This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

Are we supposed to hope that in the next few days we'll suddenly be 'lucky' enough to find someone who 'just happens' to know how to decipher these blasphemies? Even if we do find one, how can we trust such a soul entangled with the knowledge of Hell?

After all, the more you know, the more contaminated you become. It's just like the Cthulhu worldview!

The interrogation of the surrendered heretic captain also reached a deadlock. While they confirmed that the tablets were code books, they had no idea how to decipher them. In the heretic system, this was the exclusive domain of Hell wizards.

All the hell wizards who went on the expedition with the submarine had committed suicide collectively under some kind of agreement before the submarine was in dire straits and the code book could fall into the hands of the enemy. When their bodies were found, without exception, they were all bleeding from all seven orifices, their souls had long been dragged back to hell.

The decryption progress was interrupted again.

When this difficult problem was reported to Neos through encrypted telegrams, he fell into a long silence.

He knew that conventional means had been exhausted. Relying on existing human wisdom and power to quickly decipher this code, which was directly connected to the essence of hell, was nothing but a pipe dream.

Although he was immune to the contamination of hell, he was not a mathematician and did not have that much time, so he made a decision -

He's going to make a deal with the Warp.

----------

Deep in the Carpathian Mountains, in an ancient monastery unknown even to God and tightly sealed by the Crusaders, was the place of transaction.

This is not the first transaction, but a place where humans and certain demons in the warp can negotiate transactions under the deterrence of Neos's "reason" and "psychic power".

Humans trading with Warp Demons is a serious crime against humanity in any area controlled by the Crusaders in Europe! Therefore, the secrets here must not be exposed. The project codename here was also named by Neos - Black Templar.

A few days ago, several "volunteers" were "invited" out from the darkest depths of the Carpathian prison. They were Jewish businessmen who believed in the demon Mammon.

It is this belief that allows them to roam in the gray area between the two major camps of the Crusaders and Hell. They can sell the information about the Crusaders' weapons and ammunition to the minions of Hell at a high price, and they can also try to collect some forbidden technologies and materials from the black market of Hell and resell them to those Crusaders commanders who do not care about the source and only seek practicality.

After all, there are always some Crusader commanders who secretly use the technology of hell to make sophisticated weapons, erase the hell symbols engraved on the weapons, wrap them in a layer of cloth and carve a few crosses on them, and call them "advanced weapons given to mankind by God."

For these Jewish businessmen, war is nothing more than a more lucrative business. As a joke circulated in their circle:

"Faith may fluctuate with the battle line, but gold is eternal."

At this moment, the three selected Jewish merchants, Samuel, Benjamin, and Abram, were standing trembling in front of the altar. They were covered with crosses, but these sacred objects did not seem to completely dispel their fear.

Surrounding them were dozens of Adeptus Mechanicus skitarii armed with flamethrowers, as well as several Inquisition observers, all of whom were under the surveillance of Neos through telepathic telepathy.

"Begin, merchants, and show the courage you used to make deals with the devil."

A cold voice sounded in the minds of the three businessmen - although Neos was thousands of miles away in London, his powerful mental power was enough to transcend the warp and influence them through the strengthening of his statue in the church.

"Remember your promise, and... the price of breaking it."

The three businessmen shuddered upon hearing this. They looked at each other, seeing the same greed and fear in each other's eyes.

This is a huge gamble. If they succeed, they may receive unimaginable rewards; if they fail or betray, the consequences will not be too bad - anyway, they are the sinners who will be sent to burn the Star Torch.

Samuel was cunning and greedy, Benjamin was greedy and cunning, and Abram was both cunning and greedy.

　Abram took a deep breath and took out a dice carved from finger bones and coated with gold powder from under the watchful eyes of the judges who were staring at him with eyes that could have killed him a thousand times.

"Clap!"

He threw it high into the air, chanting in a sharp, distorted Hebrew.

The space around the altar began to distort, the light dimmed, and a sickening odor, a mixture of decay and the stink of money, emerged. Benjamin and Samuel joined in the chanting. The three of them surrounded the altar, spreading the signal of the transaction deep into the warp.

Soon, the space in front of the altar began to ripple. A blurry form, composed of swirling black smoke and tentacles, emerged from the void with a teeth-chilling whisper. It exuded a raw desire, a primal, undisguised hunger for the soul.

