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0.48% From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty / Chapter 3: Chapter 2 Judgment

Chapitre 3: Chapter 2 Judgment

The evil cultists outside the cabin remained blissfully unaware of everything, completely blind to the white light in the sky.

All the cultists, except for the elder priest, burst into hideous laughter, sneering disdainfully at Irene's recent prayer.

The leading elder priest shook his head calmly, not joining in the mockery of the girl; instead, there was a trace of faint, barely perceptible pity.

The expressionless old man in the black rainy night was exceedingly terrifying.

His tone was cold and cruel, as if he was narrating the laws of the world's workings.

"You descendants of swineherds who live by fishing, you are, without a doubt, the lowest fodder of a cruel world, your souls are born worthless, and because of that, no deity will ever protect you."

"Since you have no refuge, you might as well become a sacrifice to satisfy my Lord's appetite."

Karl's invisible will projected the white light from the sky onto the lead priest, who immediately became exceedingly dazzling in the pitch-black rainy night.

It's decided, it's you!

"Boom!"

Out of nowhere, a thunderbolt fell in the stormy night, like the white blade in the hands of a thunder god, tearing through the sky like a dancing silver serpent, shattering the darkness, and striking the priest squarely!

A dazzling flash of white light passed, and the elderly priest was completely reduced to hot, pitch-black char, without a single uncharred part left.

The other cultists were all stunned.

Irene was slack-jawed, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Karl was somewhat surprised, having never expected the white light to also be capable of summoning thunder from the heavens.

The girl's lifespan could indeed serve as a "weapon"; it just worked differently from what he had imagined.

Irene, having lost a portion of the white light, did not die or age; only faint silver strands began to appear in her once pitch-black, silky hair.

Irene stared blankly at this scene, tears on her cheeks continuously mixing with the rain, her eyes filled with disbelief.

"What just happened?"

The cultists were terrified upon seeing that the Great Priest had not been blessed by the Mighty Bloody Demon but rather suddenly killed by lightning, and they all felt a strong sense of ill omen.

"Mighty Bloody Demon, please protect us!"

The four cultists who were kneeling on the ground began to plead loudly.

Already full of blind devotion in their minds, they completely believed that the forces of nature represented the retribution of some mysterious existence.

Believing that completely eradicating the threat was the only way to avoid greater danger, and having ascertained that the girl could bear the loss of some of her lifespan, Karl didn't hesitate to draw more white light to form new "weapons."

The invisible blades of judgment marked each cultist one by one, emanating a white light that only he and Irene could see.

"Ah!"

The second cultist wasn't struck by lightning but suddenly burst into raging flames, screaming and writhing, frantically spinning and jumping, yet the fire could not be extinguished even in the pouring rain, and he gradually died in extreme agony.

The remaining cultists were practically insane, knowing this could not be some baseless, accidental mishap but the intervention of some powerful, mysterious force!

"Great Mighty Bloody Demon, someone is killing your followers, please save us!"

The third cultist screamed frantically, suddenly bulging his eyes, wailing and clutching at his face, trembling on his knees, unable to struggle for breath, as if drowning.

Under the terrified gazes of the others, he drowned in the water that emerged from nowhere in his lungs, even as the downpour battered him.

So that was it; the "weapon" was actually a curse that caused unexpected death, Karl finally understood.

The extracted white light was also the lifespan of the prayer, which could then mark individuals and curse them with a mysterious force to die of "sudden accidents."

The fourth cultist, the fifth cultist—they begged in vain for forgiveness from the mysterious entity lurking in the shadows, but still couldn't escape the fate of death.

One died suddenly from an acute illness, asphyxiating, and the last also drowned.

Irene, frozen like a statue, couldn't speak for a long time; her dark, damp hair was now studded with a striking twenty percent white.

After a few maneuvers, Karl too felt a wave of spiritual fatigue, with a significant amount of spiritual power drained from his soul.

Intuition told him it would take at least thirty years to recover naturally, an exasperatingly long time.

"It seems my abilities cannot be expended endlessly, but are limited by 'mana.' Alas, alas, such a minor cheat doesn't really count as cheating!"

If he were to forcefully use his power again, his depleted spirituality would plunge him back into the murky darkness where clarity was lost.

And to permanently increase the upper limit of his spiritual power's "mana," it was clear he had to devour more mysterious rare artifacts.

Karl pondered deeply; in the future, he definitively needed to find a way to acquire more mysterious artifacts and consume them voraciously!

