Chapter 688: Descent (Part 2)
"Huh?"
The first sound was a dumbfounded gasp.
A reaction expressing disbelief at what was unfolding before her eyes.
"Huh...?"
The second sound followed, signaling reluctant acknowledgment.
Although she couldn't believe it, her eyes forced her to accept it.
"Huh...-aaaaaaah!"
Once her mind fully grasped the situation, Sister Della hugged her broken arm tightly and screamed in agony.
Her shriek mirrored the excruciating pain that belatedly assaulted her.
It was clear why.
Her arm wasn’t just broken—it had bent backward at the elbow, as if someone with malicious intent had purposely twisted it.
"Aaaaaaaah..."
With horror mingling in her groans, Sister Della scanned her surroundings, as if she suspected something.
And she saw them.
The resurrected sisters, now lost to her control, were praying.
"...yoshijibeoarihuhanlugkeoshinke..."
Dozens of corpses, twisted together, were kneeling on numerous knees, with multiple hands clasped together, and multiple mouths reciting prayers.
But that wasn’t all.
The nuns who had previously been frozen in place, trapped in ice, had somehow freed themselves, kneeling, hands joined in prayer, their lips moving in unison.
"...dainaaheulmanaeuldanjeiduldaarige, myeosiulgieorisourie..."
Yet something felt off.
All fifty-five nuns in the chamber appeared to be looking to their sides, as if something were there.
That wasn’t the only strange thing.
Their trembling hands, their rigid mouths… everything about them felt forced, as if they were moving against their own wills.
And it wasn’t just a feeling.
"Huh..."
Slowly, Sister Della began to see it.
Something hazy was kneeling beside each nun, gripping their arms, and whispering prayers into their ears.
That something was darkness—a shadow in the shape of a human.
The shadow leaned close to each nun’s ear, murmuring the prayer.
"...seosojunirenariwiureoldo..."
The nuns recited it, matching the words exactly, without a trace of their own will.
"Aaaah..."
Seeing it with her own eyes, Della let out an even more pitiful moan than before.
For she alone understood what would come next.
She knew the decision the Duchess had made.
The sacrifice had been switched.
From the girls to the nuns, the vessel meant to bear the demon’s descent had changed.
Bang!
The moment she grasped the truth, an icy mass rose from where the nuns stood.
A familiar shape.
The ice, crafted through the spirit’s power, mirrored the altar Kevin had shattered earlier, down to the engravings and scratches on the nuns’ gravestones.
Sssssss…
A chill ran down Della’s spine as she instinctively looked at Kevin, hoping against all odds.
But that hope shattered as quickly as all the hopes she had harbored throughout her life.
The red-skinned warlock wore a look of utter confusion and fear, as if he, too, couldn’t comprehend what was happening.
He wasn’t the one controlling it.
The power over the ice covering the underground had slipped from his grasp long ago.
This was evidenced by the fact that, despite Kevin’s inaction, a pattern automatically etched itself into the center of the icy altar.
An upside-down crown in the middle of a circle.
Kevin stared, equally shocked.
Something felt wrong.
Kevin’s gaze missed her slightly, focusing just off to the side...
Right next to Della herself.
Reading that gaze, Della stiffly turned her head, like a broken wooden puppet, and she saw them.
Darkness in human form surrounding her.
"...niosaesagaakneoruewiselsonrogu..."
These shadows, with mouths dark as pitch, were chanting the prayer, reaching out toward her.
Della attempted to say something to them in the brief moment she had...
Crack!
...but they twisted her neck in an instant.
...
Crack!
The sound of something snapping echoed.
With disturbing nonchalance, as if it meant nothing.
Yet everyone who witnessed the scene reacted in horror.
Seeing Della’s neck twisted by the shadows, struggling yet unable to die...
The nuns, gripped by the shadows and reciting prayers, couldn’t scream. But they wept, mourning Della’s death.
Or perhaps they were terrified of the fate that awaited them.
Regardless, Della’s death shocked the nuns. But they were not the only ones struck by horror.
Kevin and Joanna, who had been opposing Della, were also silent.
"..."
"..."
Both stood, stunned into silence by the sight of Della’s broken neck.
And she still clung to life.
"Hk... hk..."