"Soul...fresh...soul...trade...qu n児奇久伊三拔留what...trade..." The thing made an unclear sound.

The greedy and cunning Samuel stepped forward with a smile, holding a rubbing of a stone tablet in his hands. "Ah, noble being from the highest heaven! We have a small mystery here that requires the help of your unparalleled wisdom. If you can solve its secret, you will be rewarded with a portion of the essence of humanity's... uh... soul."

When he spoke of the essence of the human soul, the hands of the soldiers who were watching him from a distance all rested on the triggers.

A tentacle from the black mist reached out cautiously and touched the stone rubbing.

"what--!!!"

A shrill scream erupted, and the black mist churned violently, its tentacles instantly reduced to ash. Immediately afterwards, the entire form suddenly contracted in a violent wave, and then with a "bang", it completely disintegrated and dissipated into the air.

The three businessmen were so frightened that they retreated back one after another.

"It seems... the thing on this stone slab is hotter than we thought." Abram wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice trembling.

"Go on, carry out your mission, or burn the Astronomican." Neos's cold voice sounded in their minds again, without any emotion.

They could only bite the bullet and continue casting spells. This time, a slightly larger demon, shaped like a giant worm, its skin covered in wailing human faces, slowly crawled out of the rift in the Warp. It exuded the stench of corruption and plague, and dozens of turbid compound eyes surveyed the three merchants.

"Mortals... it's you, Mammon's lackeys again..." Its voice was like sandpaper scraping against each other. "This time... what cheap souls do you want to exchange for knowledge that does not belong to you?"

The greedy and cunning Benjamin mustered up his courage and held up another rubbing of the stone tablet in front of it, his tone much more cautious than before:

"Respected Sage, this is an extremely... intriguing ancient inscription. We believe that its secrets, once revealed, will bring great opportunities for... uh... all parties involved."

The worm demon extended a slime-covered tentacle and stopped a few inches from the stone rubbing, sniffing carefully. Suddenly, its huge body suddenly shrank back, and the human faces on its skin screamed in terror.

"Curse! The curse of the Lord of Hell! It is engraved with a warning from Purgatory! Foolish mortals! How dare you touch such a forbidden thing! I don't want to be involved in this kind of trouble!" Before he finished speaking, the worm demon quickly shrank back into the subspace rift at a speed that was completely disproportionate to its size, and the rift also quickly closed, as if it was afraid of being caught up by something.

Tried, failed again.

Over the next few hours, the three merchants summoned several more Warp Demons of varying forms and abilities. Some, like the first demon, were weak and died instantly; others, like the second demon, were stronger, but like the second demon, they were wary of the contents of the tablet and avoided it.

Finally, after an even more powerful summoning ritual, a huge humanoid demon, emitting a crimson glow and composed of burning bones and broken weapons, descended.

"What kind of deal is this, you bugs of Mammon, that is worthy for me, Agres, to personally listen to?"

Samuel was almost exhausted at this moment, but facing such a powerful being, he had to be extremely alert and respectfully presented a real stone tablet (not a rubbing):

"O supreme 'Remnant of War'! A secret stone tablet from the abyss of hell, its meaning troubles us mortals. If you can grant us the wisdom to decipher it, we are willing to offer... the despair and unwillingness of all those who died in a bloody battle as a sacrifice!" In order to stay alive, Samuel has begun to make a random offer.

Neos said that if they encountered a big demon that they couldn't deal with, they could name any price they wanted, as long as the demon dared to come to Neos to collect the debt.

Two flames flickered violently in Agres's eye sockets. He extended a massive claw, formed from a broken spear and shattered shield, and snatched up the stone tablet from mid-air. He stared at the runes on the stone, and the air around him froze under the pressure he emanated.

After a moment, it burst into laughter:

"Hahahaha! The code of hell! How ridiculous! You actually want to use this method to peek into the secrets of the abyss?"

It paused, its voice turning playful. "Alright, mortal, I can interpret the contents of this for you. But the price is—you must offer me an entire city with a population of one million. The souls of all its residents must die screaming in utter fear and agony at the same moment!

And it must be in the name of Saint Neos!"

