Chapter 190: Chapter 182: The Fake

East Coast Province, central region, beside Sunrise Lake.

The sky was dim, and Irene gazed calmly at the distant village without speaking for a long time, as Lilian, who had grown into an adult, followed by her side.

Although Irene had reached middle age, her appearance had hardly changed at all. Byrne’s daughter, Lilian, was completely different.

She had grown tall quickly and had shed all her youthful immaturity; in fact, she was now half a head taller than Irene.

Lilian’s black hair was very flowing, exuding a more ethereal and shattered aura compared to Irene.

“Let’s go, Lilian, it’s just ahead.”

Irene’s voice came through, composed and restrained, as if she had seen through the ways of the world.

As evening fell, they approached the lakeside village wearing layered, solemn black robes with veils, in the slightly chilly weather.

Most of the houses in the village were made of mud and stone, many with cracked walls, their roofs covered in patchy, dilapidated straw, stained with mud and filth.

Within Irene and Lilian’s field of vision, not a single villager could be seen—as if they had vanished into thin air.

“Where have all the villagers gone?” asked Lilian.

Irene shook her head gently, looking towards the impoverished and dilapidated houses around them, then slowly said, raising her finger:

“Daybreakers have already come here to investigate in advance. The situation in this village is actually more complex than what you see. As His proxies, we must deal with what is happening here; we cannot neglect it.”

“I understand, Great Priest,” Lilian said, nodding softly.

The darkness deepened as they continued to walk through the deserted village, overgrown with weeds and slippery with moss, looking dangerous.

“Ding.”

With the sound of a bell, an elderly man dressed in grey clothes slowly emerged from a corner of the village.

His gaunt face was covered in wrinkles, suggesting he was over seventy years old, and his body trembled with each step he took, his murky eyes glaring like some wild beast.

The old man was dressed in very tattered grey clothes and held a strange black scepter in his hand, with a bell shaped like an eye hanging from it, looking exceptionally eerie.

“Please stop, are you here to participate in the ritual?” he asked.

Irene nodded lightly and said in a calm tone:

“Yes, we too are His followers, and we hope you can guide us on the right path; joining this ritual is our important wish.”

The old man from the shadows fell silent for a moment, then continued questioning:

“Where do you come from? You don’t seem to be from the nearby villages.”

Irene smiled slightly, answering calmly and genuinely:

“We hail from Fein City, not far from here. We came here heeding the call of the divine. I prayed to the great Lord in my dreams, and then I learned of the matters here.”

The old man smiled, nodded lightly, and accepted Irene’s request.

“Come with me.”

Lilian, who followed beside without a word, silently followed Aunt Irene; the two women followed the eerie old man to a cliff outside the village.

There, a huge bonfire was lit, crackling with flames. Behind the fire was a platform several meters high, and around the fire, hundreds of people had gathered.

Most of them were villagers from there, and some had come from nearby villages, their eyes flashing with bewilderment or fervor.

As soon as Irene and Lilian appeared, they immediately drew many gazes.

Although they were clad in black robes and their faces veiled, their distinct aura drew the eyes of many, unable to shift their gaze.

The old man holding the bell scepter gazed at Irene and Lilian and said, “Wait, for the ritual must begin at the right time.”

What followed was a long wait, as people anticipated the nightfall when the ritual would truly begin.

“Are you here to join, to join the ritual?”

A wolf-tailed girl dressed in villagers’ clothing, with silver hair, approached them, her brows furrowed in uncertainty as she asked.

Irene nodded lightly and said, “Indeed, that is so.”

The wolf-tailed girl appeared frail, but her demeanor was clearly different from that of the villagers.

After a moment of silence, she gave a serious warning: “I advise you it would be better to leave as soon as possible. You look… too valuable.”

“Dingling!”

The old man shook his scepter once more, the sound of the bell drawing everyone’s attention as the wolf-tailed girl quickly turned and left.

Everyone promptly knelt down, those by the bonfire showing great devotion, as if a very important personage was about to make an appearance.

Irene pulled Lilian down to kneel quietly on the ground, calmly waiting for what was to happen next.

About a dozen people in black robes and masks came from not far away, silently standing on top of the cliff, gazing down at the people kneeling below.

Among the many in black, the leader standing in the center passed by the blazing bonfire and walked calmly towards the platform, standing at the highest point and looking down on everyone.

