The cloth doll turned its lifeless eyes before its body stood up straight. It looked towards the area that the crimson moonlight failed to illuminate. There, the man with the lumpy cheek and the other cultists had been standing quietly, but at this moment, they bowed their heads, raising their arms as though they were praying, piously listening to the "revelation."
About two to three seconds later, the cloth doll finally stood up straight. Just as it was about to open its tongueless mouth and produce a voice that didn't belong to the "body" it was in, all its movements suddenly turned sluggish, as though it was a highly-rusted robot.
Hidden amongst the cultists, Klein had seen a strange spirituality thread extend from the cloth doll. Without any hesitation, he began controlling it!
Inside the wall lamp-illuminated room, the lights dimmed instantly. The doll with curved eyes and mouth instantly lost the support that seemed to arise from having a skeleton before slumping to the table, motionless.
Amidst the flickering street lights that were more than a thousand meters away, Klein lost control over the blob of Spirit Body Threads. The power that descended with the help of the doll took less than two seconds to escape out of his range!
Whoosh!
A biting-cold wind swept up inside the room as the rug with tables and chairs above was suddenly tugged, sending the man with the lumpy cheek and most of the other cultists tumbling. Only the disguised Klein had jumped up in time to avoid the accident.
Of course, Winner Enzo stood perfectly fine at the border of the rug, completely unaffected.
Whoosh!
Amidst the cold wind, the rug rolled up and bound the few cultists and covered their noses and mouth tightly, gripping their throats.
Meanwhile, the fountain pens on the table had their caps removed autonomously before shooting forward, stabbing into the neck of the man with the lumpy cheek. They left no gaps in the dense array of pens.
A wooden chair exploded as its splinters swept over without sparing any of the remaining cultists.
Near the wall, the pipe of a wall lamp cracked, causing the gas inside to whistle out.
The cloth that draped the sofa rose up, tied itself into a robe, and wrapped around the train conductor's throat. A few of the floor tiles flew up, stabbing a few cultists from below.
Instantly, all the items in the room were filled with offensive capability as though they were attempting to kill all signs of life inside.
Klein tried to dodge, but his shirt, pants, belt, coat, and hat seemed to have a life of their own. They forcefully locked him down on the spot.
He hurriedly opened his mouth and let out a sound: "Pa!"
He had mimicked the sound of snapping fingers.
Scarlet flames surged out from his clothes, instantly blanketing his body and removing the restraints
At this moment, the cloth on another sofa rose up as though it was draped over someone.
This strange scene reflected in Klein's eyes immediately as he trembled and turned stiff. He had been possessed by an evil spirit!
The flames that soared up from before hadn't extinguished. They were burning away his clothes and flesh, only to reduce him to a pitch-black paper figurine.
Behind this paper figurine was a pattern covered with feathers. It was a surreal and illusory feeling.
This was the mutated paper figurine that had been tainted with Artificial Death's aura!
Klein knew that there were only two situations that were possible for the doll to mutate. One was that the entity disguising as a god was nearby and had sensed the deaths of the cultists; hence, preparations were made via a deliberate descent, laying a trap for the antagonist. Another was that the one using the doll was indeed some secret existence. "He" wasn't aware that the sacrificial ritual had been foiled and descended at the predetermined time to give the next round of "revelations."
And regardless of which situation it was, it meant danger. Therefore, how could Klein perform unprepared?
Based on the characteristics of a descent or the possession of the doll, he had already placed the paper figurine, which had mutated because of the corruption of Artificial Death's aura, in the iron cigar case. He had also maintained the level of his marionette at the level of an ordinary person in order to lure the target into possessing him!
At this point, the possession target of the "god" that the cultists worshiped had gone from Klein to the Death Paper Figurine! As the scarlet flames swept about, the pitch-black paper figurine ignited as a pale-white color spread abruptly, tinged with a slightly dark green color.
A rather painful grunt sounded as a transparent afterimage flashed across a window tinted with the crimson moonlight.
Almost at the same instant, the items that came "alive" inside the room fell to the ground, returning to their lifeless state. As for Enzo, flames were swirling around him.
At this moment, in the port city north of the Southern Continent, the residents were enjoying the comfort and warmth of their home and family at night. They didn't notice that their glass windows and the surfaces of the wall lamps would dim before quickly returning to normal.
Alongside this dimming environment, the flames in the fireplace either intensified or dwindled. The remnants in the kitchen were ignited and snuffed out.
