Bone of a God!

The sudden voice and the baffling mention of an "offering" put Karen on instant alert. He raised his hand at once and shouted: "On guard!" Yet despite his loud warning, the others playing Werewolf over by the campfire showed no reaction at all, continuing their game as if nothing had happened. A barrier? A formation array? An isolation membrane? Karen reached forward. The Sword of Arius, which should have flown straight into his grasp, remained lying quietly beside the bonfire. Without a moment's hesitation, Karen spread his hands and commanded in a low voice: "Chains of Order!" Chains of Order shot forth from beneath Karen's feet, violently slamming outward into the surrounding space. Bang! Bang! Bang!... A series of heavy impacts rang out. Karen finally realized that, without making a sound, he had been sealed inside a cylindrical "isolated" space. The barrier was remarkably thick; even the relentless, ferocious battering of the chains of Order under his control failed to shake it in the slightest. Purr, Alfred, and the others were right across on the beach. Karen abandoned all reservations and, willing to risk exposure, clenched his fist. A dense surge of the Fire of Light blazed to life, sweeping outward to engulf his surroundings, yet the Fire of Light was equally futile against this cylindrical enclosure. "Dammit!" Karen felt like an ant trapped beneath an upturned glass, utterly unable to break free. Or rather, with his current level of strength, he was simply incapable of shattering this dome. Even if the Sword of Arius had been in his hands, it likely wouldn't have made much difference. The hardness of this enclosure was downright despair-inducing. Yet the strange thing was that this dome seemed to exist merely to trap him, not to harm him. He had been enclosed for this long, yet no subsequent offensive followed. Under normal circumstances, one would first restrict the target's movement and then follow up with an attack to finish the job easily—like binding someone and pressing them onto a stone slab. Why hadn't the blade fallen yet? Karen looked up once more. The moon overhead remained a crimson hue. Suddenly, an inkling dawned on him. *Could it be...* ... On the beach, the group was still playing their game. Ansi had been unwilling to join at first, but with too few players, she had been coerced into taking part. Suffering defeat, losing all her subordinates, and surviving on her own was hardly something to be cheerful about. Under Mota's persuasion, however, she had managed to regain her composure. After all, although the Church of the Moon God had been routed in this campaign—and routed miserably, perhaps even losing the Mipos Archipelago to Samsara—Samsara lacked the strength to sustain a prolonged offensive. The Church of the Moon God had merely lost a local conflict, which would not truly shake the church's foundation. Her mission was to protect the observation delegation. While it currently looked more like the delegation was protecting her, so long as she escorted them back safely, her mission would be deemed a success. The defeat was not her doing, whereas the mission would genuinely be accomplished. Therefore, her sour mood could be set aside for now. Mota, meanwhile, was deliberately livening up the atmosphere. He had weighed two considerations: Under these circumstances, did the church hierarchy prefer the observation delegation to perish in the war, or did they want them to return alive? If they died, it could be used for propaganda to drag Order onto their side. The problem was that among this group, he was the weaker party, which meant he could disregard that angle entirely. His only choice was to accompany the delegation back and use that apparent merit to wash away the shadow this defeat cast over his prospects. He had no other alternative. Consequently, the two priests of the Church of the Moon God were acting quite animated. Far from the conventional expectation of sighing in gloom, they threw themselves eagerly into the game. In fact, they were even more willing than the others to hype up the mood. Acting as the moderator, Kevin suddenly looked around in confusion. It first glanced at Karen sitting in the distance, finding nothing unusual. Yet as it lowered its head to continue running the game, it looked back toward Karen once more. It stood up, sensing that something was wrong. "Woof! Woof woof!!" *(Daybreak! Open your eyes!)* Yet everyone kept their eyes shut, as if still waiting for dawn. "Woof! Woof woof!!" *(Daybreak! Open your eyes!)* No one paid it any mind; they all kept their eyes closed. Kevin began pacing in circles on the spot, thoroughly agitated. It stopped, raised its head, and looked up at the sky. The moon was still the moon, but when it narrowed its canine eyes, it picked up on something unnatural. The players kept their eyes shut, waiting for the moderator Kevin to call "Open your eyes," but the prompt never came. Purr urged, "Kevin, did you fall asleep?" Receiving no answer, everyone opened their eyes one after another, only to see the large golden retriever sitting in the center with its head hanging low, motionless. Mota remarked, "Looks like he really did doze off." Purr and Alfred rose to their feet immediately, closely followed by Ventura and Muri. They all knew who truly resided beneath the guise of the golden retriever, and such a bizarre reaction from it undoubtedly heralded an emergency. "Young Master!" Alfred scooped up Purr first and called out to Karen, but Karen remained sitting there without moving an inch. "On guard!" Muri ordered at once. "Get to the Captain!" Everyone stood up and rushed toward Karen, Ventura scooping up Kevin to carry him along. In truth, this was not a prudent command. When an anomaly occurred, taking defensive positions where they stood was the correct