My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 120 The One Who Should Have Died But Didn’t

After a night's rest, Yule's physical condition had recovered greatly, so he could hear the conversation outside clearly.

"A zombie that brings death?" A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Are you talking about yourself?
But how did the so-called "priest" know of his arrival?

His instinct told him that there seemed to be some conspiracy hidden here.

When Old John at the door heard what the visitor said, he was stunned and stammered:
"Master Priest, did he, did he make a mistake?"

"No, the High Priest has seen it with his own eyes and ears."

After these words were spoken, Old John did not react at all, but Jules, who was sitting inside, fixed his eyes.

The priest's eyes and ears have seen him?
He raised his eyebrows, his eyes wandering inadvertently to the crow over there.

The crow still seemed unresponsive, only glancing back when his gaze crossed over.

"I said there was something wrong with this thing..." Yule said secretly.

Fortunately, he has always remained vigilant, and the most important information he has revealed so far is that he is from the island of Ireland.

But if you don't know the specific details, you probably won't be able to make any connection, and will just think that he was shipwrecked at sea and ended up here by chance.

The conversation at the door continued, and the visitor gradually lost his patience.

"Old John, I know you took that man in because of Brancug's ancestral teachings, but this is the will of the High Priest, and we have no other choice."

Hearing this, Old John fell into a long silence.

"Let me do it." Yule's voice was a little low.

He walked to the door and stood in front of Old John.

The leading man looked at him with a frown.

At this moment, Jules's tattered clothes and unhealed scars were clearly visible in the morning light. His expression was visibly listless, but his gaze still made people dare not look directly at him.

The crowd quieted down, even their breathing became cautious.

"Are you the zombie?" The man asked tentatively, his hand already on the dagger at his waist, his eyes nervous.

Jules shook his head, his tone calm:

"I don't know what the misunderstanding is, but anyway, I'm not a ghoul, but a living person. I'm afraid you priests must have made a mistake."

The man narrowed his eyes:

"The High Priest never makes mistakes! Those who bring death, please come with us."

The others also put their hands on the small daggers at their waists, looking like they were ready to take action at any time.

The atmosphere instantly dropped to freezing point.

Yule didn't move much, but quickly assessed his current combat effectiveness in his mind.

Although his mobility had only recovered about 20%, his abilities as a superhuman were not greatly hindered.

There were many people coming, but they were all just mortals and posed no threat to him.

But he actually didn't want to take action. He was more interested in what the purpose of this so-called priest was.

"Can I ask who the high priest you are talking about is?" Jules asked with interest.

The man shook his head:
"This is not something you should inquire about. You just need to know that even the Baron is only a junior in front of the Priest."

Barons are just juniors in front of priests? Jules raised his eyebrows, a hint of surprise on his face.

He knew that in today's England, having aristocratic status and not having it were two completely different concepts.

Although with the rise of various new forces, the status of the nobility is gradually no longer as noble as before, it is impossible for them to fall to the point of calling themselves juniors to the "priests" in such a remote corner.

"Wait, does this mean that the priest is the most powerful person here..."

He pondered for a while and said slowly:
"In that case, I'll go with you and lead the way."

If he could meet with the priest, he might be able to have a clearer understanding of the situation here.

If all goes well, it is not impossible to catch a flight back to London.

However, the premise of all this is that the priest does not have any particular ill will towards him, but is a being with whom he can communicate.

Although the first impression was not good, the potential benefits behind it were worth the risk.

The people who came had already prepared to take forceful action, but when they heard that Jules was so cooperative, they all looked surprised.

The man was also stunned for a moment, but he quickly reacted and said in a deep voice:

"Come with us."

After saying that, he looked at Old John.

"Don't worry, if he's found to be fine, we'll send him back soon."

He waved his hand, signaling the crowd to disperse and make way for Jules.

Jules looked around, put his hands behind his back, and walked out as if no one was around.

But he had just taken two steps when he felt the coarse cloth clothes he had just changed into last night being pulled.

When I turned around, it was Old John with a worried look on his face.

