Chapter 63: Act 4: Altar and the Sinister Six

Blaze’s Agility was very high, so it didn’t take him long to run from Wolf Head Grass Village to the Sacrificial Stone Forest.

As he sprinted, he didn’t think about anything; he just wanted to shake off the stifling Qi in his heart. However, even by the time he reached the Sacrificial Stone Forest, he hadn’t succeeded.

The first time he came to the Sacrificial Stone Forest, he thought it was just a historical ruin and a Holy Land for believers to go on pilgrimage. Now, in his eyes, it was the final resting place of the cursed Arcadians. They had used their Faith and love to build magnificent yet unknown tombstones.

Blaze lowered his head and stepped into the fog with a humble attitude.

He could hear the painful panting of the Werewolves between the crevices of the stones. He didn’t know if the rays of the Sun made them uncomfortable, or if they were recalling their past in their dreams.

Following the clear footprints on the ground, Blaze passed through the smooth Stone Forest, walked into a deep and dark tunnel, and arrived at a massive underground space.

[Ancient Silver Altar]

It wasn’t completely pitch-black here. A huge hole had been cut out of the rock layer above the altar. Although the sky could be seen, the Sunshine was blocked by the Stone Forest. Only fragments of light kept the entire space in a hazy state.

At the center of the altar was a withered tree, and the boy wrapped in Lion Skin was standing beneath it.

The boy heard Blaze’s approaching footsteps. He turned his head, revealing an astonished expression.

"Sir Knight?" After his brief surprise, Romeo smiled.

"How is... Juliet?" Blaze asked.

"Other than not speaking, she is fine."

"Is that so?" Romeo’s smile grew strained. He looked up at the fissure above the altar and began to mutter to himself.

It was the story of how the boy and the girl met. What Blaze saw from Juliet was Romeo’s bravery and resilience, but according to Romeo himself, he was a coward who feared death. He used battle to escape his destiny and wounds to cover his timidity.

Unlike other Silver Believers who avoided their Werewolf forms, he almost always maintained his Werewolf appearance. This was because Werewolves wouldn’t shed tears, whereas in his Human form, he couldn’t help but cry out loud the moment he faced even a slight difficulty. It was Juliet who gave him courage—the courage to love, and the courage to face his mission.

Blaze approached Romeo. Even though this big boy claimed to be a crybaby and a coward, he held a Silver dagger in his hand.

"The blood in my body has gradually become tainted. I can feel another evil soul slowly taking over my body.

"I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I certainly don’t want to wake up one day to find the person I love reduced to a corpse at my feet, with blood foaming in my mouth."

"So your decision is to die here?" Blaze asked. "To leave Juliet all alone and end your own life?"

"I have no choice. This is the inescapable fate of the Arcadians," Romeo replied, his eyes red, yet forcing a strong smile.

Blaze finally realized what the stifling Qi in his chest was. Whether it was Romeo, the Silver Believers, or all the Arcadians—they treated their inevitable Transformation into mindless Werewolves as a destiny they couldn’t escape.

The world was so beautiful and vast, yet one by one, they died forever in this dark corner, filled with yearning for their loved ones.

Who could accept such a thing?!

"I will... I will..." Blaze clenched his fists and abruptly slammed Romeo against the withered tree.

"Sir Knight? Are you going to help me finish..."

"No!" Blaze growled. He snatched the Silver dagger hidden in Romeo’s hand and slowly backed away.

"I will do it! I will help all of you!

"You just wait right here for me!"

***

"Herbie Hermes, you have guests," the chicken said to Herbie, who was washing dishes, as it flapped its wings and landed on a branch.

"My full name...?" Herbie’s mouth twitched bitterly. She knew very well that a Transformation in how she was addressed symbolized distance. Going from "profiteer"—a nickname that practically summed up her entire being—to her full name was not a good sign.

She washed her hands and walked in the direction the chicken had pointed. She knew the chicken was watching from nearby, either monitoring her or protecting her.

Not far from Wolf Head Grass Village, a group of people stood waiting under a giant tree. It was a lineup that would make anyone dizzy just by looking at them.

There was the Death Druid who defiled Life and spread decay, the Ripper who swore to save Life yet reaped it, the Cannibal who placed his own kind on the dining table to feast greedily, and the Electric Saw Demon who took pleasure in tearing and shattering. Along with them was the Evil God Writer, who used a brush that conveyed beauty to open the gates for the Evil God.

The appearance of any one of these five in any town would trigger a terrifying riot, but now, all five had gathered together and appeared before her.

"Is this everyone?" Herbie pinched her palms hard behind her back to maintain her composure.

"No, we’re still missing one."

***

Five people were hiding sneakily not far away, observing from the shadows. One of the Viking lackeys muttered uneasily, "Didn’t they say that when an NPC sees Vice players, they’ll charge over in a suicidal frenzy? Looking at it, it seems more like those five are waiting for Hermes."

"How should I know!" another replied.

"Death Druid, Cannibal, Electric Saw Demon, Ripper, Evil God Writer... what kind of cheap knockoff of the Sinister Six is this? The Six Vice Group?"

"Six-person group? Aren’t there only five of them here?"

"Stop arguing!" The little girl interrupted her lackeys’ muttering. Standing in the middle, she spread her arms and struggled to wrap them around the necks of the four men. "There are only five of them, and their average level is under Level 50. Excluding me, our average is Level 85. If we attack together, they’ll never expect that our real target is that NPC."

"I don’t think that’s a good idea. That’s a friendly NPC."

"Hmm!?" The little girl raised an eyebrow and smacked each of the four heads beneath her. "Are you rebelling?"

"We didn’t say anything?" The four men turned around with bewildered expressions. None of them had spoken. They all turned their heads in unison, then froze like a still frame, their mouths wide open.

"B-b-b-behind—"

"What?" The little girl turned her head impatiently, only to find a massive Shadow looming over them.

It was a pale face. Scarlet paint covered a huge gash that ran across the entire face, forming an eerie, smiling expression. He wore a suit, but the poor piece of clothing was nearly bursting at the seams from his massive muscles.

He held a balloon in one hand and a dagger in the other. Blood dripped from the blade, as if he had just used it to perform a comical magic trick on his own face.

He was the Scary Clown, someone who should have been entertaining the audience with thrilling juggling acts, but instead danced gracefully amidst their terrified screams.

Her eyes rolling back, the little girl turned into virtual blocks and vanished amidst system warnings for an electrical short circuit and a sudden call of nature.

Seeing this, the other four immediately forced a log-out and disappeared from the spot.

The Scary Clown scratched the back of his head in confusion. He looked at the balloon in his hand, feeling a bit troubled. He had only wanted to give them a gift.