Chapter 3
Pain.
Intense pain!
When Charlo regained consciousness, she found herself hanging on a metal cross, with huge iron nails piercing through the palms of her hands and her crossed feet.
A steady flow of blood, like a small stream, trickled down the cross, filling the grooves carved into the ground.
Through the dim crimson moonlight filtering through the skylight, Charlo, enduring the pain, could make out an intricate circular pattern centered around the cross that resembled the magic arrays in novels, surrounded by living corpses dressed as maids and servants.
Countess Castel stood in the front, emitting an aura that sent shivers of terror.
She faced Charlo, holding in her hands a blood-red torn page, seemingly ripped from some ancient tome.
Seeing Charlo slowly waking up, the Countess flashed a smile revealing two sharp teeth.
“My darling, you’re awake,” she said.
A heavy sinking feeling settled in Charlo’s heart.
Being hung on a cross was definitely not a good situation.
Combining the clearly dubious magic array beneath her with the surrounding living corpses, apparently engaged in some sort of prayer, Charlo, who was well-read in online fiction, guessed that she was probably being used as some sort of offering.
This world… was nothing like a normal otherworldly realm!
Charlo’s mind raced as she sniffled, tears falling like shiny pearls, leaving curved trails on her delicate and pretty face.
“M-m-mother…”
She whimpered, looking at Countess Castel with eyes that were vulnerable, pitiful, and helpless, like a tiny creature.
Confronted with that pitiful look that inspired sympathy even from the monstrous Countess Castel, there was a brief pause in the terrifying aura projected from her.
But soon, her gaze grew profound.
Her crimson eyes shimmered slightly as her greedy gaze slowly swept over Charlo’s body.
“What a captivating little fairy; it’s a pity not to keep you as a charm blood servant,” she said.
She then opened her vicious mouth wide, taunting like a hunter mocking its prey.
“Poor little thing, it’s time… to stop pretending.”
“Little Charlo has long perished; you are nothing but the Saint True Spirit from the Holy Royal Court summoned for the final bloodline sacrifice ritual.”
“Hehe… Offering the Saint True Spirit as a sacrifice, I’m sure my master will be quite pleased!”
The secret of her crossing was exposed, causing Charlo’s heart to tighten.
But it also brought a hint of confusion.
The Saint True Spirit of the Holy Royal Court?
What on earth is that?
Seeming to remember something, Charlo’s heart stirred.
She quickly stopped sobbing and said briskly,
“Grandmother, no, Countess Castel, I think… there might be some misunderstanding between us…”
However, the old woman lost interest in continuing the conversation and shook her head mockingly.
“Misunderstanding? Heh, pointless struggle.”
With that, she pulled out a filthy cross from her chest and aimed it at the girl hanging midair.
Her ancient, insane voice trembled slightly with a frantic and ferocious look.
“Come forth, Holy Spirit! Let me savor the sight of your light succumbing to corruption and your expressions twisted in agony!”
A deep radiance burst forth from the cross, carrying a chaotic and evil aura.
Under the cruel gaze of Countess Castel, the filthy light shone upon Charlo.
“Scream! Wail! Feel… the pain and despair as you succumb to darkness!”
Trouble!
The sight of the evil halo that made one feel nauseous was enough to tighten Charlo’s heart.
Shocked and angry, unable to dodge, she could only turn her head away and clench her teeth with her eyes shut.
The chaotic light enveloped the girl like filth descending upon the world.
However, the expected agony did not come.
Apart from feeling slightly chilly and hearing incessant, deep, mad murmurs in her ears, Charlo’s body didn’t experience any discomfort.
Hmm?
She cautiously opened her eyes.
Countess Castel, still fervently holding up the filthy cross, her expression extremely ferocious.
The cross flickered darkly, its oppressive power immense, engulfing everything.
The basement was deep and cold, as if plunging into an abyss.
But beyond that…
Nothing happened.
Charlo looked somewhat confused.
Though she didn’t speak, her expression, a mix of bafflement and relief, seemed to question what was going on.
The old woman was also stunned.
Her brows furrowed slightly, she examined the filthy cross repeatedly, trying to figure out what was wrong.
After scrutinizing it for a while, she furrowed her brows, raised the cross again, and this time chanted with more insanity.
“Scream! Beg for mercy! Cry out in despair under the light of corruption!”
The deep radiance blossomed again, enveloping Charlo with an even more chaotic and evil aura than before.
However, this time.
Still, nothing happened…
Charlo: …
Countess: …
Their eyes met.
The atmosphere was slightly awkward.
In an instant, the old woman’s expression turned fierce; terrifying magic power erupted like a volcano:
“Why! Why is there no divine light on you?! Why hasn’t the light of corruption decayed you?!”
The tsunami-like oppressive force surged and roared, bringing unprecedented pressure to the