Chapter 306: The Bell Ringer, Remote Substitution Fighter

"The collapse of these Marks of the Dark Sky will cause the spiritual corruption stored by the Night's Blade members to divert toward the Lady of Night's followers, won't it? Can the prayer communication network withstand such a massive surge of corruption?"

Wang Yu asked Zig and Avia, who stood beside him.

"Such a massive influx of spiritual corruption into the prayer communication network will certainly bring a tremendous shock. Fortunately, the number of the Lady of Night's followers is far greater now than before, so the burden can be distributed more times."

"Therefore, the prayer communication network shouldn't collapse directly because of this, but the spiritual corruption stored in the Marks of the Dark Sky is enough to crush a person's soul outright. Even if it is diluted several times over, it is impossible for there to be no impact."

Avia stared at the projection of the Tree of the Night Sky that the Lady of Night had manifested for them, her expression grave as she spoke.

The strange colors spreading across the Tree of the Night Sky represented the spiritual corruption; at this moment, this corruption from the Marks of the Dark Sky was spreading rapidly, invading the souls of the Lady of Night's followers through the prayer communication network.

"It really is a case of misfortunes never coming singly—first the revival of an ancient god, then an outbreak of spiritual corruption. This luck is truly something else."

Wang Yu stared at the pitch-black palm protruding from the blackened surface of the Tree of the Night Sky, muttering through gritted teeth.

"Hmm? Could we do this: temporarily cut off the connection with the other followers and let all this spiritual corruption pour into that reviving entity instead?"

With a sudden flash of inspiration, Wang Yu conceived a plan that sounded as reckless as ever.

"It seems... there is no problem with that. Spiritual corruption is different from ordinary things; it autonomously invades the souls of sentient beings.

So, if the connection to the other followers is severed, this spiritual corruption will flow through the prayer communication network toward the only remaining destination."

Zig paused, then affirmed Wang Yu's idea with a hint of hesitation.

"Then let's do it. It's better than doing nothing at all."

Wang Yu waved his hand and looked toward the Lady of Night.

The Lady of Night nodded, manipulating the "operating system" she had created based on the "Void Programming" Wang Yu had taught her, indirectly controlling the Tree of the Night Sky.

Under the command of the highest authority, the Tree of the Night Sky temporarily severed the Lady of Night's connection with all followers, save for the area where the dark hand protruded—the part already beyond her control remained unsevered.

Consequently, the spiritual corruption flooding into the prayer communication network, unable to divert toward the Lady of Night's followers, poured headlong into the region where the dark hand emerged, gradually vanishing.

"The spiritual corruption has disappeared."

The Lady of Night said to Wang Yu and the others.

"No, that's not right. It hasn't disappeared; its existence has been obscured. Invisible, inaudible, untouchable, imperceptible... forgotten by this world. What manifests externally is disappearance."

Zig spoke up to correct the Lady of Night's statement.

"After linking the Marks of the Dark Sky with the reviving darkness, I've understood the way this thing functions. Wang Yu, do you remember the prison at the bottom of the Abyss-Fallen? The power beneath that must be this very thing, as are the Marks of the Dark Sky."

Zig explained the nature of this reviving power and the objects that had appeared and been utilized within the Alastair Kingdom.

"That prison used to contain Void creatures? A mark that can store spiritual corruption... I see. No wonder entering the deepest level of the Abyss-Fallen leads to being forgotten and ceasing to exist, and why the Marks of the Dark Sky can neutralize and store spiritual corruption."

Information regarding those things surfaced in Wang Yu's memory. With Zig's prompt, Wang Yu realized the essence of the reviving power—just as the Lady of Night had said: nothingness, oblivion, an absolute state that went a step further than her own power.

"What Schrödinger's cat, what quantum superposition..."

Wang Yu tapped his head. Things were getting messy; he needed to think carefully about what to do next. Why was the power of this reviving god being used by a human kingdom, and could this power be dealt with?

"But if this power truly forces things into a state of uncertainty, wouldn't observing it solve the problem?"

Drawing on his half-baked scientific knowledge, Wang Yu thought of something he could do: see exactly what was inside the area on the Tree of the Night Sky obscured by the reviving dark power.

"Lady Darkness, can you open a very small Void rift? I will try to project the Chariot's power into that dark region of the Tree of the Night Sky to see what exactly is going on in there."

Wang Yu explained his plan to the Lady of Night while giving the girl a wink. Avia understood immediately and cast the spell "Perfect Fractal," forming a magical lens over Wang Yu's eye socket.

"Very well."

The Lady of Night agreed immediately, mobilizing her power to tear open a tiny Void rift, allowing Wang Yu to project his power into the Void and touch the Tree of the Night Sky.

Without hesitation, he reached out. The Chariot's power surged forth, passing through the Void rift into the Void, probing the region covered by the nihilistic dark power. Carried along with the Chariot's power was the spell Avia had cast upon Wang Yu: Perfect Fractal.

...

"Who are you!?"

Emon was startled by the figure who had suddenly appeared behind him and the question posed. He spun around with a violent leap, his eyes locked onto the abruptly appearing humanoid. His breathing grew rapid, his muscles tensed, ready to either retreat swiftly or engage in an all-out fight.

"Do you worship the God of Night...?"

The entity that had appeared seemed unremarkable; in appearance, he was a human male in his forties, his skin a sickly pale, wearing a robe riddled with holes.

His hands, exposed by the tattered sleeves, were gaunt and devoid of muscle. His eyes were strangely devoid of reflection, and he remained expressionless, simply watching Emon and repeating his question.

"..."

