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Chapter 440. The Story of the Third Cycle [3 Reincarnations] (17)

On his first day as the Death Priest, all the priests in the entire Dark Pantheon were shaken.

Thus began a banquet jointly initiated by all the priests to celebrate the succession of the Priest of Death and Silence.

Because the God of Death and Silence did not issue any divine pronouncements, and Edric's impressions of the God of Death and Silence and the Dark Gods were limited to the Holy Scriptures of Light and other unofficial books and biographies.

He believed that the gods of darkness were the legitimate subjects of the god of death and silence, and thus he participated in the banquet.

The long table was covered with a thick, dark red tablecloth that resembled congealed blood. Edric sat in the main seat, watching the figures emerge one by one from the deeper shadows of the hall and walk to their respective places.

The first to take his seat was a strange man with the head of a bull. Two clusters of eerie green flames flickered in his empty eye sockets, while below his neck he was draped in a human nobleman's robe, and his bony hooves made a clear sound as they landed on the stone slabs.

Its neighbor, a long, black face covered with damp, short hair, exhaled white mist from its nostrils carrying the scent of hay, and its mouth was unnaturally parted in a half-smile.

Opposite him, a priest wearing a tattered lion skin strolled over. Beneath the lion skin was not a human body, but countless tangled and wriggling dark roots that supported his movement. Occasionally, soil and tiny insects would peek out from between the roots.

They took their seats in turn, silent and still, without uttering a word, yet everything was revealed in their silence.

The truth from the priest was suddenly revealed to them.

Edric sat in the head seat, never imagining that this was the truth.

So, the priests... are actually a bunch of monsters?
The former Holy Son of Light, who had received a good education since childhood, sat awkwardly and dignifiedly in his seat, wearing a black robe, with his hands resting flat on his knees.

On either side of the long table, however, lies a completely different world.

The bull-headed priest had already torn open his collar, raising a huge silver cup with his finger bones and shouting. The horse-faced man tilted his head back and drank deeply, the murky liquid dripping from the corners of his cracked mouth, soaking the tangled short hair on his neck. The tangled roots beneath the lion skin emerged, swirling up the whole roasted beast, making a loud chewing sound.

They clinked glasses, sat slouching, and the sounds of clattering vessels, hoarse roars, and incomprehensible chants mingled together, echoing and clattering in the stone hall, stirring the sweet and pungent aroma of spices and blood in the air.

It's unclear who first noticed the overly upright figure in the main seat.

Discussions began to spread, starting with a few suppressed snickers, which quickly escalated into undisguised mockery.

"Look at our priest of the Deathly Silence Throne... why is he sitting so straight, like he's on the gallows?"

The monsters tapped their fingertips on the silver cups, making a tinkling sound with laughter.

Edric remained seated, but his fingertips dug deeply into his palms beneath his black robe.

He suddenly realized that in this dark hall, maintaining proper etiquette was the mark of the outcast.

He had no idea what to do in such an environment.

The armor forged by his long upbringing was now confining him.

The clamor grew increasingly rampant, and the malice almost materialized, wrapping around his neck.

The young priest's jaw tightened further, and his head bowed lower and lower in a more constrained manner.

Just as the mockery reached its boiling point.

"Om..."

Without warning, a huge black ring quietly appeared directly behind Edric's high-backed chair.

An invisible pressure spread wildly, sweeping across the entire hall in an instant.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

All the priests at this moment seemed to have their throats gripped by an invisible hand. They involuntarily and laboriously turned in the same direction, their gazes fixed in fear on Edric... or rather, on the black ring behind him that devoured all light.

Deathly silence, true deathly silence, descended.

A chill ran down Edric's spine as if an ice crystal had sliced ​​through him; he seemed to sense something and wanted to turn around.

But before he could turn around, his black wizard hat was grabbed.

“These gods are not under my command. You should attend fewer of these boring gatherings.”

A cold, damp voice, as if crawling up from the underworld, appeared behind him.

Because of its extremely cold and ruthless tone, which made it highly recognizable, Edric confirmed almost instantly that it must be from his own god.

Upon hearing this, his mind raced, and he quickly grasped its meaning.

"Snapped."

With a soft sound, the silver cup he had been holding loosely was placed back on the table, the sound of the bottom of the cup hitting the tablecloth amplified in the silence.

He didn't look at anyone else, nor did he seem to be in a hurry. He simply rose slowly, straightened his wrinkled robe sleeves, and then began to walk.

The black robe brushed against the cold ground, making a faint scraping sound.

He walked towards the exit of the hall, his steps steady, his back as straight as ever.

The enormous black ring followed him like a shadow, hovering above him, clearing the way for his departure with its supreme authority, suppressing any possible sounds or rash actions.

All the priests bowed their heads deeply under that oppressive aura, not daring to look directly at him.

"Tap...tap...tap..."

The deathly silent priest's footsteps were unhurried yet clear, gradually fading into the darkness outside the temple.

After a long while, the lingering power of the black ring gradually dissipated.

The frozen banquet scene slowly thawed.

The monsters slowly raised their heads, each with its own unique shape, and looked at each other in bewilderment.

On each inhuman face, a kind of almost comical, blushing embarrassment and lingering fear were clearly reflected.

No one spoke again.

The remaining banquet, with its fine wines and delicacies, suddenly became tasteless and even somewhat unappetizing.

The night remained deep, but the boisterous celebration had come to an end.

……

After that day, Edric stopped attending the priests' banquets.

After saying a sentence at the banquet of the God of Death Silence, he began another long period of cold violence. However, one day a map appeared on the altar table in the temple.

Following the map's directions, Edric found a bookstore containing books from the Dark Pantheon, including the Codex of Deathly Silence.

When the bookstore owner heard that he was the Deathly Priest, he enthusiastically offered to give him a 20% discount.

Edric looked up at the densely packed, massive books in the bookstore, then looked down at the few simple arrows on the map.

Although the implication was rather somber, he understood.

—This means that God disliked his lack of education and wanted him to read more books.

Edric is also a serious person.

He took a large stack of books back and read them one by one. After studying through several sleepless nights, he finally pieced together the story of the God of Death and understood why the god had said those words that day.

Besides his ever-growing knowledge, one day, Edric was sitting alone on a stone chair by the window in a side hall, reading an ancient book by the light of the daylight streaming through the window.

suddenly--

"Knock, knock knock."

A clear knock broke the temple's usual silence.

The voice was regular, polite, and even carried a hint of lightness that seemed out of place.

Edric looked up from the obscure text, closed the book, and got up to walk toward the heavy door.

"Squeak-"

The door was pulled open a crack, then opened completely.

Standing there was a young man wearing an extremely elaborate floral top hat.

His clothes were impeccably tailored, and a bright yet not overly enthusiastic smile played on his lips. He exuded a vibrant and superior aura that contrasted sharply with the deathly silence around him.

As the door opened, the young man smoothly removed his floral hat, placed it in front of his chest, and bowed slightly, giving an impeccable greeting.

His gaze was bright and unabashedly fixed on Edric's face; his voice was clear and pleasant, filled with sincerity and enthusiasm.
"Good day, Your Excellency, the High Priest of Deathly Silence, Lord Edric. I apologize for disturbing your meditation."

He straightened up, his smile unchanged, and continued in a tone that held a hint of expectation:

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I currently have a proposal that might interest you—a book titled 'Finance and Faith Studies.' I wonder if the lofty and profound Temple of Death would be interested in... providing support for its publication?"

A gentle breeze blew by, causing the ribbon on his hat brim to tremble slightly, carrying a wisp of floral fragrance from outside the temple.