Chapter 542: Chapter 275: Church, Backstab, and Momentum
Marcus had not attended school for many years. Most of his life was spent struggling in various dangerous places full of demons, so it was naturally impossible for him to have any aesthetic appreciation ability.
He only instinctively felt that the grand cathedral before him gave him an indescribable unique aesthetic sensation.
Unlike any cathedral he had seen before, the heaviness and decay that should not have appeared in such a place of divine worship now permeated every corner of his sight.
The dense fog persisted, and that towering spire, once a symbol of sanctity and a bridge to the Divine Country, had broken, leaving only jagged edges pointing awkwardly to the heavens, without a trace of redemption;
The heavy grey-black stone walls were covered in cracks, and withered, twisted black vines climbed like snakes along the walls, probing into the depths of the gaps as if trying to drag the cathedral into the abyss below;
The few surviving stained-glass windows now only had dim fragments left, whimpering in the wind like the eye sockets of a skull.
At the moment Marcus drew near to see the cathedral shrouded in mist, he involuntarily shivered for some reason.
"Captain, should we..."
In his ear came the probing voice of the Dwarf Stone Belly.
The inquiry was, of course, not about retreating but about entering the cathedral.
The dwarf, known for his greed and putting wealth above all, had already relinquished searching the many roadside buildings due to the team’s demands.
Faced with this grand structure at the road’s end, if not allowed to satiate his greed a bit, he might grow disloyal on the spot.
Marcus naturally did not turn a blind eye.
After all, they ventured this deep into Grey Valley to seize more profit.
Now, since there were no other buildings beyond the cathedral, just barren rock walls, it was undoubtedly the deepest point of the valley.
If any treasure did exist, this would be the place.
He took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill his belly.
With his gaze fixed on the decayed half-open door of the church not far ahead, he beckoned his companions over:
"Let’s go in slowly."
...
"Creak."
Accompanied by the soft patter of stone dust, the stifled sound of the wooden door being pushed open echoed faintly in the vast and silent hall.
Beyond the broken threshold, it was not any awe-inspiring architecture that first caught the eye, but the swirling dust mixed with mist in the air and the heavy palpable decay that even those with the weakest perception ability could sense.
The benches were decayed, leaving only pieces of grey-black wood unrecognizable from their original form, and a thick layer of dust covered the floor, with rubble and unidentified bone fragments scattered everywhere;
The towering dome, now under the background of cracks and the sound of the wind, seemed like it could collapse at any moment, completely devoid of the safety it once symbolized;
The massive stone pillars supporting the entire cathedral perhaps still struggled to fulfill their duty, but the sacred carvings and reliefs on their surfaces had been worn away by the river of time, leaving only twisted, ferocious outlines.
If it were a visitor with relevant knowledge and keen observation skills, perhaps they could deduce from the details in the church what had happened here once.
But what Marcus and his companions focused on was the gigantic, sacred figure in the center of the hall, towards the back.
They had encountered it near the valley entrance, a mutilated statue now finally revealing its full form.
With one hand upraised, the arm formed a subtle arc, with fingers naturally outstretched as if holding something up, or perhaps pleading for mercy from some higher existence;
Despite the fine cracks and mottled marks time left on its body surface, the delicate and obscure robe engravings and body structure still captured the unique aesthetics of this statue.
Unfortunately, the features of its face had been completely smoothed by the stone dust in the mist, making it impossible to discern the true visage of this divine.
And right below this statue, kneeling was the only living being inside the church, other than Marcus and his companions.
"Uhhh..."
It’s a sound they heard countless times on the way here, a hoarse throaty sound squeezing out from deep within the throat.
A shriveled and emaciated figure knelt silently on the ground, hands clasped in front of the chest, head bowed like engaged in a solemn prayer.
Its back facing the group, the specific appearance was unclear.
But compared to the initial mummified corpse, the only difference seemed to be in the attire—it was no longer coarse linen commonly seen on civilians, but a tattered Priest Robe.
At the cathedral entrance, the three of the Blood Blade Squad maintained unprecedented vigilance, guarding against any potential danger around.
Suddenly, he felt a tug on his clothes.
Marcus frowned slightly and turned his head.
He found Stone Belly with his round eyes wide open, staring straight ahead, his mouth parted in an expression of uncontrolled excitement:
"Bo... Boss, look..."
His gaze followed the direction of Stone Belly’s gaze.
An orange-red shimmering light was reflected in his pupils.
Beneath the statue’s raised foot, before the praying corpse, amidst the gray mist and dust—
A magic wand with an orange gemstone embedded at its tip, its shaft a dark gray, lay quietly on the altar.
Pupils contracted sharply!
The visible avarice and desire emanated from Marcus’s scar-crossed eyes.