Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 826: 823: The Burial

Chapter 826: Chapter 823: The Burial

Under the cover of nightfall, countless figures cloaked in black silently made their way towards the same direction, the twilight glow from some unseen dimension illuminated their night-like robes, casting a phantasmal light around these towering apparitions as they walked across the desolate plains, gradually converging into rivers of dusk flowing through the darkness—until at last, these rivers of dusk reached the center of the Wilderness of Death, encircling the funeral proceedings there.

There stood a gate, its triangular doors silent and solemn. At first, Duncan even mistook it for a small hill, but in the blink of an eye, he found himself near that door, seeing it tower magnificently high like a vertical stretch of land, while the triangular center remained firmly closed, with dark red lines like veins covering the door, binding it in chains.

The order of death was locked behind this gate, and now the deity who had locked it sat quietly on the throne in front of the gate—He was taller than Duncan had imagined, even surpassing Tarrikin, towering even while seated, his form almost as large as a house.

He was clad in a tattered black robe as dark as the night, outside of which writhed dark red thorns, and beneath the shadow of the robe there was no face to be seen, as if He had never had one to begin with, and only a shadowy outline could be discerned under the robe—just as described in the sacred scripture of the Death Church:

Death is a faceless shadow, hidden within a cloak called darkness, ever-present, and when you see Him, He too sees you.

But now the faceless shadow of death had died, His chest pierced by a twisted and sharp dagger resembling an alien thorn, almost nailing Him to the somber throne, His hood tilted to one side, as if in His last moments, He looked back at the door representing the order of life and death.

This scene was akin to murder, except the murderer was the victim himself.

This was the most unique spectacle among the “Gods who had died”—at the end of death and decay, Bartok performed upon Himself a second “slaughter.”

Numerous twilight-clad apparitions stood around the door, silent and still like frozen tombstones, motionless, yet among them was a small path as if deliberately left for visitors, leading from the wilderness straight to the somber throne.

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