73: Chapter 73: The Crimson Sacrifice Begins! Blood-Red Twilight!

Northwest of Ice Lake City, the Mess Mountains stretched across the skyline.

At the end of a spur extending from the range, Mount Elbrus, lay Mist Whisper Town.

The morning mist was cold and heavy, blurring the outlines of the distant mountains into a hazy gray shadow.

The air was permeated with a slightly pungent, bitter scent of plants.

It was the smell of dried Mist-Vine Thorns.

This plant, which grew on Mount Elbrus, was the specialty upon which the town relied for survival.

Mist Whisper Town did not belong to any hereditary noble; instead, it was managed by officials directly appointed by the Ice Lake City Commercial Alliance, functioning more like a raw material trading outpost.

More than a month ago, after the priest of the town's Dawn Church was murdered, the Church had yet to dispatch a new priest to take over.

One day before the date of the New Moon Rift, Rowan used Shape-shifting to disguise himself as an ordinary traveling merchant and quietly arrived at this town, which was shrouded in mist year-round.

He chose to stay at the "Old Oak" inn, which offered a relatively broad view.

His room was on the second floor, with windows facing the town's central square and several main streets.

After settling in, he walked along the town streets. A flash of Flame Purple flickered in his eyes as he activated his Insight trait, quietly scanning the seemingly peaceful town.

There were not many pedestrians on the streets; most were wrapped in thick clothing, hurrying along, their voices lowered.

The market was still quite lively, trading Mist-Vine Thorns, mountain goods, furs, and daily necessities from Ice Lake City.

The patrolling town guards walked by listlessly, yawning repeatedly.

However, under Rowan's meticulous perception, he still captured some discordant noises.

Occasionally, figures in dark cloaks would flash by near a manor and then quickly disappear.

But that was all.

He looked toward the manor, which was said to belong to a certain wealthy merchant, frowned, and did not approach.

Meanwhile.

Outside Mist Whisper Town, in a hidden valley.

An exquisite concealment magic circle and isolation barrier had been set up here, blending perfectly into the shadows of the mountain.

From the outside, this was just a desolate valley overgrown with bushes.

But inside, a lean and elite team was now stationed.

Aria, wearing a pure white ritual robe, stood on a higher rock, looking calmly through the valley exit at the distant town shrouded in mist.

Her expression was as indifferent as ever, without any superfluous emotion.

Only the cold aura that naturally radiated from her, belonging to an Arbitration Priest, made the surrounding air appear exceptionally solemn.

Behind her to the side stood Commander Calvin of the Temple Knight Order, standing firm like an iron tower.

He wore light chainmail suitable for mountain movement, covered by a moon-white cloak bearing the Dawn holy emblem. His light gray eyes were sharp as an eagle's, staring toward the town.

Behind him, sixty elites selected from the Temple Knight Order were lined up solemnly.

Everyone's gaze was steady, their aura deep as an abyss, and the lowest among them was a high-ranked Apprentice Knight.

Among them, there were over twenty Official Knights.

The two captains were even at the realm of Peak Knights.

Coupled with Commander Calvin, who was a Great Knight, this was the powerful force the Church possessed, sufficient to suppress any noble within a county.

They did not enter Mist Whisper Town directly.

Premature exposure would only alert the enemy.

They waited quietly for the arrival of the time node mentioned in the intelligence.

Time passed bit by bit.

The late autumn mountain wind was exceptionally sharp, whipping Aria's silver hair and the hem of her pure white ritual robe.

Yet she seemed oblivious.

Meanwhile, inside Mist Whisper Town, deep within the manor that Rowan had noticed.

Underground in a thoroughly remodeled space, the air was murky and permeated with a thick smell of blood.

The walls were engraved with twisted, eerie crimson runes, which were currently flickering with an ominous dark red light.

In the center of the space was a circular altar constructed of some dark metal, over ten meters in diameter.

The surface of the altar was crisscrossed with gullies, now filled with steaming dark red liquid, forming an eerie blood pool.

Standing in front of the altar was a figure wearing dark red priestly robes.

It was the Crimson Priest of the Crimson Knights: Caleb Gray.

He held a bone dagger high, chanting eerie prayers in a low voice. His voice was hoarse and fanatical, emitting a scalp-tingling buzzing sound.

On a slightly higher platform on the other side of the altar, two people stood side by side.

Count Farrell was dressed in casual clothes, his body faintly radiating the heavy pressure of a Great Knight.

His expression was calm, but deep in his eyes danced a trace of suppressed excitement and imperceptible anxiety.

The other person was the Pale Knight, forever shrouded in a gray-white cloak and a pale mask.

He stood quietly, as if merging with the surrounding shadows, with only the occasional crimson light flashing beneath the mask revealing his nature as a living being.

Directly in front of the altar were neatly arranged hundreds of crystal-clear containers, as if carved from red crystal.

In each container, there was submerged a heart... that was still beating weakly!

The color of the hearts was eerily bright red, and their surfaces were wrapped in fine black patterns, as if they possessed independent life.

Each one was a top-quality specimen carefully selected.

A full three hundred and seventy-three of them!

"Three represents the triple shackles of the abyss, and it is also the triple ritual for my Lord, the Lord of Scarlet, to forge a blood pact with believers," the Pale Knight explained softly to Count Farrell, his voice carrying a strange rhythm.

"Three is the beginning, and also the end!"

"And seven symbolizes the seven sins of the scarlet, and it is also the seven-stage path of ascension revealed by the blood-red oracle, corresponding to seven kinds of extreme pain and pleasure."

"Three hundred and seventy-three... This is the minimum sacred number required for a complete 'Flesh Reincarnation' ritual."

"When these pure materials bearing fear, pain, and despair are integrated into the altar, and the power of the blood moon reaches its peak, the radiance of my Lord will penetrate the New Moon Rift!"

"The grace... will also arrive as scheduled!"

Count Farrell nodded silently, his fingers unconsciously rubbing a blood-colored crystal inside his sleeve.

Time passed, and the sun slanted westward.

Above Mist Whisper Town, the thick fog that never dispersed all year round seemed to be infected by an invisible force and began to change color slowly.

Wisps of pale red mist, like drops of blood dripping into clear water, seeped out from certain corners of the town, spreading and diffusing rapidly, interweaving and mixing with the original white fog.

In the end, the entire town was shrouded in an eerie and hazy pale red mist!

"Why has the fog turned red?"

"This fog... it smells so strange!"

"Go home quickly! Close the doors and windows!"

On the town streets, the townspeople were startled by this sudden anomaly, stopping in their tracks one after another, looking up, their faces showing expressions of shock and unease.

Various discussions arose in the pale red mist, breaking the tranquility of the town's twilight.

On the second floor of the "Old Oak" inn, Rowan, standing by the window, had his pupils shrink slightly.

It's here!

He instantly locked onto the source of the pale red mist.

It was indeed the manor where he had discovered the anomaly earlier! ...