"Sir, you..."

"Don't worry, I just went there to get to know the priest." Jules pushed away old John's hand with a relaxed tone.

……

The fog in the early morning grew thicker, blurring the fields on both sides of the path.

Although there is no smog here, the fog is still extremely thick.

Jules walked among the crowd with steady steps, occasionally glancing around.

The leading man walked in front, his hand always on the dagger, occasionally looking back at him.

The others were scattered on both sides, talking in low voices, looking alert, and forming a circle around him to ensure that they could respond immediately to any unusual movements on his part.

The wind blew, bringing with it a hint of the scent of grass.

The cows in the nearby farmhouse began to moo, filling the air with the smell of fireworks.

Jules wrapped his clothes tightly, and the Heart of the Wave beat slightly in his chest, reminding him that his strength was still recovering.

But he didn't care - these mortals couldn't stop him.

He was more concerned about the so-called priest whom he had not yet met.

The team moved forward in silence, crossing the fields and bypassing several low stone houses.

In the distance, a pointed-roof building gradually emerged, and its gray stone walls looked gloomy in the fog.

The man stopped and turned around and said:

"We're here, let's go in."

As Jules walked, he looked at everything in front of him.

Two men in black robes stood at the entrance of the building, their faces hidden under their hoods, holding wooden sticks, motionless.

There was a circle of strange words carved above the door, which he couldn't understand, but he instinctively felt a chill on his back.

"go in."

The man pushed open the heavy wooden door with a deep voice.

The light inside the door was dim, and the air was filled with the smell of dampness and incense.

A long corridor leads to the depths, with faded curtains hanging on the walls on both sides.

Jules followed the man inside, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

The man in black robe closed the door, blocking out the fog outside and leaving only deathly silence.

At the end of the corridor was a large hall with a fire burning in the center. The flames flickered, casting distorted shadows on the walls. A figure sat behind the fire, dressed in a gray robe and a bird-bone mask. The eyeholes on the mask were pitch black, making it impossible to discern any expression.

The man said respectfully to the figure:
"Master Priest, the person you requested has been brought here."

"Very well, let's get down."

After the man left, the priest finally raised his head and looked at Jules directly.

"Are you the man from Ireland?" a hoarse voice sounded from behind the mask.

Yule stopped and nodded.

"It's me. What do you want from me? Do you really think I'm a ghoul?"

Along the way, he was always paying attention to his surroundings, guarding against any possible threats from the rituals.

To his surprise, there was nothing.

Even the aura of the priest in front of him, although it gave him a deep and unliving feeling, did not contain any unconcealable malice.

The priest slowly stood up and walked towards Jules.

The firelight shone on him, and the shadows under the bone mask were darker because of the backlighting.

"You are not an ordinary person. Tell me, what are you doing in Brancug?"

The priest's voice was extremely strange, like two bones colliding with each other, making a human-like language.

Yule was silent for a moment, then said calmly:

"I didn't mean to do anything, I just drifted here. If I'm offended, I can leave now and go to London."

The priest chuckled, as if he had heard something interesting.

"London? That damn place? Everyone else is fleeing, but you're running the other way?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Yule said coldly. "You called me here just to ask this?"

The priest didn't answer, but raised his hand and pointed to a wooden chair next to the fire.

Previously, the chair was perfectly hidden in the shadows, and even Jules almost didn't notice it.

"Sir, let's sit down first."

The fire flickered, and the hall was so quiet that only the crackling of wood could be heard.

Jules sat down on the chair with a cold look in his eyes.

He wanted to see what tricks the priest was going to play.

After the priest sat down, he did not say anything, but took out two leaves from his arms, put them in his mouth and began to chew, while handing them to Jules.

"Two slices?"

Is this... mint leaves? Or something else? Jules struggled to identify it with his limited knowledge of botany.

But even though he was sure that the leaves were chewable, he still waved his hand and said:

"No need. I'm not interested in these things. Please just tell me what you want from me."

