The illusions in the air shifted, the figures of the "Sea Witch" and the girl in the black dress alternately appearing in the projection.

"Lucrezia, the Witch, possesses a wealth of witchcraft and curse powers, is erudite in the transcendent domain. She has a powerful retinue of servants and an equally powerful ghost ship. The Dream of the Nameless can weaken her power to some extent. She should not be able to bring that ghost ship and her army of servants into the dream. But even if you only face her alone, you must be extremely vigilant.

"The heretical woman who calls herself 'Sarah' is likely using a false name. Her appearance is very young, but this appearance may also be false. She possesses unnatural strength, an abnormal demonic contract, and is confirmed to be at least immune to mental pollution from the Children of the Sun. In addition to the information already known, this heretic has another extremely abnormal trait, which is the focus of what I am about to say—

"The Deep Sea Hound accompanying her possesses intelligence and the ability to communicate."

The hall erupted into commotion once again. This time, the discussions coming from all directions were even louder and more widespread than before.

A sentient Deep Sea Demon?!

If these words had not come from the Saint's mouth, the Annihilation cultists present would have reacted by thinking—what kind of mad ravings are these?!

Richard stood silently among his fellow cultists, already anticipating this situation.

If he hadn't personally witnessed that unbelievable scene, he would never have believed that a Deep Sea Hound could speak human language, could engage in rational communication—although that communication was not pleasant.

"Saint, are you saying this is true?" A cultist couldn't help but look at the high platform, mustering the courage to ask. "A sentient Deep Sea Demon?"

"Incredible, but the evidence is conclusive," the pile of bones on the high platform slowly writhed. A faint light floated on the surface of the brain encased in the skeletal cage. This seemed to be some kind of emotional reaction. "Therefore, we must pay more attention to this special Deep Sea Hound and its contractor."

The Saint raised his eyestalks. Unknowingly, his tone seemed to carry a rising, encouraging power.

"The intervention of that ghost captain is a challenge for us. I will not hide this danger from my brethren. However, our cause has been fraught with dangers from the very beginning. We cannot retreat, nor will we choose to retreat. The operations in the Dream of the Nameless will continue. Therefore, we will sooner or later deal with 'His' followers again.

"These 'followers' are powerful, but they are far from matching their master. Moreover, their numbers are few. With sufficient preparation, these 'followers' are not invincible.

"And now, we can confirm that at least one 'follower' carries an extremely important secret—that Deep Sea Hound with intelligence is a mystery we have never encountered on our path to seeking the truth. Perhaps it holds the last piece of the puzzle in the path to advancement.

"Find that heretic calling herself 'Sarah,' at any cost, seize her and her demon—brethren, the mission is difficult, the dangers are many, but believe me, it is worth your efforts. The path to pure ascension is finally revealing its true face to us. The arduous challenge is proof of the correctness of this path.

"Brethren, do not worry. We do not need to directly confront that captain. We only need to find His followers. This is feasible… and when our cause is finally completed, when the era's transition ends, even that ghost captain will no longer be a threat to us. He will become a phantom, remaining in the last second of this Deep Sea Age…"

The Saint's voice echoed directly in the depths of everyone's minds. On the high platform, the throne woven from black bones clicked and clacked. The thorn-like bone spurs and shell-like structures collided as if tapping a drumbeat. The surface of the living brain fluctuated with layers of misty light. Accompanying the seductive words, the power released from the brain invigorated the minds of everyone in the hall, gradually planting seeds of fanaticism in their hearts—

These seeds took root and sprouted, rapidly countering the tense and fearful emotions caused by the mention of that ghost ship and that ghost captain. They even transformed this tension and fear into some inexplicable motivation, into a steadfastness towards faith and mission!

Richard stared blankly upwards, subconsciously watching the Saint's eyestalks swaying in the air. He also felt the heat and impulse surging in his chest, felt his beliefs gradually becoming firm. The fear that had taken root in his heart after seeing those ghostly green flames was unknowingly dissipating…

But at that moment, a soft voice drilled into his ear, as if the voice's owner was lying on his shoulder, speaking directly into his ear, "drilling" the sound into his brain: "Ah, he's urging you to die… Rabi is truly sad for you…"

Richard "woke up" with a start. In an extremely brief moment, he suddenly felt a chill, felt as if something was spreading along his chest, along his neck, towards his brain. He felt that he had heard suspicious whispers, that the whispers originated from something extremely dangerous…

But he only blinked, and the warning signs in his heart vanished.

He looked around with some confusion, and then looked up at the Saint on the high platform.

Why were his fellow cultists so excited, so fearless?

What the Saint said was indeed true, and his encouragement was reasonable, but what about the dangers of the operation? Was everyone turning a blind eye to them?

Richard frowned, feeling that something was wrong. This dazed feeling… made him feel as if he was falling into a strange dream. Although he was awake at this moment, his mind always seemed to be filled with a chaotic, confused obstruction, as if… cotton had been stuffed into his brain.

But soon, he forgot this doubt, and the new changes in the hall shifted his attention.

A sudden "heat" swept through the assembly hall.