Cursed Immortality

Chapter 1291: The Blasphemer!

Deep beneath the Undead Skyfall Canyons, the chained altar remained suspended within the endless abyss.

Billions of suppression runes continued to shine across its colossal surface, while the ancient chains stretched into the darkness, binding the God of Hollow Undead to the prison that had held him for countless ages.

The unlocking process was still underway, albeit slowly but steadily, and everything appeared to be proceeding according to plan. Yet the expression of the sealed God of Hollow Undead gradually changed.

At first, it was barely noticeable as the ghastly eyes beneath the altar’s countless layers of suppression opened slightly wider, and then his brows seemed to furrow.

The reason behind the change in his expression was that the sacrificial streams descending from above had become thinner, but only slightly. So slightly that an ordinary observer would never have noticed.

But the God of Hollow Undead was not an ordinary observer, as he had prepared this ritual for countless ages. He knew the amount of vitality gathered within every undead creature beneath his authority.

He knew how much faith had accumulated. He knew the amount of death, fear, Law fragments, and Undead Authority that should be entering the altar at every moment. He had calculated everything, and nothing had been left to chance. