The heretics, after the masked man gave his order, dispersed. Some were chatting. Some were piled together, moving up and down. Some stood alone, looking down on the world. Two “Lust” conduits, who looked almost normal, walked towards the side of the circular plaza. There was a small opening there, about the size of a human body. It seemed as if the heretics had opened it directly into the wall. A faint orange glow emanated from within, probably from a burning torch.

“… Can you keep up with those two?” Selene asked “Shadow Walker” next to her.

“I can, what do you want to do?” “Shadow Walker” frowned, a little confused. “Forgive me for saying this directly, but the two of us are absolutely no match for those people. We’ve already gathered a lot of information. You’re with the station. Shouldn’t we immediately head back?”

It’s a shame I’m not with the station. I’m just a private detective.

Selene smiled, reached out her hand, as if intending to pat his hair, but her hand was dodged in mid-air. She didn’t persist and pondered for a moment.

“Do you know what ‘envoy’ means?”

“What does that have to do with me… I don’t know. So?”

“Envoys are the followers of the deities, their comrades-in-arms, servants, blind believers, even objects. They are beings that are like gods, but not gods. In some rituals, they can also be invoked to request power or blessings… ” Selene explained, raising a corner of her mouth. “There are fourteen deities in total, and more than 180 known envoys. The deities rarely respond to rituals or prayers, but those 180 envoys, they might respond…”

“Shadow Walker” was a little confused. Although this knowledge was new to him, and he was somewhat curious, what did it have to do with what he had asked?

Selene said, “You’re not allowed to run away,” then tapped “Shadow Walker’s” forehead with her finger.

“You guess,” she said.

“Shadow Walker” glared at her, but he was completely unable to resist. He could only say in a low voice,

“You're just a first-tier. And is acting like a master…”

“As long as I stronger than you, it’s fine.” Selene waved her hand casually and issued her orders. “Catch up to those two. Confirm the status of the ‘sacrifices,’ and then return here.”

“Shadow Walker,” unwilling but unable to resist, quickened his pace. He agilely jumped down from the platform and hid behind the scattered pillars in the plaza. He silently followed the two heretics, who weren’t moving very quickly.

“Safe travels.” Selene said to “Shadow Walker,” then turned and jumped down from the platform, heading towards the exit.

None of the heretics, who were immersed in their desires, looked over. Their minds were occupied by the intense emotions and desires that poured from within them. The masked priest, who looked normal, was closer to the “Scholar of Sin” than his followers, and might even have become a superhuman by borrowing the Evil god’s power. He was probably the most completely mad among them. He was now mesmerized, gazing at the four decapitated corpses, stroking his sword repeatedly, his grip tightening, as if afraid that someone would take it away.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Selene glanced back at him, a suspicion forming in her mind. She didn’t slow her pace and continued walking to the statue of the “Guiding Doe.”

The “Guiding Doe” was an envoy of the Lord of Glory. Legend says that after the creation of the world by the four Primal Gods ended, the age of ancient darkness passed, and the sunlight of the Lord of Glory shone upon the world, and he was born in the first rays of the new world’s sun. He bore the ancestors of mankind, elves, dwarves, and beastmen on his body, protecting them from the sharp thorns of the earth. And after the thorns disappeared, he used his blood to create rivers, and his flesh to create mountains, to block the cold winds and provide water for all the races…

The ancient creation myth happened an immeasurable time ago. Even now, besides the Divine Glory Church, which worships the Lord of Glory and his envoys, only the elves widely worship this “Envoy of Offerings and Sacrifice.”

The elves, who live in the vast western forests of the Divine Construct, have worshiped the “Guiding Doe” since the early Fourth Era. Over ten thousand years, they accumulated countless religious texts and rituals. Most of these elaborate and complex rituals are merely ceremonial practices, but a small fraction of them are actually effective. This knowledge has always been passed down within the elves. Only a small number of other races who have been recognized by the elves have access to it.

And, conveniently, Selene had an elven friend.

She stopped in front of the “Guiding Doe” statue and reached into her bag, taking out a candle and two vials of essential oil. Is it really so unreasonable for a “Ritual Magician” to carry ritual supplies?

She rubbed her left thumb and middle finger together. A small flame ignited from her fingertips—in mysticism, the left hand represents light, and the thumb and middle finger represent fire and mana. She used the flame to light the candle, placing it at eye level. Her gaze was fixed directly on the flickering flame.

She imagined that the flame was actually a branch of the “Guiding Doe’s” horns; she imagined that the wind that could extinguish this flame was actually the dazzling brilliance, filling the entire world; she imagined it burning bigger and bigger, shining as brightly as the sun, able to pierce through any obstruction, including her flesh and bones…

She whispered,

“I invoke the Guiding Doe, envoy born of sunlight, envoy of radiant sacrifice—the Doe of Offering and Sacrifice!

“I understand. My life is wax, my life is flame. I am both fire and light. I offer my fire and light. I offer my grace. I offer my compassion. I will illuminate the darkness. I offer myself…”

The statue of the “Guiding Doe” seemed to tremble slightly for a moment. Those compassionate red eyes seemed to look at her. A heavy pressure bore down upon her mind, then vanished in a flash. A burning horn seemed to appear in front of Selene, as if bearing countless candles.

“… Please watch over my sacrifice, until I call your name again.”

Softly ending the prayer, Selene took a deep breath, then drew her dagger, applying two vials of essential oils—Eternal Bloom and Sun Daisy—to the blade. Then she slowly used it to cut her skin near her clavicle. She didn’t press down hard. The wound wasn’t deep, but blood still flowed out, staining a large area of her chest.

Then, Selene used the blood-stained dagger to cut her ten fingertips, the palms of her hands, and both sides of her face. These cuts were clean and straight, and blood flowed down from the wounds like steps on a staircase.

She felt the pain from the wounds, but the corner of her mouth curled up into a smile.

“Let me teach you brainless cultists something. You can’t just choose any place to perform a ritual. You can’t just arrange it anyhow. And you can’t just randomly add images of saints…”

Otherwise, you’ll end up making wedding clothes for someone else.

For example, a “Ritual Magician.”