When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1195 Dragon Soul
That evening, on the outskirts of St. Regis.

The motorcycle park, once a hub of the expo, gradually returned to its usual quiet state after the expo ended.

Apart from the fact that many local residents come here on weekends, there are very few tourists anymore.

Compared to the bustling St. John's Central Park, this place is rather deserted.

However, this deserted park is guarded by troops, mainly for the exhibits in the park's museum.

According to the arrangements of the Holy Church, these exhibits will be displayed at the Holy See for half the year, and the remaining time will be given to the two county towns for display each year.

They are placed here so that they can be transported to Rapids City later.

However, this conveniently provided a good venue for these vampires and dreamless fortune tellers.

The light from the fluorescent lamps pierced through the mist, spreading into dim, yellowish spots that shone on the soldiers lined up outside the warehouse.

The transferred soldiers wore light steel breastplates, the deck gleaming with a cold, hard sheen, and the muzzles of their wind-up muskets pointed diagonally towards the night sky.

In the shadows to their side were three witches dressed in black robes.

They were all wearing crowns and belonged to the Cheka Special Affairs Bureau, which specialized in handling extraordinary events.

Therefore, the witches selected were all high-level single-target fighters, mainly to prevent unexpected events from occurring.

After all, it's related to dragons and necromancy, so it's hard not to suspect that something bad has happened.

The warehouse iron door was newly replaced with a thick cast iron plate, and the hinges were coated with slime-derived lubricant.

The moment Iturus and the dwarves pushed open the door, a stench of dust, old wood, and fish assaulted their senses.

Looking up, he could see the head of the thousand-year-old dragon lying quietly on the high platform in the center of the warehouse.

Its dark blue scales were covered in dust, and its empty eye sockets stared blankly at the person who pushed open the door.

In the glass display case next to the skull, there are also famous relics such as Leia's Scales Crown and the Ark of the Sacred Heart.

The elders of the Soridor clan stood beside the dragon's head, clearly having waited for a long time.

Hearing a soft sound behind him, he turned around and saw Ituruus walking towards him, carrying a bronze ritual implement.

This is a young vampire who looks to be in his early twenties. He is one of his nephews or nieces, and is considered one of the more open-minded members of the Soridor clan.

"Elder, the ritual implements for communicating with the corpses are ready." Ituluus's voice was respectful. "Brother Karen of the Dreamless Hermitage said that the ritual can be started in a quarter of an hour."

Soridor nodded and patted Itulous on the shoulder: "Do you know that our Soridor clan has survived until now?"

"Why? Because we are valuable because we are traitors to the enemy?"

"Bullshit, don't listen to those old elders, they're all useless."

"what is that?"

"A hundred years ago, during a period of internal strife in the royal court, we refused to submit to the southern clans, and our entire clan nearly perished in the volcanic ash of the City of No Light."

We were able to hide and then seek refuge with the Holy Alliance because Her Majesty Sirof took us in.

His Majesty Horn has now asked us to participate in the analysis of the dragon's head, not because we are important, but because among all the Holy Alliance, only our Soridor clan still possesses the magic of communicating with corpses.

The elder's gaze swept over the soldiers outside the warehouse, and his tone became a bit more serious: "In the Holy Alliance, we are like sparrows under the eaves, able to shelter from the rain, but we must not forget our place."

Today's ceremony cannot afford the slightest mistake. For our Soridor clan to survive, we must demonstrate our worth to His Majesty.

You should know that the Holy Alliance can even accept witches, let alone vampires?

In any case, compared to the Holy Alliance, I don't want to go back to that cold, gloomy royal court, unless we are a priestly family.

“I understand, Elder.” Ituruus was no fool and naturally understood the meaning behind it. “I will not bring shame to the clan, nor will I betray the trust of His Highness Sirof and His Highness Horn.”

Soridor looked at his young face and nodded in satisfaction: "Go."

Iturus responded and turned to walk toward the ceremonial array in the center of the warehouse.

Three monks from the Dreamless Hermitage had already gathered there, dressed in stiff white linen robes.

Their collars were embroidered with silver dream patterns, and each person held a whalebone staff with a crystal ball at the top.

The leading monk, Brother Karen, picked up the magic artifact box and opened it, releasing a fragrant aroma carrying the scent of humus.

