Chapter 463: Revenge of the Dark Moon

Chapter 463 The Revenge of the Dark Moon

Kevin leaped down from Ventura, sticking out his tongue and jumping about frantically on the spot.

From the corners of his mouth, one could even see drooling saliva flying off.

Alfred walked up to Karen's side and reported in a low whisper.

The Bone of a God?

Was it on that woman in red?

Or perhaps, that woman in red was merely a puppet, and her inner core was the Bone of a God?

As for whose bone it was, it was easy to guess, because Karen had long known that the Dark Moon lineage possessed a goddess.

"Woof, woof, woof!"

Kevin ran up to Karen, barking incessantly, clearly coveting that bone intensely.

Though it was almost an instinct for a dog to love chewing on bones, the Bone of a God... well, pairing it with his own golden retriever did not seem terribly inappropriate either.

Karen sat down, while the others began to "clean up."

They had to erase all traces of this place and dispose of the personal effects of Anse and Mota.

This was an accident, an accident beyond Karen's control, so although Anse and Mota had met with misfortune while Karen reaped the benefits, Karen felt no guilt in his heart.

Just like the countless lives instantly annihilated under cannon fire in that naval battle, there was nothing to get hung up on.

Muri walked toward the others, beginning to speak to each of them in a low whisper; this matter had to be kept strictly secret.

Yet he also knew that no one would turn informant; though this group could not be called unbreakable, the mere matter of Mota, Anse, and this mysterious island was not enough to make anyone contemplate betrayal.

There certainly existed many informants in this world who enjoyed doing things that harmed others without benefiting themselves, but thankfully, no such low-IQ trash existed within Karen's squad.

"Woof, woof, woof!"

"Stupid dog, quiet down." Purr could not help but leap onto Kevin's back, raising her feline paw and delivering a swift flurry of slaps to Kevin's head.

Kevin finally quieted down, looking at Karen with expectant eyes.

He did not believe Karen would remain unmoved by this, because everyone knew: anything directly related to a god harbored immense value.

Alfred stood to the side, waiting very quietly for his young master to make a decision.

Finally, Karen turned his head to glance at the woods behind him; predictably, that woman in red should have returned to the well in the center of that cratered pit.

"Let us leave."

Karen made his choice.

Kevin: "..."

Immediately, Kevin started barking again: "Woof, woof, woof!"

Alfred's gaze narrowed.

Purr delivered a heavy blow to Kevin's head, cursing, "No demagoguery allowed!"

Karen smiled and asked, "What did he say?"

Purr offered hurriedly, "The stupid dog says he is hungry."

Alfred answered, "Kevin says the God of Order never retreats."

Hearing this, Karen did not grow angry, but instead replied, "Then why was the God of Order in the Light Camp at the very beginning?"

This was an unalterable fact; even though the Church of Light had now perished and the Church of Order had heavily edited and deleted the parts concerning Light in the mythological narratives of the *Light of Order*, it remained an unchangeable truth that during the early to mid-stages of the previous era, the God of Order was a member of the Light Camp.

Kevin seemed to realize he had misspoken, and could only wag his tail somewhat despondently; he was just a dog and had no power to make decisions.

Karen commanded Muri, "Set out through the night, leave this island and head to our next destination."

"Yes, Captain."

That woman in red was simply too terrifying.

This island, bearing the handiwork of a god, was also far too bizarre; after all, they had personally inspected the grounds earlier without finding any anomalies, yet Mota and Anse had died with such effortless ease.

It was a mercy that the losses were those two; if the losses had been other squad members... or perhaps Alfred or Purr, Karen would have found such a loss unacceptable.

Karen spoke, "Kevin, leave a coordinate here. When the time is ripe in the future, we will return. When that time comes, if all else fails, we can just tear this island apart completely."

Kevin nodded and padded up to Alfred, who put down his backpack, pulled out some array materials from within, and began assisting Kevin in setting up the coordinate.

Two hours later, the "house" was once again secured upon the sea beast, Kevin had finished setting up the coordinate, and everyone returned to the back of the sea beast.

Perched upon Karen's shoulder, Purr spoke up, "Karen, if it were the old me, I certainly would not have left just like this."

