Chapter 184: Ritual

The strange humming emanating from the pyramid echoed throughout Naska City, and the square golden barrier barred all creatures from entering or leaving.

The heavy rain from the sky was cut off by the pyramid's barrier, and the frantic Nikesalan people regained their senses; the newly awakened them immediately realized that countless monsters and corpses crowded around them, greedily devouring the brains of the corpses.

The refugees had no choice but to keep running toward the pyramid at the city's center, while tens of thousands of monsters trailed them like shepherd dogs urging a flock.

In the city's center, before the pyramid.

A strangely carved obelisk stood silently in the square, its base surrounded by bizarre brain reliefs and tentacle‑like carvings; the front of the obelisk bore a hollow nearly a foot tall, within which floated a red energy sphere.

Tazika's Great Shaman—Kusko stood at the front of the obelisk, dressed in formal ritual divine garb. Shamans gathered around, their vivid feathers linked together, gold and silver shimmering in a cascade of light.

A strange azure ripple rippled through the air, and Tichisi emerged, swaying like a willow branch, delicate anklets resembling black pearls bearing two strings of softly jingling bells.

"Heh heh heh." The woman covered her mouth and giggled softly, her emerald‑like eyes flashing with a hint of anticipation.

"Fifty thousand brain‑hunting demons have already surged into the city; is the sixth pyramid finished?" she asked softly.

Kusko shook his head, closed his eyes, and said calmly, "Not yet."

Tichisi's expression darkened: "Didn't I tell you the Harmony Greenfield ritual must be restored? Without the ritual's aid, if any accident were to occur—"

"What accident could there be?" Kusko cut in coldly. "With the protection of the Tazika Hymn, no one can break through. But I must ask you, what happened outside the city? Why did so many brain‑hunting demons suddenly die? Even several great brain‑hunting demons perished; do you know the offerings were almost insufficient!"

Tichisi's face grew grim: "A red dragon from Dilon Volcano suddenly appeared, accompanied by several odd shamans from other continents; they used strange dark arts to kill many brain‑hunting demons."

"No need to worry, the red dragon is still outside; they can't get in." Tichisi looked toward the distant sky, and indeed the red dragon and Saifar and others were being held back outside.

Kusko snorted coldly and fell silent; he hadn't expected any trouble, and his objection to Tichisi stemmed merely from displeasure at the questioning tone at the outset.

All are Great Shamans; who can claim to be more noble than the other?

—

After a night of slaughter, dawn quickly rose from the horizon.

In the dim light, the fleeing crowd pursued by monsters scrambled through the ruined streets. Among the crumbling walls at the corners, the former splendor had vanished, leaving only the will to survive driving them to run desperately. Women's screams, children's cries, and the monsters' heavy footfalls intertwined into an apocalyptic symphony.

Yet amid the chaos and panic, a Mage stood out markedly. He wore a black robe, his steps unhurried, as if the clamor mattered not to him. The Mage's handsome face, his flowing silver hair lifted in the air like a spider's web under the influence of mana, and he grasped an intricately carved white wooden staff, its gem‑tipped head emitting a faint blue glow in the dim light.

Around him, a magical barrier rippled outward, and any monster that approached seemed to meet an invisible shield and fled. The Mage did not rush to cast powerful spells; when needed, a gentle swing of his staff dispelled pursuers, and he walked through the chaos at ease.

"Look! That person—those monsters won't dare approach that person!" many refugees fleeing the ordeal observed.

They were both grateful and curious toward the Mage, yet dared not disturb him, only whispering prayers for protection as they passed.

The Mage gave a barely perceptible nod, elegantly and calmly waved his staff, released the permission of the Anti‑Biological Force Field, allowing the refugees near him to gain entry.

Under the spell's protection, more and more refugees followed the Mage, forming a massive crowd. The monsters, unable to approach and unwilling to expend effort, instead quickened their run toward the city center.

"Lord Shaman, thank you for saving us," a middle‑aged woman said gratefully to Naimi Xisi.

He continued staring into the distance, indifferent, and said, "Turn back, return to the city's edge; that's the safest place."

The monsters had already closed in on the city center, making the previously most dangerous outskirts now happen to be the safest spot.

Naimi Xisi had originally intended to sweep the crowd and hide within it, but after thinking, he abandoned the plan.

Once combat began, with his and the obelisk's power, there would likely be no living beings left nearby.

Many, convinced by Naimi Xisi's rescue, hesitated a moment upon hearing this, then without further words walked in the opposite direction.

But human nature is suspicious; more people, instead, harbored malice, deeming him an evil heretic, for otherwise why would they claim the great pyramid's location to be dangerous?!

This is an act of contempt toward the symbols of the gods!

Yet they dared not leave Naimi Xisi's protection, merely hiding their poisonous thoughts, shamelessly lingering within the Anti‑Biological Force Field.

Regarding this outcome, Naimi Xisi was indifferent; a smirk curled his lips, and in his mind he had already sentenced these people to death.

"Heaven has a path you won't take, yet you insist on following me to be delivered?"

Since people are courting death to this degree, Naimi Xisi naturally would not concern himself with their lives.

!

Soon, the remaining few hundred, sweeping along with Naimi Xisi, reached the edge of the square before the pyramid.

The terrifying monsters were now crowded ahead, inching inward.

Naimi Xisi narrowed his eyes, and through the chaos perceived the scene at the center of the monster horde.

The red spirit sphere at the obelisk's core had become a crimson vortex; the monsters, as if bereft of reason, each touched the vortex and were wholly devoured, turning into nourishment for the sacrifice.

"Indeed, you intend to sacrifice these monsters to summon the existence of the Distant Realm? Whose idea is this? The gods? They actually lure a dark deity here?" Naimi Xisi frowned.

The so‑called Distant Realm, he has never found any record of it in any text, except within the underground city's Psionic Tower—on the already‑destroyed obelisk, as if every trace of it in the world had been wiped away.

Sometimes, Naimi Xisi even doubts his own memory is confused.

The only thing he is certain of—that if the world represented by the Distant Realm truly exists, it must be an existence independent of the Magic Net Multiverse.

It lies beyond the void beyond which even the gods cannot cross.

(End of Chapter)