Born to Be Rebellious [Quick Transmigration]

38

    When Paladin reached that place, only cold moon shining on the empty spot was left.

    But the dark element that was so strong that it almost dripped down did not dissipate. The gloomy and sticky feeling pressed heavily on everyone’s chests, clogging their throats like cotton, making people instinctively scared.

    The leading knight slowly stepped forward, and the silver reflective armour on his body made heavy metal clashes with his steps. He bent down and picked up the hand cut off in half from the grass with his iron gloves.

    The hand was pale and stiff, the nails were dark, the cut section was smooth and flat, and even the severed muscles and bones were visible. The dark purple blood has partially solidified, and under the moonlight it looked pitch-black and thick like asphalt.

    At the first glance, it was clear that it wasn’t from a human being.

    The knight wrapped it up carefully and stood up.

    His face was sombre and his expression ugly, as he said: “Withdraw.”

    This severed hand was placed in a dark wooden box sent to the Temple of Light in the center of the empire without stopping all day and night, and was finally presented to the head priest.

    The head priest seemed to be a hundred years old.

    He looked at the stiff fingers, and his voice was slow and heavy: “The thing I worried about the most has happened.”

    All the people around him held their breath, waiting for next words.

    “The demons finally found a way to break through the seal.”

    The head priest raised his wrinkled hand, and with short but powerful chanting, runes of the spell appeared in mid-air, and a scene began transmitting in front of everyone.

    “During this time, we caught three necromancers.”

    A miserable howl came from the transmission, resounding through the empty hall, mixed with vague whispers and words of confessions.

    “They have already confessed the plan of the demons .”

    The priest’s voice sounded aged and majestic:

   “Look for a human named Ge Xiu with all their strength – regardless of all costs, life or death.”

    ·

    When Ge Xiu opened his eyes, he didn’t know where he was.

    The space there was so vast that it was impossible to tell whether it was a cave or a palace for a while. The surrounding area was full of dark, hard, smooth rocks, which were cut into flat walls, with countless intricate lines and patterns carved on them. There were countless naturally formed fluorescent gems above his head, which illuminated the place and made it as bright as in daylight.

    Ge Xiu jumped off the high stone bed, paced slowly to the wall, and carefully examined the mural above.

    The mural was very long, and the most distant ones had become eroded and blurred from time. They seem to had been passed on from generation to generation. The text looked extremely old, the twisted lines combining to form a language that had long been extinct and forgotten with time. Ge Xiu couldn’t read it, he could only recognize the drawings carved on the side, that depicted a group of giant wolves with wings on their backs. Those primitive carvings extended up to the darkness at the top of the wall, they seemed to portray the destiny of each wolf, and each created branch told their story, and then it broke off somewhere in the distance.