"And what about the current you?"

"I agree with leaving."

"Heh."

The sea beast began to swim, gradually drawing away from the island.

Though two people had been lost, the game of Werewolf could still be played; fewer people just meant a different setup, but for the moment, no one possessed the inclination to initiate the game again.

No one would weep with grief over the deaths of Anse and Mota, but the sense of loss in their hearts after losing two people was unavoidable.

Karen originally intended to rest and just sleep it off; upon waking, the dawn would bring a new day.

Yet just as that island vanished from their line of sight, a tearing, agonizing pain suddenly erupted from the position of Karen's eyes.

"Ah!"

This excruciating pain came far too suddenly and with far too much intensity, causing Karen to drop directly to his knees, clutching his eyes as a cry of agony escaped him, because the level of pain had reached, or even surpassed, the degree to which Karen had roasted his soul with the Fire of Light.

Fresh blood began to drip continuously from between Karen's fingers.

It felt as though there were two threads, both tied to a single fixed nail, with the other ends wrapped around his eyes; now, as he pulled the distance apart and the threads tightened, a violent tugging sensation felt as though it would yank his eyes clean out of their sockets—no, it was as if it would completely rip his "vision" away from his soulful perception.

"Stop!" Purr immediately commanded the sea beast. "Turn around, go back, turn around, quick, quick, quick!"

The sea beast obediently began to turn around, swimming back toward the island.

The pain in Karen's eyes began to gradually subside, but in just this brief span of time, his body had already been drenched in cold sweat, and his hair was soaking wet.

Blanche walked over intending to heal Karen, but Karen raised his hand, signaling her not to move just yet.

"A wet towel."

"Yes, Captain."

Blanche immediately wetted her towel, and Karen lifted his head, letting her wipe the bloody stains from his face.

"What... is going on here?" Mars could not help but ask.

Memphis spoke up, "In this world, there is no such thing as a gift given without reason."

In truth, Memphis was missing a crucial piece of information, which was that he did not know Karen possessed the Eye of the Dark Moon.

Yet what he said was not wrong, because Karen's violent agony just now was precisely due to a flare-up of the Eye of the Dark Moon.

Karen had originally thought this was an accidental benefit of his, that the people of the Dark Moon clan had bound the people of the Moon God Church to the island, and the woman in red had bestowed a gift upon receiving the sacrifice—it was a cycle, and he just happened to be standing at that point of the cycle.

Only now did it seem that matters... were not so simple.

Purr said, "I think perhaps a ritual was missing, this whole process lacked a proper conclusion."

Kevin nodded, sharing the exact same sentiment.

Karen asked, "What sort of ritual? Am I supposed to go over to that well and say thank you to her?"

Purr shook her head and replied, "If only it were that simple. What I dread most is some highly specific closing ritual—and where are we supposed to find the procedure for it? This place seems to have been abandoned for ages. Those signs of past human activity are from long ago; we might be the only ones to trigger it again in the last hundred, or even hundreds, of years."

"Woof, woof, woof!" (Dig up the bones and stew them into broth, that solves everything!)

"Shut up, you stupid dog!"

"Smack!"

Purr delivered another sharp slap to Kevin’s head.

"It can be reverse-engineered," Memphis interred. "I believe those rows of humanoid sculptures in the pit must be a part of the closing ritual. Before, we failed to realize this and merely ran checks for energy and formation fluctuations. Now that we're aware, we might just be able to deduce it."

"Then we can only rely on you," Purr said. "Keep it up, Memphis, I have high hopes for you."

Memphis caught himself in a brief daze, then nodded.

The sea beast docked once more, and the company disembarked from its back. Wasting no time, they walked together into the woods, arriving before long at the site of the pit.

Karen stepped down, approaching the edge of the well, but this time he did not hastily bend over to peer inside, for he had a premonition that he would see something altogether different.

Yet, without looking, he would not know what to do next; after a moment's hesitation, Karen leaned his body forward and looked down.

The water within the well had turned a dark crimson, and an invisible, dragging suction took hold of him, though this force was not particularly strong; Karen broke free with ease, then took two steps back and said:

"Yes, it is the final link that is missing."

