Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 420 - 420 424 Ritual Ceremony Field

?Chapter 420: Chapter 424 Ritual Ceremony Field Chapter 420: Chapter 424 Ritual Ceremony Field Now, only she was left here.

Agatha slowly diverted her gaze from the lantern beside her, turned her back on Governor Winston left alone in the chilling and tranquil darkness, and walked towards the “branches” intertwined endlessly in the vast space, towards that vast canopy of thorns like the firmament of heaven and earth.

A not-so-bright lantern hung at her waist, her right hand gripped the cane that had accompanied her for many years in her memory, and her left hand still clutched the brass key from Winston—the key was no longer icy cold but carried a warmth as if it was a body temperature, as if it was slowly merging with her own body.

But Agatha no longer paid attention to any changes in her body.

She just strode through the darkness, feeling the solid forward movement of her body, knowing that as long as the surrounding chaos hadn’t completely swallowed and assimilated her, there was a need to press on.

She sought solid ground to step on in the void, and each time she took a step, the ground appeared like a path in the darkness; she searched for a way out in the thicket of thorns where narrow openings could often be found amid the crisscrossing branches.

The sharp “thorns” quickly tore through her clothes. The dense “fabric” was as fragile as loose ash and mist before the thrusting thoughts of the ancient gods, falling pieces congealed into moving black droplets in the darkness, merging into the path underfoot while she occasionally touched sparks that danced and roamed between the thorns—when she touched these glimmers, she could almost distinctly feel something drilling into her brain.

That was the thought of the ancient god, a whisper from The Saint deep in the abyss—without any malice, not even a complete intention, but the briefest spark of thought was still dazzling and piercing to the frail mortals, like a brilliant giant candle in the darkness of night.

Another cluster of dim flashes was swiftly transmitted from afar, sliding past her field of vision along the pitch-black thorny branches. A strand of Agatha’s hair intersected with that flash, and in the one-hundredth of a second, new “knowledge” emerged in her mind—
111010011001101110000110…111001111011111010100100…

Agatha couldn’t comprehend the messages conveyed by these sparks—just as Winston had said to her, do not attempt to fathom the thoughts of ancient gods.

That would drive one mad.

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