Chapter 144: The Hanged Sage

Chapter 144: The Hanged Sage

The moment the final syllable left Asterion’s lips, the crimson light behind the stained-glass window flared into a brilliant, blinding artery-red.

The flagstones began to crack, igniting into a blinding lavender light. The upward-pouring pool of sacrificial oil at the statue’s base suddenly defied gravity entirely, violently splashing toward the ceiling in reverse rain.

Murphy’s head started to throb with a sharp, white-hot spike of agony that drove straight through his temples.

’He is the right... He is the right...’ The chant echoed in his mind, threatening to override his internal thinking.

Damn it.

Wrestling with the phantom maggots crawling under his skin, he bit his own tongue, using the pain to forcefully anchor his fleeing sanity.

Leaping from the narrow stone ledge, he abandoned the shadows entirely.

One of the cultists noticed the movement and looked back as his voice cracked when a dark silhouette dropped from the rafters like a falling stone. "Who’s there?!"

Before his boots even slammed against the hard flagstones, his right hand blurred.

Bang! Bang!

Two thunderous shots shattered the unholy cadence of the chant. The cultist holding the incense burner took a bullet straight through the throat, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed over an oak pew.

Clatter!

The incense from his hand broke apart as it hit the ground. The metal and glass scattered around the hall.

The dark grey smoke scattered wildly, breaking the flow of the ritual’s spiritual circuit. The second bullet tore through the shoulder of another lieutenant, spinning him around and sending his silver matchbox clattering across the floor.

Murphy landed with a thud, quickly disappearing as he sprang forward and aimed his revolver at Asterion’s vulture mask.

"Holy Sage of the Pit, I pray for protection!" Asterion roared, his voice turned into a frantic squeal behind the wood-carved beak. He stumbled backward against the altar, frantically clutching the rusted sacrificial knife. Without waiting for another moment, he brought the knife to his wrist and slashed it down. Blood spilled on the sacred altar, dripping over the ground.

"Guard! Kill him! Don’t let him touch the array! Hold back for a second."

The third, uninjured lieutenant drew a heavy, concealed flintlock pistol, but he was far too slow. Murphy stepped inside the man’s guard, his left hand snapping out to redirect the barrel upward.

Crack.

The flintlock discharged harmlessly into the vaulted ceiling, showering them in plaster dust.

With a brutal twist, Murphy drove the butt of his revolver hard into the cultist’s jaw. Bone splintered, and the man dropped.

BAM!!

The gunshot echoed, but suddenly the atmospheric pressure in the room faded.

The upside-down statue of the Hanged Sage vibrated visibly. The iron chains holding its legless torso rattled with an eerie chime. Murphy looked up and saw the carved hollow eyes of the deity, which weren’t empty anymore.

The cosmic entity was looking back. The crimson eyes stared directly at the men beneath as the bullet flattened before it could reach the lieutenant.

A heavy, suffocating weight pressed down on Murphy’s chest, forcing him almost down to one knee. His nose began to bleed, dark crimson drops pattering against the stone floor. The carved eye emblem on the floor beneath his feet began to glow with a faint, luminescent light, greedily drinking in the blood of the fallen cultist.

"It’s too late, Detective!" Asterion laughed hysterically, his hands trembling violently as he pointed the rusted knife toward the ceiling while the blood dripped from his wrist. "He sees you! You cannot stop the obscurity!"

Murphy grimaced, the violent, mad thoughts threatening to tear his mind into a dozen different personas. His fingers slipped on the grip of his gun. If he shot Asterion now, the dying man’s blood would only finalize the sacrifice.

His eyes locked onto the iron lever Asterion had pulled earlier to lower the statue.

The cosmic architecture... turn the earth, spill the sky.

Gathering every ounce of his willpower, Murphy forced his trembling legs to move. He ignored Asterion completely, lunging past the masked noble toward the side of the altar’s lever.

"No! Stay back!" Asterion screamed, lunging forward with the rusted knife.

Murphy shifted his body sideways and caught Asterion’s wrist before landing a heavy kick to force him away from the altar.

As Asterion stumbled back, Murphy glanced back before looking back at the statue that began to crumble as the stone around its mouth broke and then opened up.

’There are only thirteen authorities and only thirteen gods... but that power almost seems identical to an authority.’ Mo Fei thought in his mind as he stepped back for a second.

The stone dropped on the floor with a thud as the pillars around the Cathedral spread cracked lines alongside the bases. The statue’s hand opened wide into the air as the head and noose hung downward. ’Tch, his powers are unmatched; I can’t possibly fight it alone.’

Murphy slowly straightened his back, adjusting the brim of his fedora that had tilted during the chaos. He wiped the blood from his upper lip with the back of his glove, his cold, grey eyes locking onto the trembling figure of Asterion, who was now kneeling beside a ruined pillar.

Asterion gripped his wrist and hiccuped a laugh as he slowly stood up while the pillars behind him trembled. His two alive lieutenants stood up with a groan, slowly retreating.

Asterion turned and ran behind them. "Pray that you won’t get a cruel death."

"Tch." Murphy spat before he stood against the entity whose shell had begun to fall apart.

With a loud groan, it opened its eyes wide and looked at him with bloodshot eyes as the whole place began to absorb the surrounding light. The lanterns fell on the ground one by one, and the whole place shifted into a dark Cathedral only brightened by the dim light.

The chains around the Hanged Man snapped before dissolving into the air. Finally, he saw the legs, which were butchered, entirely mutilated as blood dripped toward the sky by defying the gravity.

Murphy’s shoulder throbbed as the pain from the mark intensified. ’Damn, I can’t leave, I’m already marked by it... but I can’t defeat it by just merely being at Mid Ordinal rank.’

The pressure in the air began to suffocate him, the gaze of a cosmic being could drive Mo Fei crazy at any moment.