response. Yet Muri had no second thought; in his heart, Karen's safety took the highest priority. Right at that moment, Ansi suddenly let out a shrill scream, retreating frantically as if trying to evade something. Her hands flailed blindly in front of her, as though an unseen entity were clutching her throat. Everything happened far too quickly for the others to react. Ansi was hoisted straight into the air. She was a Moon God warrior, yet in this moment she was as frail and helpless as a quail. "Sssssssss!" A grating, slurping sound rang out. Blood eerily seeped from Ansi's flesh. "By the Moon God..." Ansi attempted to rally her power to fight back, but the moment a crescent insignia appeared between her brows, it shattered into glistening specks and was drawn into the empty space before her. "Slurp!" Like the hollow sound of drinking the last dregs through a straw, Ansi's body withered into a desiccated husk in an instant. Crack! She fell to the ground. Upon impact, her body fractured and crumbled straight into ash, like an undisturbed length of ash on a burnt cigarette that retained its shape only until the slightest touch shattered it completely. Purr's eyes went wide. It recognized what this was—a sacrificial rite! This entire island was very likely an enormous altar! Standing upon the island, one would never notice anything amiss, just as a flea could hardly discern the full form of its host. Oh, heavens above, meow! What kind of island did I pick?! Ansi's sudden ambush and rapid annihilation forced Muri to order an immediate defensive perimeter on the spot. Following team convention, Memphis, Mars, Ashley, and Blanche stayed on the inside, while the rest formed the outer defensive ring. Yet just as the perimeter was established and Memphis and Mars were setting up an array together, a second anomaly struck. Mota, who had been trying to duck into the inner circle, was suddenly yanked into the air as though dragged by an invisible hand, hurtling backward. Muri, Philomena, and Bart dashed forward at once to rescue him. Regardless of anything else, in the face of an unknown threat, Mota was on their side. Purr, however, shouted directly, "Leave him! Fall back!" Alfred frowned slightly. Though he didn't understand why, he trusted the cat implicitly and echoed the call immediately: "Fall back, Muri!" Muri paused for a split second before raising his hand. Beside him, Philomena and Bart halted in their tracks as well. Purr analyzed swiftly, "First Ansi, now Mota—both are from the Church of the Moon God! We're betting on that!" Mota stretched out his arms in a desperate plea for rescue, but his body was slammed violently to the earth. In an instant, beams of radiance erupted from him, likely defensive sacred artifacts activating. Without exception, however, these beams scattered and vanished the moment they burst forth, resembling nothing more than fleeting fireworks. "Aaaaargh!" This was an utter crushing on a power level... no, a crushing of sequence itself. Individual resistance was rendered utterly meaningless. Purr turned once more toward Kevin in Ventura's arms. You could kick this stupid dog, bash it, burn it, or bury it, but rendering it unconscious meant that this island-sized altar very likely contained the handiwork of a "god." Only a god could exert such influence over Raniedal on a soul level. Purr couldn't fathom it. In the past, when it led its adventuring party, finding an "interesting" place was exceedingly difficult, and they returned empty-handed countless times. Now, returning to its old trade just to find a rest stop, how on earth had they landed on this island? No, it wasn't my fault. Purr was certain its choice hadn't been flawed. Other factors must have triggered this outcome, though Purr couldn't name what they were. For now, all it could hope was that once Mota died, that unseen, intangible entity would not continue. Mota met the exact same fate as Ansi. One could see that he was stronger than her, possessed more trump cards, and held higher rank, but that only bought him a few moments longer than her. Then, the young barefoot bald man also crumbled into a heap of ash. "Hsss..." The sound of an inhale. "Mmh..." The sound of swallowing. "Ah..." The sound of deep satisfaction. These sounds were so crisp and clear, falling upon everyone's ears like a demon finishing a hearty feast. Next, everyone instinctively glanced at their neighbors. With two people already reduced to ash, everyone assumed a third victim was inevitable. Yet they waited one moment, then another, and another... No third person was dragged away. Just then, the group noticed that the Captain, who had been sitting over there, had shifted his posture. He was now standing upright, gazing in their direction. Alfred activated his Succubus Eye and said at once, "The Young Master isn't looking at us. There's someone standing between us and him." "Go help—" Before Muri could finish his sentence, he saw Karen raise a hand in a gesture that meant to halt. Purr spoke up: "The sacrifice is over." ... At that moment, standing before Karen was a woman dressed in crimson, her face completely concealed behind a veil of hair. She raised her left arm and slowly extended her open palm toward Karen. Her hand was neither pale nor tender, but rough and covered in scars, evoking the texture of antique furniture buried deep underground. Karen forced himself to take steady, deep breaths. Though still trapped inside this enclosure, from his perspective he had clearly seen this woman in red slaughter and consume Ansi and Mota as effortlessly as culling chicks. Ansi was no match for him; Karen knew that well. Mota's background was rather mysterious, and Karen had no absolute certainty of victory against him—a battle between them would likely have ended in a stalemate. Yet before this woman, neither had