Chapter 607: The Dark Ally and the Skull of Dreams

Chapter 607: The Dark Ally and the Skull of Dreams

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

The atmosphere inside the hall abruptly shifted as a sudden surge of warmth enveloped the space. It felt as if a potent ray of sunlight had broken through the confines of the ceiling, moving with intention and purpose over the heads of the assembly below. Yet, in the presence of this strange heat, the artificial illumination provided by the gas lamps and candle holders diminished inexplicably, as though being consumed by lurking shadows.

However, members affiliated with the Annihilation Cult, present within the confines of the hall, appeared remarkably unfazed by this unforeseen alteration. After a fleeting moment of mild upheaval, every eye was magnetically pulled upwards to behold the architectural marvel of the grand dome overhead.

Richards gaze followed suit. As he scanned the opulent interiors of the hall from the luxuriant drapes and glittering chandeliers to the intricately painted expanse of the ceiling it became evident that every nook was immersed in this elusive radiance. This play of light seemed to dance and shift, creating mesmerizing patterns, before coalescing towards the epicenter of the dome, where its genuine essence was unveiled.

Manifesting as a glowing orb, it bore an uncanny resemblance to a blazing sun in its full glory. It radiated an almost blinding brilliance and warmth. However, its ethereal and almost ghostly quality hinted at it being more of a holographic projection than a solid entity. Slowly, and with deliberate grace, this minuscule sun commenced its descent, making its way directly towards the Saint positioned at the heart of the hall.

Hushed conversations and muffled whispers buzzed through the gathering. Richard managed to catch fragments of these whispered dialogues, which indicated growing unrest among the attendees. A few expressed their indignation at the audacity of the envoy of the foreign deity for disregarding established customs and protocols. Some went as far as to argue that the halls sanctity was being desecrated by allowing the emissaries of an alien faith to enter.

Yet, the powerful voice of the Saint reverberated, reaching both the ears and the very souls of everyone present, swiftly quieting the murmurs. Ah, our ally makes their entrance, he declared.

As the Saints words resonated, the luminous exterior of the descending sun-like entity started to wane. As it grew dimmer, its core became visible to all.

The heart of this projection was a horrifying mass, resembling a ball of peculiar flesh and teeming with undulating tentacles. Interspersed among these tentacles were countless eyes, marking this entity as the offspring of the sun.

The projection stretched out its tentacles, with every eye darting in multiple directions. Almost instantaneously, beneath this solar offspring, another spectral figure took form.

This was a human figure clad in dark robes adorned with golden trims, indicative of the Sun Cults priestly rank. A golden mask, fashioned to mirror the sun, obscured his face. The spectral priest, representing the Sun Cult, touched down gracefully on the central platform, assuming a position before the Saint.

The solar offspring emitted a deeply unsettling hum. This sound, composed of multi-layered whispers and uncanny noises, seemed alien and nearly incomprehensible to human ears, inducing a feeling of unease in those who heard it.

The figure, distinguished by a shimmering golden mask shaped like the sun, stepped forth to address the assembly. Interpreting the vague undulations in the atmosphere, he began, I perceive the palpable tension in this hall.

The Saint, an imposing presence with unusual eyestalks that now rose in a gesture that combined intrigue with dominance, responded, You must grasp the significance of where you stand. This is the consecrated congregation site dedicated to our Deity. For centuries, weve safeguarded its sanctity by excluding devotees and representatives of external divinities. However, rest assured that our dedication to the pact we forged remains unwavering despite these age-old customs.

The projected figure of the sun offspring, hanging in the air, seemed to expand slightly, its deep, enigmatic resonances filling the space. Swiftly, the sun priest by its side interpreted the vibrations, These doctrinal disagreements can be the burden of the times to come. The twilight approaches, and we, the lingering fragments of the Deep Sea Era, must prioritize our mutual coexistence.

The Saints deep voice rumbled, Indeed, mutual existence. In the impending reshaped world, our variances will find their places. Did you arrive here to underline this sentiment?

The sun priest, his mask reflecting the ambient glow, replied, Not solely for that purpose. I sought to engage with you about the unfortunate setbacks we encountered in our recent expedition. My intention was to meet you earlier, but the oppressive presence of the counterfeit sun hindered me. Now that it has dipped below the horizon, Ive made my way here.

He continued, his voice calm yet commanding, I acknowledge your apprehensions. However, their might is indispensable to us.

A disciple, cloaked in the distinct robes of the Annihilation Cult, stepped closer to the platform, voicing a concern that weighed on many minds, O Venerable One, regarding the sun offspring and its descendants, can we truly rely on them to uphold their end of the bargain?

The Saint pondered for a brief moment before responding, I have never placed unwavering trust in pledges made by such otherworldly entities, especially since their origin was marred by deceit. However, as long as our goals align, they lack motive to shatter this alliance. Their reliance on us is as significant as ours on them. Within the tapestry spun by the Dream of the Nameless One, its us theyre fated to ally with.

The whisperings of skepticism evaporated.

Almost on cue, the chimes of the ornate mechanical clock, majestically mounted at the far end of the hall, reverberated.

DingDingDing

The echoing chimes filled the silence.

The Saints voice rose again, pulling everyones focus, This discussion has reached its conclusion. Time is of the essence. Soon, the bridge between our realm and the Dream of the Nameless One will manifest. All those slated for tonights venture into the dream, step forth and ready yourselves to make contact with the Skull of Dreams.

Richard, encircled by a cadre of fellow black-robed initiates, caught a glimpse of several of his comrades advancing towards the platform. Among them, he recognized Dumont, the same individual who had approached him earlier.

Not wanting to lag behind, Richard quickened his pace.

Concurrently, a group of cultists adorned in muted gray robes made their way into the hall. They maneuvered a robust, rune-etched cart, its surface concealed by a blood-soaked black cloth. Beneath it, a shadowy, enigmatic form lay hidden.

Position the Skull of Dreams at the platforms forefront, the Saint decreed.

As the cultists methodically wheeled the cart towards the elevated platform that dominated the center of the hall, the anticipation in the room was palpable. With deliberate care, a pair of them positioned themselves on either side of the cloth shrouding the carts mysterious content, their fingers lightly grasping its edges.

Richards pulse quickened. While he had faced the Skull of Dreams multiple times before, its mere presence never failed to stir a cocktail of trepidation and reverence within him.

The Skull of Dreams was an artifact renowned not just for its immense power, but also for the disconcerting aura it emanated. Every interaction with it brought forth an unrelenting dread that seemed to seep into ones very soul. Although his unwavering faith and dedication bolstered his resolve to engage with the artifact, these convictions provided little comfort against the overwhelming unease that the skull induced. Each encounter with it felt like stepping into unfamiliar territory, where a primal fear held dominion.

With a synchronized motion, the two cultists removed the dark cloth, pulling it away to unveil the artifact beneath.

Laid out before the assembly was the Skull of Dreams an eerily realistic depiction of a goats head, sculpted meticulously from what appeared to be dark, age-worn wood. Its deep black hue seemed to absorb the ambient light, making it appear as if shadows clung to its surface. The detailing was uncanny, with every groove, indentation, and line adding to its lifelike nature.