Emon did not act rashly; he merely stood silent, sword raised, watching the other party. He circulated his battle aura, slowly backing away while ensuring the stranger remained within his field of vision.

"I recite your name..."

He called out to the god he worshipped in his heart once more, yet still received no response. Emon sighed silently.

"Answer my question. You should not worship this unrevivable deity."

The middle-aged man watched Emon slowly retreating, his face still devoid of expression, though his tone grew heavier.

"Tell me who you are first, and why you brought us into this mist, and how I can leave here with my companions, and then I will answer your question."

Emon remained calm, neither initiating a conflict nor choosing to answer the question immediately.

"I am the Bell-Ringer of the Cult of the Lightless. Bringing you into this mist was to sever your connection with the God of Night, to prevent Him from reviving upon His own remains. As for how to leave, I will tell you after you answer my question."

Unexpectedly, the middle-aged man who called himself the Bell-Ringer frankly revealed his identity and purpose to Emon, which left the orc stunned for a moment.

"The god I worship is the Lady of Night. I do not know what connection She has to the God of Night you speak of."

Emon answered the question calmly.

"Then those who came here with you must also be followers of this deity you call the 'Lady of Night.' Indeed, the power of night I sensed from you was no illusion."

The Bell-Ringer nodded, speaking to himself.

"Now it is your turn to tell me how to leave here."

Emon stared at the Bell-Ringer, who seemed very satisfied with having received an answer, and spoke.

"I am sorry, but I cannot let you leave here. He cannot have any followers. Your faith will cause Him to be reborn upon the corpse of the ancient days. Therefore, I can only let you cease to exist in this world."

The Bell-Ringer shook his head slightly, his expression unchanged, his words carrying a hint of apology.

"I will make you spit out the answer."

Emon seemed to have anticipated that the Bell-Ringer would not tell him how to leave after getting his answer. As soon as the man finished speaking, Emon circulated his battle aura without hesitation and lunged forward with a violent kick off the ground.

Since this guy wanted to trap him here forever, there was no need to hold back. If he took the guy out, perhaps he could get the answer he wanted.

The orc's physique, bolstered by his battle aura, made Emon's speed astonishing. A green blur flashed through the air, and the heavy longsword in his hand was less than half a meter from the Bell-Ringer's neck.

Slightly pulling back his strength, the orc intended to use the man's life to threaten him into revealing the answer; otherwise, in the next moment, his sword would send the Bell-Ringer's head flying from his shoulders.

"Dong..."

A melodious bell toll rang out abruptly at that very moment, just before the orc's free hand could touch the man's shoulder to pin the sword against his throat.

"!"

The orc's hand passed through the bell-ringer's shoulder, his momentum carrying him sliding several meters across the ground before he could halt and spin around, eyes wide with astonishment, for he had been certain he was within reach.

"Remain here in this town; you have committed no sin, you were merely, perhaps, a victim of poor fortune, and you ought not to have placed your faith in that deity."

The bell-ringer spoke in a low, resonant voice, his form gradually blurring as he began to walk toward the town gates.

A tremor ran through Emon; the bell-ringer was a formidable foe, possessing some form of intangibility that spelled disaster for a knight of his standing.

Without hesitation, Emon turned and charged once more, refusing to let his quarry slip away with such ease.

"Do not waste your strength, settle yourself; your companions shall soon join you, for every devotee of the Lady of Night will be brought here by my hand, and you shall not be lonely."

Emon lunged again, his sword passing through the figure as if through mist, and in that moment, the orc felt a sudden, inexplicable realization.

His hand had not passed through the man because of some trick of intangibility, but because the bell-ringer’s power had stripped his own existence away, rendering him as spectral and hollow as the town itself.

The blade passed through the bell-ringer without resistance, and as the bell tolled once more, an invisible force descended upon the orc’s body and soul alike.

Emon felt his control over his own limbs vanish, his soul severed from the flesh it had once so tightly commanded, drifting into a state of hollow nothingness.

"How can this be!?"

He struggled to command his body, but his soul, shackled by the bell-ringer’s influence, could no longer exert any pressure upon the physical world; he could only watch in despair as the bell-ringer’s form faded, dissolving into the air as he neared the town’s exit.

He refused to surrender, yet as the bell-ringer neared total disappearance, the flame of hope in Emon’s heart flickered and dimmed.

"Thud!"

The sound of footsteps striking the earth—it was the sound of Emon’s own orcish body in full sprint.

Emon, trapped in his disembodied state, stared in disbelief; he felt no connection to his flesh, yet why was his body moving of its own accord?

The bell-ringer, on the verge of vanishing, halted his stride and turned, surprised to see the orc’s body charging toward him.

"A strange creature indeed; I shall see to it that your flesh is erased alongside your soul."

With a whisper, just as the orc’s hand reached for his throat, the bell tolled again, the invisible force pressing down to strip the orc’s body of its ability to interact with the world.

But it failed; the orc’s hand clamped firmly around the bell-ringer’s neck, lifting him high into the air to the man’s utter disbelief.

A layer of external power now coated the orc’s frame, a force against which the bell-ringer’s abilities were rendered void, and with this power came the perfect fractal lens manifesting over the orc’s right eye socket.

With the soul unable to command the flesh, the orc’s formidable body had become a vessel without a master, allowing the Chariot’s power, channeled through the Tree of the Night Sky, to seize control.

The substitute player has logged in.

[The author has entered a grueling exam week and must spend the next ten days in intense study, lest I fail my university finals. I will maintain a baseline of 3,500 to 4,500 words, but extra updates beyond 6,000 are unlikely; once the exams conclude, I will immediately return to the high-frequency update schedule seen during the May Day holiday.]