The three businessmen looked ashen. Just agreeing to this condition would mean they would be dead.

"This...this, this cannot be done" (referring to not agreeing to the devil's demands)

Samuel was horrified.

"What? Can't you do it?" Agres' voice was full of sarcasm. "Then get out! Or, leave your three souls behind as compensation for disturbing me!"

At this moment, another, more cunning voice echoed in the hearts of the three merchants. An elegant figure, composed of mist and constantly shifting forms, quietly appeared on the other side of the altar.

"Look at you, pathetic mortals, fawning before these crude beasts." The voice was full of temptation. "Why would you trade with these fools who only know how to destroy and take? I, the 'Joyful Dream Weaver,' can help you. Not only can I decipher these boring stone tablets, I can even help you escape your current predicament and escape from the so-called 'saint' who enslaves you with mental chains.

I can grant you endless wealth, eternal youth, and all the pleasures you could ever dream of. All it takes is a small...small contract to share your interesting souls with me..."

There was a flicker of intoxication and longing in Abram's eyes, and he seemed about to speak.

Suddenly, Neos's cold voice pierced the three businessmen's minds:

"The price of that 'freedom' is your eternal damnation, screaming in endless pain. And if you dare to think about it for even a second longer, I will personally ensure that your 'eternity' begins in the next millisecond."

Quack! It's Neos!

The three businessmen were instantly sobered, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over their heads. Samuel fell to his knees with a plop, kowtowed repeatedly to the void:

"Saints, spare us! Saints, spare us! We have no second thoughts! No second thoughts!"

The graceful figure of the Joyful Dream Weaver paused for a moment, and chuckled softly:

"What boring souls you are, trained to be so obedient by your emperor. Well, goodbye, little mice." The colorful mist quickly dissipated, as if it had never appeared.

Agres also lost his patience, let out a disdainful roar, and sank back into the warp with the stone slab.

Deathly silence returned to the altar. The three merchants collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.

This attempt ended in complete failure. Those feral demons from the Warp were either incapable, harboring ulterior motives, or simply too costly to bear. Using them directly to decipher the Hell Code was clearly a dead end.

Damn it, is it possible that I can only go to hell and kidnap people?

PS: 260 votes, next update 4.5k meow... refresh every 5 minutes, add some pictures

Red Tide: 1921: Chapter 92: The Transfiguration Church, Older Than Hell

"It seems I still don't understand the art of deal-making. I can only use my social skills."

These nameless beings in the Warp either kept their distance from the Hellstone Slabs or offered a price that would bankrupt the entire Crusade. Neos listened quietly to the three Jewish merchants' reports, his face expressionless. He simply waved his hand, signaling them to withdraw and undergo further scrutiny and purification by the Inquisition.

He was not reconciled.

The key to turning the tide of the maritime intelligence war lay before him, yet he couldn't unlock it. This feeling of powerlessness nearly consumed him. Conventional decryption methods had proven ineffective, and the unconventional methods of the subspace had also hit a wall.

"Since we can't bring the knowledge out safely, we can only bring out the 'people' who possess the knowledge."

He planned to sneak into Hell himself and kidnap a Hell wizard.

To this end, he enlisted the help of the Paladin Dominica. This wasn't Dominica's first foray into that land of brimstone and wailing. In fact, ever since being trained by the Mendel Order, all Paladins, with their sanctified bodies and unbreakable faith, have traveled through the various layers of Hell countless times over the past century, carrying out countless secret missions.

Now that the guide has been found, someone has to take charge after Neos leaves - Sugo has come to the world. Although his power is not as strong as Neos, Sugo's existence itself is the most powerful shot in the arm, enough to stabilize the people's hearts that are restless due to the war during the time Neos is away.

Just as Neos was about to further improve the mouse-catching plan, an urgent report from the European Commission's interrogation department once again poured cold water on him.

"Saint, we've received some of the latest intelligence on Hell's wizards from the surrendered heretic submarine captains," an intelligence officer reported solemnly. "The wizards of Hell...they've signed a return contract with the Royal Court."

These captains thought that they could receive treatment under the Hague Convention by surrendering voluntarily, but they were not human. After being captured, they were all sent to Himmler's small black room. They were not questioned first, but went through a large memory recovery process. Within 48 hours, these heretic captains cried and begged Himmler to ask them questions.