possessed the slightest ability or opportunity to resist, suffering complete and utter subjugation. Now, with this woman standing right before him, Karen felt his very bones groaning under terrifying pressure, as though gravity around him had multiplied several times over. Yet she had launched no attack against him. There was not only an absence of killing intent, but not even a shred of malice... Karen even had the distinct impression that if there was any expression beneath that curtain of hair, she was "smiling" at him. As for the pressure, it felt more like an inherent aura—an innate suppression she naturally exerted the moment one drew near, even without any conscious intent. It was not at the soul level, but at the physical level. "Ah..." A soft murmur slipped from the woman—a gentle urge. Looking at the open palm extended before him, Karen raised his own hand, gritted his teeth, and placed it upon hers. He had already been guessing: this dome was not meant to trap him... it was likely meant to protect him. Since he could not break the enclosure from within, it followed that outsiders could not breach it to harm him either. This was a protective measure present from the very start. Yet Karen did not believe this was tailored specifically for him. All of this had to follow an objective pattern—it had been pre-designed. This current situation was most likely brought about because certain triggering conditions had been fulfilled. One of those conditions lay within himself; otherwise, there was no explaining why he alone had been "protected." As for the other condition, Karen had initially been unsure, but after watching the woman in red slay Ansi, then Mota, and then halt before appearing in front of him, he surmised it had to do with the Church of the Moon God. These two conditions brought to mind the passage from the book he had read earlier, where the protagonist arrived on an island devoted to the Moon God, only for the inhabitants to plot his murder. Karen had previously suspected that the protagonist's misunderstanding stemmed from confusing worship of another lunar deity with that of the Moon God Artemis. From the perspective of Moon God believers, their Moon God was a primary deity and naturally supreme within the lunar pantheon, making such a misunderstanding entirely understandable. Had the protagonist in the book arrived at an island just like this one? This island would slaughter believers of the Church of the Moon God, consume them, and then... Then Karen felt a warm current seep from his palm. More precisely, it welled from the woman's palm, tracing along his hand and wrist before spreading throughout his entire body. Finally, this power consciously gathered toward his eyes. The Eyes of the Dark Moon were thoroughly ignited and revealed, though because Karen's Eyes of the Dark Moon had undergone an Order transformation, his subordinates only saw a profound, swirling darkness within their Captain's gaze. Yet one thing was unmistakably clear: a sudden surge of power had descended from thin air, swirling around their Captain before being absorbed into him. Although no one else could see the figure of the woman in red, none of them were fools. Two people had just been drained into ash over here, and over there, their Captain was absorbing power... Where could that power have possibly come from? Karen felt a refreshing coolness in his eyes, as though a previously imperceptible restraint had been unlocked. He was not a genuine Dark Moon believer after all. Ever since his abilities had undergone Order transformation, everything outside the path of Order had essentially become mere ornamental accessories. This was not out of negligence or sloth on Karen's part; advancing them was simply far too difficult, to the point where there was virtually no path forward. Now, that path had presented itself. Infused with this power, the Eyes of the Dark Moon underwent an elevation. His vision no longer seemed to merely receive the reflection of light, but had gained new dimensions. Though he was merely standing in place, his field of view felt as if he were perched on high, looking down over everything. Moreover, it felt as though he could slow down the flow of movement if he chose—an ability that would prove immensely useful in future combat. At long last, the transmission concluded. The woman in red drifted back toward the forest, and Karen sensed that the enclosure trapping him had vanished as well. This place was a sacrificial ground—or rather, a slaughterhouse. Bring priests of the Church of the Moon God here as offerings, have a Dark Moon believer trigger the mechanism, and this woman would manifest once the conditions were met, consuming the power of the Moon God believers to nourish the Dark Moon devotee. He just so happened to possess the Eyes of the Dark Moon, and his squad just so happened to include two Moon God priests. Thus... Karen closed his eyes, reopened them slowly, and took a step toward the group, summoning the Sword of Arius into his hand along the way. Ashley patted her chest, let out a long breath of relief, and smiled. "So the Captain had all of this arranged from the start—bringing those two here just to swallow them up." Memphis said, "Those two died on the battlefield. We never saw them." Mars nodded. "Right. Whose ashes are these, anyway?" Ventura chimed in, "The ground got dirty. I'll sweep it up in a bit." Purr: "Huh?" Karen wanted to explain, yet had no idea where to begin. After all, his own cat had chosen the island, and he was the one who had devoured the power. Right then, Kevin seemed to "wake up," barking excitedly: "Woof! Woof! Woof!" Alfred frowned slightly in bewilderment, because what he heard Kevin barking was: *Bone! Bone! Bone!* Kevin paused, then barked once more: "Woof!" Alfred's eyes lit up instantly! Bone of a God!