Chapter 173: The Beginning of the Aberration
Although they had decided to begin the ritual, a ceremony of such scale could not simply be started at will.
The Federation’s lockdowns and purges had not been in vain — originally, the ritual should have been seamless, needing only the lead priest to stand at the center and activate it step by step once preparations were complete.
But now, they lacked the means for that. They couldn’t afford to start something so grand so openly, especially since the Federation’s geographical and political center — the capital — was far more dangerous and tightly guarded than anywhere else. The capital housed more [Lamp]-type Transcendents than any other city, and even secretly inscribing runes in its shadows was an arduous, time-consuming task.
It was only thanks to the high-ranking believers who had infiltrated the “human” population of the capital that the concealment plan had succeeded.
They were also fortunate that the Transcendent awakening had only happened recently — humans still had a crude method for identifying fanatics, allowing those high-ranking believers with [Disguise] abilities to hide safely among them.
Following their Master’s instructions, they had slightly modified the activation sequence of the formation, dividing it into thirteen ignition points. Once these thirteen critical locations were triggered in the correct order, the enormous formation spanning the entire Federation would fully awaken.
They had been preparing for this moment for a long time. When everything was ready — including the “offerings” required for the activation — they returned once more to that dark, damp underground tomb.
Mundane jewels were worthless as offerings to Their Master. The believers had instead prepared the flesh and organs of Transcendents.
One by one, nearly a hundred believers descended into the not-so-spacious tomb. All of them were high-ranking followers. Their clothing differed, but their faces bore the same expression — a fervor so intense it bordered on madness.
Almost every one of them carried a backpack. When they unzipped them, they retrieved their “prey” — the flesh of slain Transcendents, mostly intact hearts sealed within strange crimson glass jars. The liquid inside seemed to preserve the hearts’ vitality — they were still faintly pulsing.
The heart was the source of power, the part of a Transcendent that held the most energy and life. A single high-quality heart was worth more than hundreds of lesser organs.
Now, as the believers laid out their offerings, the tomb was filled with over a thousand still-beating human Transcendent hearts.
And this — this was only one ignition point.
If each of the thirteen sites required this many offerings, it meant that tens of thousands of Transcendents would die — all merely as “fuel” to ignite the grand array. And even then, those countless deaths were only the spark; the true fuel was every living being trapped within the array’s reach.
Once the offerings were placed in their designated spots, the hundred high-ranking believers knelt in unison within the formation. Their leader raised his head and began to chant — words strange and ancient, somewhere between a spell and a hymn.
Soon, the others joined in. Their synchronized voices filled the tomb, deep and solemn, rising in intensity as though calling out to something beyond the world. When the chant reached a certain verse, the sigils beneath them began to shimmer faintly, as if responding.
The leader’s eyes gleamed with wild excitement. He clenched his left hand into a fist, raised his right thumb to his wrist, and without hesitation, drew his fingernail sharply across it.
The wound was deep. Blood spurted freely, splattering onto the ground — and the faint light beneath him flickered in response.
He was merely the first. Behind him, the hundred believers — without needing command or persuasion — raised their left arms and cut their wrists in unison, letting their blood flow freely.
It was as though the blood itself wasn’t theirs, but the fuel required to awaken the array.
The offerings were not only the thousand hearts they brought — they themselves were sacrifices.
But not one showed fear or hesitation. To them, this wasn’t death — it was glory. To be consumed by the ritual was to contribute to their Master’s will and return to His embrace. To be chosen as a necessary part of this divine plan was the highest honor a believer could attain.
In that feverish, fanatical atmosphere, even as the array greedily absorbed their blood, even as their faces grew pale and bodies began to collapse one after another, no one faltered.
The array would burn their blood, their flesh, even their souls. And when all within that tomb turned to ash and void — the first engine of the apocalypse would ignite.
They say that animals can sense disaster before it comes, reacting to nature’s hidden tremors. And though what approached the Federation was not a natural calamity, the air itself had begun to hum with something darker, older — and infinitely more ominous.
Birds took to the skies in swarms, beating their wings frantically to flee the ground. Dogs once docile turned restless and snarled at empty air. Insects poured from the soil, rats fled the sewers in droves, scattering into the streets.
Then, from a remote mountain peak, a pillar of crimson light shot into the heavens — and the Federation’s emergency sirens wailed across the land. The world finally realized: the catastrophe had come.
Fortunately, the Federation had been preparing for months. They moved swiftly to calm the populace and dispatched forces to the site.
But when they arrived, the area was already engulfed in the red light. Any living thing that entered its range was instantly drained — flesh, life, and soul — to feed the ritual.
The Federation tried everything. They could not approach, could not interfere. Even tunneling beneath proved futile — the red glow stretched endlessly.
They finally understood: once the array was awakened, there was no turning it off.
And even though only a single ignition point had been activated, the effects were already being felt across the Federation. The temperature began to drop. The once-bright sunlight dimmed under a faint gray haze. People woke from sleep in terror, dreaming of drowning in a sea of blood.
Ordinary citizens grew irritable and unstable. Even Transcendents felt it — the supernatural energy in the air was waning, replaced by something else.
Something clinging to the atmosphere — a restless, invasive current.
The beginning of the end — the spreading of [Cup] energy — had begun.