According to the confessions of captains who had completely collapsed in fear, all Hell wizards who could decipher the slate had signed a pact with the Hydra Court. Their souls were deeply bound to the power of the Court. As long as their soul cores were not instantly crushed and completely annihilated by some greater force at the moment of death, they could rely on the power of the pact to self-destruct on the spot, reducing their bodies to ash while their souls returned safely to Hell, awaiting their next rebirth.

"Moreover," the intelligence director added, "the more powerful the Hell wizard, the more vast the blasphemous knowledge they possess. They even transform old spell systems and develop entirely new ways of casting spells with astonishing creativity every year.

This means that even if we successfully abduct a wizard from Hell and bring him into the real world..."

Neos understood his point. He couldn't guarantee that he could truly coerce a wily Hell wizard through sheer force or mental suppression, forcing them to serve the Crusaders obediently in a situation where they couldn't live or die, without resorting to suicidal tactics or secretly spreading false information while deciphering the code. These old monsters, who had lived for countless years, were incredibly cunning and capable of preserving their lives.

　The decryption work of Lu Yi'er once again fell into a desperate deadlock.

The entire Crusaders' top leadership was extremely worried about this. Various unrealistic plans were proposed and then rejected one by one.

Just when everyone felt at their wits' end, the roar of an airplane engine shattered the silence of the makeshift headquarters in the Carpathian Mountains. The support team from the New Antioch finally arrived, exhausted from the journey.

The size of this support force was not large, and its main task was to escort a group of special guests - the pilots who were forced to land in the Principality after bombing Jerusalem.

Because New Antioch had been under a frontal attack from Hell, it was only recently that it spared the energy to safely escort these long-stranded pilots back to the core area of ​​the European continent.

The commander in charge of this escort mission is a witch hunter general.

He was tall and burly, wearing a knee-length crimson robe with intricate emblems embroidered in gold thread along its edges. Beneath the robe lay a crimson metal breastplate and shoulder armor, with two K-shaped shields prominently printed on the shoulder armor.

He wore a hooded helmet and held a scepter inlaid with a gemstone. He exuded an unquestionable majesty and a murderous aura.

After hearing the news that the Hell Slate code had reached a stalemate, the general, who had been silent and observing his surroundings, suddenly shifted his gaze beneath the shadow of his helmet. He took a step forward, and for the first time, his deep, hoarse voice echoed through the headquarters' meeting room:

"About deciphering those infernal tablets...perhaps, I know something."

Everyone's eyes were focused on the new Antiochus General who had just spoken.

The witch hunter general didn't seem to mind the stares. "During the years I've been stationed at the walls of New Antioch and responsible for clearing out infiltration forces within the city, we've repeatedly encountered a very special group of Hell's troops. They are completely different from the other demonic legions bathed in blood and fire."

He paused, as if weighing his words.

"We named this faction the 'Church of Transfiguration' based on their combat methods, beliefs, and the forms of their believers."

"The Church of the Transfiguration?" A Crusader staff officer couldn't help but repeat it in a low voice. The name itself exuded a sense of weirdness and ominousness.

"Yes," the general confirmed, "They are very easy to distinguish from the hellish creatures we usually see. Because... all members of this sect are basically no longer human in the traditional sense."

His description made everyone present raise their eyebrows - this was not something earth-shattering, the Crusaders themselves also had a large number of units that were not in human form, and many times if the decorations such as the cross were removed, the style of the painting would not be much different from that of hell.

"Their appearance... is extremely disgusting, as if the product of a forced fusion of humans and some... giant insects under the most evil ritual. Some retain some twisted human limbs, but are covered with shells and compound eyes; others have completely abandoned their human form, becoming a writhing aggregation of countless tiny limbs and sticky tissue."

The general's voice remained silent.

"The most crucial point," he continued, "is that the Church of Transfiguration is not a militant order whose primary purpose is to kill and conquer. In fact, based on our numerous observations and a few... less-than-friendly interactions, they have even been forced to appear on the front lines of warfare against us humans."

They don't seem to be interested in direct physical conflict, but rather in battlefield debris, documents, and even some energy residues that we cannot understand."