That's the scent of incense for the dead, capable of calming restless souls.

“Thank you for your trouble, friends of the Soridor clan,” Karen said gently.

Nodding, Iturus stepped aside and stood in a semicircle with the other five clan members, raising his arms at the same time.

They slit their wrists, and pale red blood slowly flowed into the bronze basin beneath the dragon's head. Raising his whalebone staff, Karen began chanting an incomprehensible incantation: "Eyes without dreams, memories of the departed..."

The other cultivators joined in the chanting, and the crystal balls of the three staffs simultaneously emitted a white light.

"Now!" Itulus shouted, and began casting the spell.

The chanting of necromancy began, and the blood in the copper basin started to boil, bubbling with tiny bubbles.

Suddenly, the scales on the dragon's head glowed with a bluish light, and a dark bluish light seeped out from the gaps in the scales, turning the warehouse into an eerie bluish-green.

Abruptly, the stench of dragon scales in the air intensified, as if a colossal beast that had been dormant for a thousand years was slowly awakening.

Sweat streamed down Brother Karen's forehead, but he dared not move.

The vampires turned even paler, but they dared not move, for fear of disrupting the spell.

However, their wishes were destined to be in vain.

In a corner where no one was paying attention, the Libra crown in the glass display case actually moved slightly.

First, the topmost emerald diamond, the size of a pigeon's egg, made a soft sound as it fell off its gold base.

Then, other gems and decorations fell off one after another, some rolling to the edge of the display case, and others getting stuck in the gaps in the base.

Before long, the crown was reduced to a bare golden thorn ring.

The tangled thorn patterns suddenly became hot, and golden ripples spread across the gold surface.

Like water rippling in the wind, golden ripples spread out from the edge of the display case, extending towards the dragon's head.

"What's going on?" Karen stopped chanting abruptly when she caught sight of the golden ripples out of the corner of her eye, looking utterly shocked.

The golden ripples quickly touched the scales of the dragon's head, and the blue light instantly surged, forming a pillar of light that pierced the sky.

A pale white mist suddenly seeped from the dragon's eye sockets; it was a fragment of the dragon's remnant soul's consciousness, ten times denser than when the corpses had spoken earlier.

Like a living cloud, it slowly floats upwards along the beam of light.

According to the plan, this white mist was supposed to seep into Karen's crystal ball and enter his dream.

Suddenly, the white mist was drawn by some invisible force, rushed towards the warehouse dome, and then exploded with a bang.

Countless tiny white threads fell and scattered in every corner of the warehouse.

Karen's face turned deathly pale: "Oh no! The remnant soul's consciousness has gone out of control! It didn't enter my dream!"

He hurriedly raised his staff, trying to catch the white silk.

But the white threads were too fine and fragmented, like dandelions scattered by the wind, turning into nothingness as soon as they touched the white light.

"No, it didn't explode, the main body is still here! Quickly, let's use divination to see whose dream its main body has entered!"

The monk next to him immediately took out the animal bone tablets used for divination and spread them on the ground.

Karen crouched down, her eyes flashing white light.

The dominoes vibrated slightly and glowed red, but before the red light could stabilize, the dominoes suddenly shattered with a "crack".

Karen clutched her chest suddenly, and a mouthful of blood spilled from her mouth and nose.

"Brother! How are you?" Itulus rushed over and supported the swaying Karen.

Karen was breathing rapidly, his face as white as paper, and he pointed towards the center of the Holy Armory.

That's where the Holy See Building is located, Horn's residence.

His voice was hoarse and almost incoherent: "It...it didn't infiltrate the consciousness of ordinary people..."

Elder Soridor quickly stepped forward and supported Karen's other arm. He could feel the monk's body trembling: "Sister Karen, explain yourself! Whose dream did it infiltrate?"

Karen coughed up blood, her eyes filled with despair.

He raised his hand, pointing towards the Holy Mechanism Court shrouded in night mist, each word squeezed from his throat: "Why...why did it choose Your Majesty? It infiltrated Your Majesty's dream!"

The warehouse fell into a deathly silence.

Elder Soridor's face instantly turned as pale as Karen's.

He turned to look at the white mist still drifting from the dragon's eye sockets, and then everything went black.

This is really the end for us.

(End of this chapter)