In the midst of the downpour, Irene, covered in mud, slowly got up, staring blankly at the corpses strewn across the ground, her eyes completely vacant.

"What on earth happened…"

The girl had witnessed everything that had just occurred, and she knew these people had not died naturally.

The ghastly array of corpses did not instill fear in her; instead, Irene felt a profound reverence and gratitude towards the mysterious entity that had saved her and her brother!

She was just an ordinary girl living in the town, always having lived with her parents, poor but not feeling any pain.

But just over a month ago, her parents went out to sea to fish for a rare species of fish with a magic beast lineage, and they never returned. The acquaintances in town were all reluctant to mention anything about her parents' situation.

However, Irene was no longer a child, and she gradually understood that her parents would never be coming back.

Therefore, as the elder sister, she must protect her brother, and she vowed to take good care of Chris.

It was tough for Irene to raise her brother on her own, and she found it difficult to survive on her own, let alone take care of an infant in swaddling clothes.

Even with hard daily labor, the stingy adults in town were only willing to give a little bit of food, and Irene had to thank them profusely.

She went hungry day and night but always managed a smile, as everything would be worth it as long as her brother grew up safely.

But the events of this night were so ruthless and cruel; Irene suddenly realized how powerless she was in this dark and brutal world.

"Wah!"

The crying of her brother brought Irene back to her senses.

She quickly returned to the wooden hut with Chris, who was crying and soaking wet, hurriedly ignited a fire with the little dry wood they had in an attempt to warm up her drenched brother.

"Mm, mm, don't cry, don't cry," the soaked girl consoled her brother in her arms.

Outside the wooden hut, the storm raged as Irene knelt on the ground, her body small and huddled like a little animal's, sincerely asking.

"Who are you?"

In the depths of her heart, she knew that what had just happened was no coincidence; there must be some powerful and mysterious entity that had protected her and her brother from the shadows.

"Who are you, the one who saved us?"

As the girl murmured to herself, Karl suddenly felt a gap form deep inside her heart, vague yet genuinely existing.

He realized this might be an opportunity to communicate with someone and needed to seize the moment, picturing a part of his soul being injected into it.

The soul shard entered the girl's body through the gap in her heart and instantly flowed into her bloodstream.

Boom!

The whole fusion process was excruciating for Karl, with his consciousness nearly shattering and his soul itself wilting!

He was acutely aware that his current condition was terrible, at most only enough for one act of splitting his soul.

"Ah!"

Irene couldn't help but scream out in sudden agony.

In pain, she clutched the back of her left hand, where a distinct red mark had emerged on her pale skin, with a round base and a complex pattern of lines that was difficult to define.

Favored member.

The term surfaced suddenly from her memory, and Karl realized that his connection to the girl had become exceedingly close.

It seemed not just her but also the crying baby's chubby little hand bore a red imprint.

It wasn't just the two of them either; the entire Fischer family's bloodline descendants, whether ten generations or a hundred, were doomed to forever be favored members.

Karl knew from memory one significant fact: the souls of favored members would return to him after death, and the ultimate fate of a lifetime of work was to return after death.

The spirituality they carried would also turn into nourishment to strengthen his own soul, just like those mysterious rare artifacts, except that digesting spirituality wouldn't harm the essence of the favored members' souls.

"What is this thing on the back of my hand, this red pattern?"

After not receiving an answer for a long time and sweating from the pain, Irene carefully continued to inquire.

"Could you be some great deity?"

He suddenly found that he could speak in the depths of Irene's heart; no, it was still different, closer to conveying thoughts and ideas than actually producing a human voice.

Karl considered the "deity" concept; it was far too remote. In fact, he was merely a fragmented soul, even trapped inside a small bottle, unable to move.

But if he merely claimed to be a passing remnant soul or some terrifying entity like a devil, it's likely no human would be willing to sincerely communicate.

Karl pondered in silence and decisively fabricated an identity that seemed mighty and awe-inspiring.

[I am the Lord of the Lost, also the god who is destined to revive.]

[You will contribute to the great cause, offering a portion of your strength.]


Chapitre 4: Chapter 3 Grace

Raindrops hit the wooden hut with a dull sound, seemingly telling the world of nature's infinite might on display.

Without sorrow or joy, filled with ancient power and dreadful majesty, the message conveyed to the kneeling girl's mind!

