Tianjin people will never lose SAN

Chapter 414 The Second Gate without Source

"Mr. Saint Baran, first you have to follow me closely."

Even though the patron saint was there to support him, Bill still didn't dare to be negligent. He gritted his teeth and led the way in front. This kind of job was the most difficult. There was nothing to boast about if you did your job well, but if you didn't, it would be a disgrace to you, and you wouldn't be able to hold your head up in the Inquisition or even in the Holy See.

So Bill was very alert and explained while leading the way:
"Everyone, the first problem you encounter in this dreamland is getting lost. No one can climb over the high walls around it, even with forbidden spells.

What appears to be in front of us is a straight corridor with only two directions to go, but every once in a while, the layout of the maze changes.

We must not be too far apart. If we get separated in the maze, the consequences will be very serious."

"Bill, let me ask you something. Since Contaldo can activate the Dreamland, he must have signed a contract with the gods there. So what special ability did he get?"

In fact, Liu Yonglu was not as relaxed as he looked. The dream realm was difficult to deal with, and he was afraid that Contardo would do something weird again.

“I don’t know. I just learned that this ancient relic is in the possession of Bishop Contaldo.

In our court’s opinion, the possibility of ordinary people mastering this ancient relic is almost zero…”

Before Bill finished speaking, everyone felt the ground beneath their feet shaking violently, and the snow on the high rock walls on both sides fell down.

White snow fog filled the field of vision, and visibility around suddenly dropped to the minimum.

The three bishops and four inquisitors no longer cared about their identities at this time, and stretched out their hands to grab the shoulders of the people nearby, so as to ensure their balance and ensure that they would not get separated.

The shaking lasted for a full five minutes before it slowly stopped. When everyone turned their eyes forward again, they found an astonishing scene!
The straight corridor disappeared, replaced by a five-way intersection. At the intersection was an open space the size of a tennis court, on which were scattered frozen corpse specimens and skeletons.

They were arranged in a circular formation in an eerily neat manner. Each frozen corpse maintained the same posture, kneeling on both knees, head tilted back to an extremely unnatural angle, mouth corners pulled open, as if using shouting to release the intracranial pressure.

Their arms are stretched out, their fingertips touching, forming closed circles, and the space within the circles seems to be the focus of a silent ceremony.

In the center of the ring lay a huge spliced ​​skeleton. Bill and Jacob felt it looked familiar, and after a little recollection they remembered the tragic death of Bishop Jone.

It turns out that the Sahagun sect referred to the sacrificial scene in this dreamland, and Bishop Contaldo was the core figure of the Sahagun sect!

The surface of the ritual corpses was covered with a layer of light blue frost, making each frozen corpse look like an exquisite work of art, but discordant black mucus overflowed from the joints of these corpses.

Although the frozen corpses of different creatures vary in size, the black mucus has cleverly left spider-web-like marks on the ice, and these marks are by no means random.

They extended along the circular array, eventually converging into a regular pattern that was daunting to look at.

The black slime transformed the creatures into corpses on the ice field. They seemed to be making a silent announcement through the patterns before their eyes, that these pure blacks were trying to reproduce some kind of overwhelming order.

"Your Excellency Kosander, fellow bishops, seeing this pattern means that we will hear the whispers of the gods in a moment."

Bill took out a napkin from his pocket, made earplugs out of it and handed it over. Faced with the obscure and distorted sounds in the dreamland, physically covering the ears would not have much effect. If one wanted to get through it safely, he still had to rely on forbidden spells or his own strong willpower.

Of course, the most important thing is to rely on the power of Saint Barlaan.

Saint Baran... Bill glanced at Liu Yonglu, who looked like nothing had happened. He was smoking a cigarette while weighing the small black stone in his hand.

Bill didn't know that the first thing Liu Yonglu had to deal with since he was born was the whispering of gods, and he was most experienced in dealing with this kind of things.

Toad had read scriptures to him, and the King in Yellow had performed for him. It could be said that Liu Yonglu could have written a book on literature on the accents and idioms of the gods in the entire Western Continent. "Bill, the gods' mumbling is nothing. I'll show you the treasures passed down by the Saint Lady later."

As he spoke, the intermittent and rapid throat sounds came from all directions:

"Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!"

The tone was low and depressed, mixed with a sickening tremor, as if it carried some kind of longing, as if in this icy place, behind the endless high walls there existed some strange life form.

They long to do something, to fill the meaning for which they were created, and when the intruders cannot provide this they have no value.

Bill didn't have time to cast the forbidden spell. In fact, even the Inquisition couldn't come up with any practical solution when faced with the mumbling in this dreamland.

The inquisitors and bishops could only cover their ears with clothes and press their temples frantically with their palms, but the effect was not very significant.

Under the pressure of the voice, even though he was silently reciting the Holy Virgin's Canon, Bill already felt that his individuality was being slowly taken away. As the presiding judge of the tribunal, he also rarely realized his own insignificance and helplessness.

This is not just pure fear, but more like the mysterious creature in the dream world questioning the meaning of its existence.

In this windowless fifth-dimensional entity, in this ancient lighthouse to which the Stairway to the Moon leads, what is the meaning of humanity's so-called progress and determination?

Bill gradually found it difficult to tell whether the urgent questioning echoing in his ears had a definite source, or was just an extension of his own soul's voice.

"The saint was strolling out to the west of the city and saw... others were riding horses while I was riding a donkey.

I turned my head and looked back to see a non-believer, who was not as good as the best but better than the worst. The fire in the copper pot was boiling up and down, who was the one who was poor and nine out of ten was rich..."

Just as everyone present was falling into confusion and madness under the cheers, the lyrics of Saint Balan's "Peace" poured into everyone's hearts like a pot of clear spring water.

Why did Liu Yonglu wait so long to sing? Because he felt that the whispers coming from behind the high wall sounded familiar!

That's right, he had definitely heard this voice somewhere before, and not just once or twice. It should be someone he knew, but who was it...

Liu Yonglu was sucking his teeth as he thought about this matter.

After rolling his eyes a few times and still unable to make out the right one, he finally assumed a stance, clapping his hands to the beat of his own accord and began to perform.

Everyone present knew this section of "The Saint's Advice", but knowing is one thing and being able to sing is another. At this time, Liu Yonglu starting from the beginning was equivalent to singing the original song in a KTV.

The three bishops and several judges followed Liu Yonglu's whispering and gradually got rid of the irritating and disgusting mood.

"Who is it... It's right next to my mouth... It looks similar, but there's something a little different..."

The sound of "Tekeli-li! Tekeli-li!" has gradually slowed down, but Liu Yonglu is still muttering in a low voice with a frown on his face. This feeling is the most unbearable for him. He hurried forward to see who is chanting the Three Yins with me.

Although Bill and his people were exhausted by the god's mumbling, their faith was re-encouraged by the "Saint's Advice". As long as Saint Balaam was there, they would be able to get out of the dream.

After walking for another ten minutes, during which the maze changed twice, everyone finally arrived in front of a tall door.

The door, from a distance, looked like a mysterious barrier carved out of black rock. It stood there silently, with some unrecognizable reliefs engraved on its surface. These tortuous and complex lines revealed a sense of familiarity in the eyes of the Saint's people, making them think of the Gate of No Source for no reason.

(End of this chapter)