The well still held a tether on him, and he had to sever it here before he could ever leave the vicinity of this island.

Purr immediately commanded, "Everyone, start looking for clues to reverse-engineer the closing ritual."

Memphis, Mars, and Alfred began to re-examine the surrounding humanoid sculptures, while Purr, perched upon Kevin’s back, was also searching for clues.

The rest of the group formed a defensive perimeter around the well—which was, in truth, a perimeter around their captain.

Yet everyone knew in their hearts that if the previous events reoccurred, with their current level of strength, it would be difficult to mount any real resistance.

Philomena stood there, her gaze sweeping across the others from time to time as images of Ans and Mota being slain began to surface in her mind; she knew the captain and the others must have concealed a portion of the information, but she had no interest in asking, nor any desire to know. Everyone had the right to keep their own secrets, and she harbored no great yearning to force her way into the inner circle; of course, neither did she wish to be ostracized as she had been before.

Gradually, she felt her eyelids grow heavy, as though a deep slumber were beckoning.

She instantly jolted awake with alarm—how could she possibly fall asleep at a time like this?

No,

to be precise, why was she experiencing such symptoms in the first place?

...

"Gurgle, gurgle..."

From within the well, the sound of bubbling began to rise, as if a great boiler lay beneath, bringing the water inside to a rolling boil.

Yet in the entire clearing, only Karen... and a dog could hear this sound.

Carrying Purr as he observed the finer details of their surroundings, Kevin sensed something and immediately pressed his canine ears down flat against the ground.

Purr noticed the movements of the foolish dog beneath her and turned her head to look, only to find Karen, who was sitting near the mouth of the well, his face once again contorted in an expression of intense agony.

Karen now felt as though two searing branding irons were pressed against his eyes; a burning torment radiated through them, though it was far better than the sudden, tearing wrench he had felt a moment ago when they tried to leave on the sea beast. Relying on his own sheer willpower, Karen forced himself to endure it, unwilling to disrupt Memphis and the others in the rhythm of their search.

Purr spoke up to urge them on, "Everyone, faster."

With his hands tucked inside his sleeves, Memphis spun his Rubik's cube at a furious pace; he would actually look back at Karen's condition from time to time, and for reasons unknown, seeing Karen suffer brought a rising tide of anxiety into his own heart.

This anxiety transcended a member's concern for a captain... or even a priest's devotion to a temple elder.

It was a sensation of utter panic, as if countless voices were screaming in his mind, telling him to find it quickly, that he must find it quickly, or else he would never be able to forgive himself!

Memphis could swear that even when he accidentally broke one of his son's bones while beating him, he had never felt this worried!

Purr's expression was grave in the extreme; it was now practically confirmed that this was the cascading chain reaction born from the absence of the closing ritual.

Karen covered his eyes with his hands, unable to even open them now; each time he blinked, it felt as though splinters of spitting magma were rolling into his pupils.

Philomena, meanwhile, began to yawn, finding herself unable to hold out much longer; she raised her hand and spoke:

"Everyone, my body seems to be under some sort of draw, and something is going wrong. I must leave this place first."

"What is it?" Blanche immediately rushed over, casting a detection spell upon Philomena, then murmured in bewilderment, "It seems as though your soul is falling into a deep slumber."

Seeing this, Purr instantly shouted, "Muri, take Philomena out of here! Damn it, that thing didn't close its lid after going back, and now it's trying to crawl out again—she's looking for a host!"

Muri crouched down before Philomena, gesturing for her to climb onto his back.

But Philomena pushed Muri away directly and ran toward the outer perimeter on her own; seeing this, Muri immediately called out to Bart and Ventura to give chase.

Right at that moment, a wet, snapping sound echoed by Karen's ear; enduring the excruciating pain, he forced his eyes open and looked to his side, only to find that a hand had already reached out from the mouth of the well to grasp the edge, followed by a woman's arm.

She was coming out!

The woman’s face emerged from the well, and though her countenance remained entirely shrouded by her hair, the direction she faced was unmistakably where Philomena had fled.

Only this time, as she reappeared, her body exhibited a distinctly extra, unnatural tremor.

Her form crawled out completely, standing upon the very rim of the well.