The priest shrugged, put the leaves away, stared at Jules and said:
"Actually, it's nothing. I just want to confirm one thing."

He paused, his tone extremely serious:
"Have you ever died and come back to life?"

Jules even had the illusion that there was a hint of uneasiness and expectation in the tone of the person in front of him.

He narrowed his eyes and said:
"Maybe. I don't know."

This answer was ambiguous, or it could be said that it was no answer at all, but it seemed to make the priest breathe a sigh of relief.

"Please rest assured, sir. I bear you no ill will," he said, his tone unconsciously becoming a little more respectful. "I simply wish to ask you for a favor. I will do my best to meet your needs."

Yule's eyes flashed:
"What's the deal?"

The priest shook his head and said:
"I can't tell you yet. Please follow me and you'll find out soon."

After saying that, he walked deeper into the cave.

Jules hesitated for a moment, but then followed.

As of now, the priest himself seems to be at the first or second level. His strength is not weak, but it is not a big threat to him.

There was no malice in the other party's words, but rather an intention to seek cooperation.

After a while, the priest opened the back door and took Jules to the cemetery behind the church.

The cemetery was shrouded in a thin mist, and the air was damp and cold, with the smell of earth and rotten leaves.

The tombstones were crooked, some were cracked, and some were blurred, but they were not covered with moss like other dilapidated cemeteries, and it was obvious that someone had cleaned them.

A gust of wind blew, rustling the low bushes nearby, and in the distance came the sharp and piercing cry of crows.

The priest stopped in front of a clearing with rough stone slabs on the ground. A white symbol was painted in the center and several bone staffs were inserted around the edges.

He turned around and spoke in a low voice from behind the bone mask:

"We're here. Please verify it."

Jules narrowed his eyes:
"Verify what?"

The priest did not answer directly, but took out a small bag of gray powder from his robe and sprinkled it on the stone slab.

Yule recognized that it should be ashes - he didn't know whether it was human or not, but he thought it was likely.

The priest took out a scimitar from his waist and cut a line on the palm of his hand. Blood dripped into the center of the symbol and quickly seeped into the cracks in the stone, staining the white symbol with a touch of blood.

"Now, I would like you to stand in the middle of this symbol." He suddenly turned around and said hoarsely.

Yule raised his eyebrows:

"Can't you just tell me what you're going to do?"

The priest hesitated for a moment, as if he had something to hide.

After a while, he finally sighed:
"I want to verify whether you are the so-called 'one who should have died but did not die' as predicted."

Someone who should have died but didn't... Jules's eyes flickered as he thought of Matilda's "tragic ending" ceremony.

He always felt that he should be dead, but miraculously he survived.

Is it precisely because of this that the so-called requirement of "should have died but has not died" is met?

Seeing that Jules was slow to respond, the priest did not force him, but instead almost pleaded:
"I bear no ill will towards you! I initially asked the locals to do that simply to avoid arousing suspicion from outsiders and to facilitate our work. If you require, I can offer apology!"

Yule glanced at the priest and said leisurely:
"Then let's try to verify it."

The cemetery was eerily quiet; even the crows had stopped cawing.

The fog pressed even lower, and the shadow on the stone tablet was distorted, as if watching everything.

Jules stood at the center of the ceremony, while the priest next to him was muttering something in a low voice.

He could sense that this ritual seemed to belong to the category of Winter Code, and was not a ritual of human sacrifice, so he dared to give it a try.

After all, the priest didn't seem to want to harm him.

Soon, as the priest chanted in a low voice, the stone tablets guarding him emitted a faint light.

In a trance, Jules felt as if the world before him was pulling away from his existence.

The last time I had a similar feeling, it was Matilda who came to my aid—but the power she displayed then was much stronger than this.

Just as he was about to feel it more carefully, the ceremony suddenly stopped and the feeling of detachment disappeared instantly.

"You, you are indeed the existence in the prophecy!" The priest became visibly excited and even stuttered when speaking.

He fell to his knees and kowtowed uncontrollably:

"Please help us! Save Brancug!"

(End of this chapter)