During this process, the glass windows in that room dimmed the most, and the fluctuations in the flames kept happening. However, the believers in the room were praying to the Primordial Moon, paying no notice to what was happening.
After an unknown period of time, the crimson moonlight brightened a little, as though covering the entire city in a light veil.
Such brightness quickly returned to normal as a scarlet red flame flared up on a silver candle on a dining table.
Enzo walked out of it as his body and face rapidly changed into Gehrman Sparrow.
Just moments ago, at the instant when the crimson moon brightened, he had lost his target.
Not only possessing the Beyonder powers of a High-Sequence Beyonder of the Wraith pathway, but they can also borrow the power of the crimson moon... Regarding these two aspects, one of them is only possible with a Sealed Artifact or mystical item... Klein muttered silently and came to a preliminary judgment.
After the demigod who possessed the doll had been corrupted by the Death Paper Figurine, he had believed that he had the chance to take his opponent down. To his surprise, the enemy's strength and means available to them were more varied and potent than he imagined.
The only thing he could confirm was that it wasn't an angel, as the strength and level were far inferior to one.
Just as this thought flashed through his mind, Klein left the dining room and entered the activity room. There were a few believers praying to the Primordial Moon.
Unlike the cultists on the steam locomotive, they knew who they were praying to, as though they were more formal members of the parish.
One step. Two steps. Three steps. Klein entered the room in an unhurried pace before they turned their heads when they noticed him.
With the powerful illusion power of a Bizarro Sorcerer, they treated Gehrman Sparrow as an oracle that had descended upon them. They saw a bright moon halo at his head.
The believers plopped to their knees in devout prostration.
Klein didn't beat about the bush as he asked in a deep voice, "Who was the saint you met previously?"
Although one of the believers was puzzled, he still respectfully answered, "Oracle, it was Shaman King Klarman."
Shaman King Klarman... That's a familiar name... Ah right, the author of that Book of Secrets... Isn't he long dead? He was alive in a time over a millennium ago. Saints of non-special pathways have no way of living that long... He joined the Rose School of Thought but still believes in the Primordial Moon. Through some means, he has extended his life? Or could it be that his Sequence alone affords him a long life? Klein's mind whirred and recalled the origins of the name "Klarman."
A sailboat was docked by the pier as the faint moonlight illuminated the cabin's interior.
A figure with frizzled black hair with white streaks in them walked out of a mirror. He wore a back robe with crimson patterns. He had wrinkles that were neither too deep or shallow on his face. His eyes were bloodshot.
At this moment, on the skin he exposed, such as the back of his hand, his pores had expanded, producing white feathers that were stained with pale yellow oil.
This elder's expression was somewhat warped as if he was enduring pain.
He quickly sat on the bedside, bowed his head, clasped his hands, and silently chanted.
In his jarring voice, his forehead slowly cracked apart, revealing a red full moon that seemed to be embedded in it!
The moonlight dispersed and cloaked the elder, causing the white feathers on him to contract and recede into nothingness.
But at this moment, his abdomen bloated up as though it was filled with liquid.
Finally, his clothes, together with his skin, tore apart as a blob of flesh and blood covered in white feathers flew out onto the deck. After squirming for quite a while, it rotted and died.
Phew... The elder looked up and slowly exhaled. His bloodshot eyes were filled with puzzlement.
He muttered softly, "Death's Blessed?
"But Death is no more..."
Early in the morning, the Church of Storms's Mandated Punishers, who had taken over the case of the mysterious deaths of the steam locomotive's staff, had received new intelligence.
The missing conductor and driver, as well as a few suspicious passengers, had been found!
Before long, this Mandated Punisher team followed the clues and found their targets.
They were silently hung outside a building in a row.
"This is a provocation!" The Mandated Punisher's captain growled through clenched teeth.
But after they lowered the corpses and carried out their investigations inside the room, they saw that these people had been piously praying to the Primordial Moon in the activity room, holding a rather diabolical ritual.
"...Apprehend all of them!" The Mandated Punisher captain issued a command after a second of surprise.
The believers of the Primordial Moon seemed to regain their reason as they tried to resist. However, they were quickly suppressed, either dying or being injured in the process.
The Mandated Punisher captain surveyed the area and inexplicably said to his peers, "They didn't notice the row of corpses hanging at their doorstep?"
A member of the Reader pathway thought and said, "Those corpses might've been left there to guide us to investigate the area."
The Mandated Punisher captain calmed himself down and nodded in thought, "Which Church's demigod passed by?"