It was not a language or script belonging to humans, devoid of any common emotions, the inexplicable stream of information rearranged itself into a meaning her barren mind could comprehend.

A deity!

Irene was astonished, never having imagined that the source of the voice was truly a god from the myths and legends!

Surrounding the East Coast, there were many legends about the Sea God, and the priests from the Tempest Church considered It to be a manifestation of the Tempest Overlord, worshipped by countless sailors and fishermen.

She was aware that the gods from the myths often had unpredictable moods, sometimes saving people and other times capable of destroying everything.

She must repay this deity well, partly out of gratitude and also to not bring disaster upon this town!

"Great deity, thank you for saving us, I... I have no way to repay you, but I will do my best, whatever you ask I will try to fulfill,"

Irene responded cautiously, fearful of upsetting this mysterious deity.

Karl suddenly realized that conveying thoughts also consumed a tiny amount of Spiritual Power, and it seemed that each communication should be treasured.

He decided not to use real language for communication, only to send commands containing the most basic meanings, as his already limited Spiritual Power was best conserved when possible.

Commands devoid of human emotion, incomprehensible yet understandable, emerged abruptly in the depths of the girl's heart.

She understood immediately!

"Great presence, do you need the power contained in that amulet? Do you wish for me to retrieve that transparent bottle first?"

Irene nodded repeatedly and rose to her feet, running outside the hut, braving nausea to retrieve a purple, finger-shaped amulet from the charred corpse of the priest, its blackened flesh sticky and revolting to the eyes.

Karl had long sensed the Spiritual Power contained within it, his inner depths stirring with longing, as if faced with a delicious dessert.

Kneeling in front of the transparent bottle, Irene's hands trembled as she held up the finger-shaped purple amulet, her voice unclear from fear as she presented it.

"Great Lord of the Lost, I, I offer it to you."

The next moment, the Spiritual Power contained within the finger amulet raced towards Karl's soul inside the bottle.

He suddenly found that after awakening from the darkness, his efficiency in devouring spirituality had significantly improved.

Yet the amulet's spiritual content was far too insignificant compared to the bottle, so Karl quickly consumed it completely.

If Karl's fragmented soul originally had a spiritual capacity limit of ten, after devouring the spirituality within the bottle, this became thirty, and after completely absorbing the amulet, the limit merely rose to thirty-two.

His spirituality, nearly exhausted due to casting the "Curse," consequently recovered close to one-tenth.

"Huh?"

Irene observed, astonished, as the purple finger withered visibly before turning into black ashes and dissipating.

Yet another miraculous scene!

It was as though the great deity had devoured it!

"Are you satisfied?" Irene asked, looking downward, while simultaneously checking her brother's condition.

Suddenly, she noticed that her brother's breathing was off, growing increasingly rapid.

"Chris!"

Quickly, Irene realized her brother had a fever!

However, in such torrential rain, it was difficult to find medicine, and for a child so young, the mortality rate was alarmingly high once they fell ill.

Irene, watching her brother's labored breathing, struggled within herself, in agonizing pain, and felt the urge to rush into the night rain toward town.

But now, the heavy rain made the roads slick and treacherous, and even if she could reach the town by night, she had no money to buy the expensive fever medicine.

In the town, patients unable to pay were common, and the doctors who had seen much of this were numb, so begging was also unlikely to procure the medicine; moreover, if she were to encounter an accident along the way, her brother would probably not survive.

"How could this happen?"

Wave after wave of crisis left Irene nearly on the verge of collapse, with tears of despair constantly streaming from her eyes.

That's right, there was one more thing she could try.

Only by continuing to plead with this deity might she be able to save her brother.

Tearfully, she knelt on the ground and prayed again to the mysterious being that saved her and her brother.

"Please save us, great Lord of the Lost, I will offer anything to you!"

"Great deity, please save my brother, I can't be without him!"

"He shall be saved."

The unemotional voice, like that of a deity from beyond this world, suddenly entered her mind, and Irene lifted her head in utter amazement.

A strong sense of fear surged within her, as the mysterious being appearing out of nowhere met her continuous wishes so easily, leaving her to wonder whether It was a benevolent deity or an extremely evil devil.

But whether deity or devil, as long as It could save her brother, she would offer anything to It!

Still with aching legs, Irene knelt down again, without any room to stand firm, and appealed to the mysterious voice.

"Please save my brother. As long as you don't harm my family, you can take anything from me!"

If life and soul could exchange for her family's survival, it was a worthy sacrifice. As long as her family could live healthily, it was already a blessing from fate!