Kevin looked toward her and let out a series of sharp barks. "Woof, woof, woof!"

As if hearing Kevin’s cries, the woman turned to face him.

Kevin immediately spun around to present his back to her, staring with rapt concentration at the sculpture before him as if he had just uncovered some monumental secret.

This "woman" was clearly on the verge of losing control.

She was the core of this altar, but after this altar was constructed, it could be said that ninety percent of its function was to bind her, to make her a docile "tool," to use her as a grinding stone; to grind the believers of the Moon God into a pulp for the followers of the Dark Moon to drink.

Now it seemed that the closing ritual might very well be the most critical phase of this entire sacrifice.

The reason Kevin turned his back again was that he could roughly divine what the "woman" intended to do: she was searching for a body.

If one were to rank them, there were three individuals whose bodies were most suited for her entry.

The first was Karen's body—the Eye of the Dark Moon was the ultimate match—but the most suitable Karen possessed a "protection mechanism," which was evident from the very beginning when Karen was shielded within the barrier while power was funneled in to nurture the Eye of the Dark Moon. Karen was the most fitting host, yet he was the one the woman could least afford to strike against.

The remaining two were his own body and Philomena's.

Yes, Kevin knew full well that his golden retriever form was also suited to bear this woman, for he lived within this body; the seals laid down by Old Hoffen might appear to be an internal restraint, but were they not also a home capable of housing a powerful soul?

As for Philomena... her unique traits made her the most ideal target for possession, for she had always inverted reality and dreams, leaving her physical body in reality far more "untouched."

The woman's form began to float, preparing to pursue Philomena.

Seeing this, Karen immediately reached out and gripped the woman's ankle tight, arresting her movement.

The woman lowered her head, casting a cold gaze down upon Karen, and then a tremendous force slowly but surely pried his hands apart.

Under no circumstances could Karen allow the woman to pursue Philomena; once she possessed Philomena's body, heaven only knew what further mutations and horrors would unfold.

Naturally, the most immediate consequence he could foresee was that the woman, further liberated from her shackles and gaining true autonomy, would first seize the Eye of the Dark Moon for herself.

"Chains of Order!"

Streams of dark chains erupted from Karen's form, while he simultaneously activated the Eye of the Dark Moon, enduring a searing, excruciating agony.

In an instant, the restrictive force the woman exerted upon him diminished, allowing Karen not only to grasp her ankles once more with both hands but also to bind her securely with the Chains of Order.

The woman was gradually exerting her might to shatter the restraints; her power was immense, making it seem almost inevitable that she would break free.

Abandoning all hesitation, Karen rose to his full height and lunged at the woman, throwing the weight of the chains forward to hurl both himself and her together into the dark depths of the well.

"Captain!"

"Young Master!"

"Woof, woof, woof!!!"

Pu'er cried out, "He is still the safest among us for now! Quick, find the clues to the concluding ritual, hurry!"

...

Plunge!

Karen felt himself submerge into the frigid well water, having successfully dragged the woman down into the abyss with him.

At that moment, his gaze drifted downward, discovering that at the absolute nadir of the well sat a woman robed in magnificent, crimson attire.

This did not signify the presence of another living soul at the bottom; rather, it was a spiritual imprint left behind, manifesting a scene that had transpired countless ages ago.

Within the vision, golden blood flowed from the woman's body, for she was evidently grievously wounded, yet the aura she exuded remained terrifying and awe-inspiring.

Prostrate all around her knelt a vast multitude of people, their countenances filled with grief, indignation, and sorrow.

The woman reached out, tearing open her own flesh to gouge the bones from her body one by one, laying them out before her.

"We have lost, but I shall never surrender.

"Pass down my divine decree: distribute my bones piece by piece to the various tribes, fashioning them into stone pestles to crush the faith of Artemis, and to nourish my faithful followers.

"I firmly believe,

"That we shall, after all, stand upright once more,

"That we shall, after all, grow mighty once more,

"That we shall, after all, wage our war of vengeance once more.

"The Dark Moon,

"Is my faith, and it is yours.

"For there will come a day,

"When we shall cause that noble yet filthy moon in the heavens to lose all its luster!"