Bizarre Realm-Chapter 382 - 30: Three Paths of Purgatory! Demon Lord

Chapter 382: Chapter 30: Three Paths of Purgatory! Demon Lord

Burial Altar.

Deep beneath the Great Tomb, a dark shadow transformed into a chilling wind, sweeping through the bone-laden passageway. Upon landing, it took the shape of a phantasmal figure—a faintly glowing skeleton, surrounded by swirls of gray mist. Resentful spirits surged forth and back within its form, circling the dark underground tomb, unable to escape the binding, and were once again absorbed into this skeletal shadow.

Binding Spirit.

It used its body as a container, imprisoning these resentful spirits within its form.

"Master Ghost."

The skeletal shadow bowed respectfully, saying: "We have discovered the traces of the Celestial Calamity Messenger Team, and the Calamity Knight has also arrived at the Ring City."

A wisp of eerie blue Soul Fire ignited.

In the darkness, a dried-up skeletal corpse slowly rose, its tattered Magic Robe engraved with countless Death Runes. Beneath the long hem of the robe, black sludge flowed, spreading along the Bone Throne. With pale bony fingers, it grasped the nearby Magic Staff, speaking in a hoarse and deep voice: "Is Aemon here as well?"

The hoarse voice echoed heavily within the underground tomb.

A Witch Demon.

A very powerful Witch Demon. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The Path of Death is never short of Witch Demons; over nearly a thousand years, countless strong beings from the Path have infused their souls into soul vessels, transforming into Witch Demon forms.

The wandering ghostly reflection murmured: "Isn’t Aemon supposed to have left this world?"

The ghost emitted a derisive chuckle, shaking its head: "That’s the Deceiver—Aemon."

"The only surviving Fire Thief from the Dark Era, a legendary immortal, the nameless bearer of the Undying Body."

"He may have left."

"But he might also have left an incarnation here or chosen someone as his successor."

"Aemon must have already arrived."

Whether this Aemon is the previous Aemon, no one knows.

But only Aemon can command the Celestial Calamity Messenger Team.

The phantom ghost seemed to show a trace of dread, whispering: "We only detected the Calamity Knight’s presence; could that mad Witch Demon have come as well?"

The ghost shook its head: "It can’t come."

"After the battle at Dele, its body was thoroughly destroyed. Even resurrection requires Time."

"We only need to deal with Three Celestial Calamity Messengers."

Upon saying this, the Witch Demon on the Bone Throne stood, speaking solemnly: "Wherever the Celestial Calamity Messengers go, a calamity is sure to arise."

"Since they have arrived."

"Then we can’t wait any longer; prepare to launch the ’Feast of Hunger,’ Aemon won’t give us much Time."

The spectral ghost hesitated, saying: "But... the old thing from the Horn Clan isn’t ready yet."

The Witch Demon chuckled lightly: "Haven’t you realized yet?"

"That old thing doesn’t matter, the master doesn’t care, and neither do we."

"He’s just a mascot in the ceremony, a sacrifice. If he’s not ready, we’ll help him get ready and send him directly to the Ascension Ceremony."

"Nobody hopes for this Dark Ceremony to succeed from the start."

"What we care about is the Undead Calamity!... and the Law of Death condensed from the Undead Calamity!..."

The Witch Demon’s figure walked towards a silent passageway. As it strolled, rustling sounds emanated from countless tombs, and it uttered in a deep voice: "The master desires souls!... countless mortal souls!... the more, the better!..."

Buzz.

Clusters of eerie Soul Fire ignited in the darkness, under the dim light, awakening the bodies of Corpse Witches, Corpse Demons, and specters. The Witch Demon’s deep voice declared: "Let us send the old thing to ascend the divine platform!"

With a wave of its hand, a heavy door opened, revealing dry bodies, all of them mummies, bowing before a black altar.

Wisps of blue flame spread along the ground runes, reviving these long-deceased mummies, all sharing the same surname—Horn. At the forefront of the altar were three mummified bodies clad in dark robes, their desiccated visages bearing a semblance of resemblance, seemingly three brothers of shared blood, though they’ve long been drained of Life Force.

Awaken the Undead!

These deceased Horn Clan members were all transformed into Corpse Witches and Corpse Demons. The foremost three brothers, filled with immeasurable resentment and madness, knelt before the altar, beginning to pray, chanting in an ancient Warlock tongue.

Black Tower.

At the throne atop the tower, a massive figure suddenly awoke from a nightmare, seemingly realizing something, and roared furiously: "Who?!"

"Who started the ceremony early?!"

Each prayer echoed heavily in his mind. The massive figure struggled to rise, clutching his head and howling in agony: "Get out!"

"Get out of my head!"

"Who is praying?!"

Black threads from all directions converged on the Black Tower; the target of these threads of faith was a single entity—an old man suddenly awakened on the throne. His mind reverberated with thousands of whispers, from the living, the dead, and even his offspring, piercing deep into his Mind, frantically pouring into his brain, causing him such agony that his brain tissue trembled and convulsed.

This twisted Power of Faith was beyond what a mortal could digest.

"Father..."