“Praise the Lord of the Lost!”

His voice was muffled yet filled with authority, and the crowd below echoed with their own praises.

“Praise the Lord of the Lost!”

Lilian had wanted to speak out too, but Irene reached out a hand to stop her and shook her head gently, passing her thoughts to Lilian through Mental Speak.

[To praise our great Lord together with them is a desecration.]

Irene also noticed that not far away, the girl with the wolf tail did not openly praise but pretended to murmur softly, just skimming by.

The names of gods are meaningful; most dare not speak them lightly.

Yet, there are always some who, brazen and lacking in mystical knowledge, dare to deceive the masses in the name of divinity. They are usually rogue Extraordinary Exponents with little understanding of mysticism and lacking in reverence.

The leader on the platform continued speaking.

“The Lord of the Lost, who created the world, is our only sovereign and the origin of all extraordinary powers in the world. If you are devout enough, you may receive power from Him!”

“We are part of the great Lost Cult, and by joining our ranks, you will have the chance to be reborn!”

At the leader’s solemn and authoritative voice, the hundreds below were almost all stirred with excitement.

Obtaining the legendary extraordinary power was something everyone dreamed of!

Irene just silently watched the man’s performance, her gaze cold, without uttering a word.

Yet Lilian understood very well that Aunt Irene’s anger was blazing fiercely, and it was not just her; deep inside, Lilian felt furious as well.

That trash-like being was using the great divinity to scam others! An unforgivable act!

A person clothed in a black robe then approached the bonfire below the platform, removed his hood to reveal the face of a young man, and calmly looked at the people kneeling on the ground.

He spoke slowly, “I used to be just an ordinary farmer, just like you ignorant folks, oppressed by nobility every day, without any chance of resisting…”

“Numbed, living in a world as miserable as hell!”

“Until one day, I was called by the divine, came here, showed sufficient devotion, and followed the Great Priest in the sacrifice.”

“After that, the Lord of the Lost, the creator of the world, bestowed upon me mighty extraordinary power!”

The young man calmly outstretched his hand and the bonfire danced according to his will. Seeing the extraordinary power, people exclaimed in awe, wild with excitement.

He controlled the flames briefly and then let them return to their original state, speaking wearily to the crowd, “Thanks to the Lord of the Lost, creator of the world, I have been reborn, finally a re-created individual!”

“So, I used my power to make those who once oppressed me pay. I am no longer bound by the constraints of the false gods. And if you too wish to be like me, you must show even more devotion!”

“Ding!”

A bell rang.

An old man, holding a strange bell scepter, came over and skillfully collected the offerings. Everything was done voluntarily without any coercion.

The villagers seemed well acquainted with the process, but once they were swindled of anything valuable, they could only offer up what little food, heirlooms, and even their children they had, delivering them devoutly to the robed figures.

People hoped to gain real power from the divine to change their fates that seemed so set in stone.

And there were those who, unable to present offerings, unable to show devotion, could only cry in anguish.

Irene and Lilian silently observed this scene, neither of them intervening, both knowing deep down that it was not yet time.

Suddenly, the leader standing on the platform began to speak slowly, coldly addressing the crowd:

“There is a traitor among you.”

“The Lord of the Lost has granted me the eyes to see through betrayal, and one of you here has come to destroy the Lost Cult, a desecrator.”

“He says that this person must become the offering in this sacrifice, her soul atoning for her sins, or else we all shall be deemed guilty, no longer considered devout.”

The people became tumultuous, casting suspicious glances at each other, all wondering who the traitor was.

Gradually, more and more eyes turned towards Irene and Lilian, who dressed differently and were attending the sacrifice for the first time.

“Could it be them who have desecrated the Lord of the Lost!”

“It’s very likely them!”

“Shall we capture these two?”

Irene’s heart heard the malice of the crowd, yet she had long learned to remain calm. No matter how fierce those ignorant ones were, they simply couldn’t affect her.

She quietly observed the crowd’s gaze, then again looked towards the leader on the platform.

“No, it’s not them.”

The leader shook his head lightly and then extended a pallid, bloodless hand, pointing at the wolf-tailed girl.

“She’s from the Fein City Police Department, the evil lapdog of the gods and the church, the cruel henchwoman of the Extraordinary nobility!”

“Seize that girl! Offer her to the Lord of the Lost!”