With her neck snapped, she couldn’t scream, but the bloodied tears streaming down her face told them she was still alive.
A pitiful sight.
But mercilessly, the darkness surrounding her continued to break her body.
Crack!
Starting with her remaining arm, bending it backward.
Crack!
Then twisting her leg joints.
Crunch-!
Breaking her shoulder and pelvis...
As if compressing her entire body.
What struck them most was her face.
The gruesome pain, terror, and regret that had distorted her expression softened, twisted into a serene look by the shadows’ hands, until it resembled that of a gentle nun once again.
But despite the transformation, the nuns, Joanna, and Kevin felt nothing but an indescribable unease, discomfort, and fear.
Such alien, grotesque terror.
It was a paradoxical sensation—as though they were facing benevolent malice.
Her face, crushed and twisted, wore a peaceful expression, yet she emitted an unsettling feeling of kindness tainted with cruelty.
An evil laden with grace. It was as if...
Whoosh!
The torches illuminating the chamber flickered wildly.
At that moment, the nuns stopped their prayers in unison and rose.
The prayer now resounded from the corpses and skeletons of nuns long deceased, surrounding the nuns and offering prayer as one.
"...seosohengureson, goseohamyeoreul-akdeunmo, eoshihageropsaesange..."
Though the living nuns ceased praying, the sound of the prayer grew louder instead of softer, amplified by countless shapes appearing in the shadows where the torchlight couldn’t reach.
Rrrrip!
The sound of something tearing filled the chamber.
All the nuns, without anyone noticing, had stripped themselves of the black habits symbolizing their station, standing naked as on the day they were born.
It was an obscene scene, yet none displayed any sign of reaction.
Not Kevin or Joanna, nor the nuns themselves.
They were far too consumed by fear to feel shame.
The dead nuns surrounded the living ones, joining in prayer alongside the shadows.
"...kkejibeohashinigen hanungeojoneung..."
Matching the prayer’s rhythm, the nuns moved toward the altar.
Against their own will...
Trembling with fear, they hugged each other gently in their vulnerable state, drawing closer, and then...
Snap... squelch!
Bone-breaking and flesh-ripping sounds filled the air...
Crack! Crunch!
Their bodies started merging.
Broken bone connected to broken bone.
Torn skin sealed against torn skin.
Shattered flesh fused with shattered flesh.
Burst blood vessels interlinked.
Their blood mingled into one.
The nuns became one.
Not just one or two, but all fifty-six nuns, including Della, wrapped around one another.
It was both horrifying and beautiful.
In this way, the nuns sprayed blood and flesh in all directions, transforming into a giant, blood-red clay mass. Their flesh and hair were dyed deep red from the blood seeping through.
Squish! Crack! Crunch!
The fifty-six merged nuns began to shape themselves into a new form, all while the haunting prayer continued.
"...dainiaoprideucheonggan-eulgeotjulryeonaereu-eoldo..."
Boom!
A powerful, resonant prayer reverberated through the chamber, as Kevin, snapping back to his senses, unleashed a spell to attack the corpses of the nuns surrounding him.
The bodies that had lain dormant for centuries shattered effortlessly under the force of Kevin’s ice pillar, clearing a path.
Without pausing to consult Joanna, Kevin lifted her over his shoulder and dashed toward the exit.
He couldn’t be certain, but based on Merlin’s teachings, he had a rough idea of what was happening.
Although Sister Della's ritual had failed, the ritual itself hadn’t completely failed.
As absurd as it sounded, it was true.
For the ritual of summoning a demon, the demon’s own will was the most essential component.
No matter how meticulously the ritual was performed, it would be futile if the demon did not respond.
Conversely, even if the ritual’s form was distorted, it would succeed as long as the demon wished it.
In essence, the role of the ritualist had shifted from Della to the demon itself.
Unreasonable as it was, that was the reality.
And in facing this perverse reality, it was clear that the demon now intended to descend into this world of its own accord.
Using the nuns and the girls as sacrifices.
The spirit, vanishing in terror, served as proof of that.
This was no longer within Kevin’s control... or any mortal’s, for that matter.
Hence, Kevin chose to flee. It seemed almost pointless, but standing still and waiting to die was not an option.