As a former salesman, Karl had long since lost touch with awkwardness in communication, almost becoming a social phobia sufferer.

He knew best how to communicate, contact, and develop a series of skills and methods to generate trust with "customers."

"Customers" would never truly believe in any person, they only believed in what they desired in their expectations, utterly engrossed and even unable to extricate themselves.

The two people before him needed not power or dignity but merely the right to survive.

Thus, cooperation could be achieved between himself and them.

Karl's will, alien to humanity, once again emanated, filled with an awe-inspiring majesty that made one involuntarily want to worship.

A solemn will conveyed, and soon reformed into an understandable meaning, Irene was slightly startled, and then she understood that from the very beginning, she had to accept the fate that the mysterious existence was about to give.

Fate had revealed an undeniable corner, no matter whether the source of the voice was an evil devil or a great deity!

Karl could clearly feel that the grass runes in his soul possessed the "healing" characteristic, which might cure the disease afflicting the infant.

But how to wield this power was indeed a problem.

Impacting the outside world again would consume a large amount of his Spiritual Power, the meager remains of which were better reserved as a trump card.

Perhaps there was another way to proceed.

He could fully feel a strong connection with the girl, able to share the authority to activate that grass rune.

The next moment, Karl once again conveyed his will, commanding Irene to gaze at the transparent bottle not far away.

"What does that mean?"

At this point, Irene knew she could only fully trust the mysterious existence of the voice's source.

As she looked at the bottle on the wooden bed, she suddenly discovered a cross-shaped black light flickering dazzlingly in the middle of the old, transparent bottle.

The terrifying, twisting aura it emitted froze her completely!

When she stared at the black light, all the colors in the world seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving only the most basic black and white, the surrounding sounds were utterly extinguished, and all Spirituality and life seemed to be stripped to an unstrippable extent.

All things must come to an end, everything will be completely destroyed by Him, a thought of extreme terror emerged in Irene's mind simultaneously.

This is the might of a god!

How magnificent!

Irreverently awesome!

That is the great power of the Lord of the Lost!

Irene involuntarily trembled subconsciously, the light shadow of grass runes faintly emerging in her pupils.

Karl felt that Irene's soul already held the "Imprint of the Soul," sufficient to activate the magical power contained in the grass rune.

The act just now was akin to sharing some kind of administrative authority, yet for her pitifully small soul mass, bearing a single soul imprint was probably already the limit.

Irene's heart was extremely confused, and her body trembled slightly.

She suddenly discovered a warm power hidden deep within her heart, gentle enough to soothe any wound in the mundane world.

Without a doubt, that was the power bestowed by the great Lord of the Lost!

The wind howled past with the roar of thunder, rushing over from outside the wooden house, bringing rain that struck her fiercely, tearing at her clothes like blades, cold enough to make one shiver violently.

The light of the firewood was extinguished, and the drenched girl in the darkness couldn't help but feel lost.

She had no idea if that power could really save her brother's life, subconsciously praying to the gods and the vast heavens.

"Gods and fate above! Please, no matter what, do not take him away!"

In the storm, the girl roared defiantly at the sky, her face awash with tears.

But would the True Gods preached by the Church really pity the mortals?

If they were truly useful, wouldn't her mother and father have already returned?

The gods are useless!

A determination flashed in her eyes, and she changed her plea, shouting loudly:

"Great Lord of the Lost, please save him!"

Irene took a deep breath, turned to sit beside her brother, and slowly sat down, struggling to lift the infant's burning head.

"There, there, get well."

Inside, Irene felt a mix of desperate confusion and hope; the grass runes faintly visible in her pupils, her hands gradually emitting a vibrant green glow full of the breath of life.

The feverish infant, already unconscious, had a life so fragile and fleeting, but a gentle warm current began to flow gently into the child's body.

At this moment, Irene's heart was all on him, earnestly hoping her brother's little life would not fade away here, Great Lord of the Lost, please descend a miracle.

A miracle occurred!

As the gentle warm current flowed in, the infant's breathing stabilized, the intense heat of his body gradually subsided, and the pained expression on his face disappeared.

The infant still slept but was no longer feverish, and the disease that could have brought death instantly receded, the whole event being a miracle that occurred in the blink of an eye!

A look of great surprise appeared on Irene's face, success!

That power just now was the Divine Power granted by the Lord of the Lost!

How on earth should I repay Him!


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