He had to escape, as far as he could, before the demon fully descended into this world...
—"Would you stop right there?"
The abrupt telepathic message froze him mid-step. Kevin, who had halted instinctively at the voice, found himself unable to move.
It wasn’t just the voice stopping him—it was something far more direct and absolute, seizing his body in place along with the air itself.
An Authority.
A power distinct from any magic or dark magic known to humans.
A power only possessed by beings beyond humanity.
The proof lay in Kevin’s helpless struggle to resist, his veins bulging as he fought, yet his body utterly unresponsive, obeying the command instead.
He was allowed only one option: to turn back to his original place, and Kevin decided to comply.
With only one choice, there was no other path forward. Facing it head-on seemed preferable.
A lesson from childhood.
Lowering Joanna to the ground, Kevin turned to face the altar where the nuns had gathered.
There, a naked woman sat upon a grotesque beast constructed from the flesh of fifty-six merged nuns—a twisted, unnatural form.
The beast’s legs were crafted from multiple nuns’ arms and legs intertwined...
Its belly and chest from the nuns’ torsos...
Its tail from strands of their hair...
Its flanks from the nuns’ praying upper bodies...
Its humped back from the nuns’ backs...
And its head from the face of a nun.
The beast, built entirely from the nuns’ bodies, was both disturbingly grotesque and perversely beautiful, holding one’s gaze captive despite the horror.
Yet even this monstrosity paled compared to the woman riding atop it.
Centered around the horrifically twisted form of Della, the woman, comprised of naked, blood-stained nuns, stared down at Kevin and Joanna, her tangled hair cascading over her face.
She looked at them through Della’s eyes.
Her gaze exuded a peculiar blend of warmth and malice, like someone admiring a small puppy with affectionate cruelty. This was it—the kindness of malice.
Too foreign to elicit empathy, too overpowering in its one-sided, merciless generosity.
It was like a human looking down on a dog.
However, neither Kevin nor Joanna felt a trace of humiliation.
The cold, brutal charity emanating from the woman above them was not arrogance; it was rooted in unshakable fact.
All Kevin and Joanna could do, even as they were overcome with fear, was remain standing, refusing to kneel, keeping their guard up.
At least maintaining their dignity and pride.
The woman atop the beast noticed this and gave them a sly smile. She raised a finger, placing it over her lips, as if to signal no harm.
Then, in a mockery of shyness, she placed one hand over her chest, as if feigning modesty.
"Oh, my... How embarrassing. It has been so long since I’ve been here that I seem to have forgotten proper manners."
Her voice echoed telepathically as she spoke.
And with that, all the ice that had covered the underground chamber shattered into pieces, revealing the original layout of the nunnery basement.
The shattered ice fragments swirled around her head, gathering into a storm before coming together above her.
With the ice gone, the golden thread, lace, and spilled ointment returned to their original state, merging into the torn habits laid before her.
“To meet Him, one must observe proper decorum.”
As she mentioned ‘Him,’ the discarded habits of the nuns fused into a single massive gown.
An elaborate, regal gown fit for royalty.
The dress, passing through her body, settled upon her, cloaking her naturally. Shimmering with golden thread, it glittered like starlight against the black fabric of the nun’s habit, transformed into a resplendent gown of gleaming gold with pure white lace trimming its edges.
Complete, the gown was an astonishing sight.
A delicate layer of ointment spread over the fabric, perfecting her new attire.
Thus adorned, the woman atop the beast took the collected ice fragments into her hands, setting them atop her head.
The ice sparkled, scattering like shimmering powder as it shaped itself into a crown.
An ice crown.
Arms of the nuns jutted from the crown like horns, forming a symbol above her head, completing the crown’s unsettling design.
Seeing her, Kevin and Joanna instinctively understood without needing explanation.
The demon had fully descended into the mortal realm.
“Feels a bit cramped in here, doesn’t it?”
Now that she was wholly present in this world, the demon spoke aloud.
She raised a single finger, and in that instant, the underground tomb and all within it soared upward, breaking through to the surface and tearing apart the nunnery above.
A cloud of dust exploded aboveground as she burst forth, wreaking havoc on everything around her.
And in the midst of it all, the woman atop the grotesque beast sighed contentedly.
"Ah, how refreshing."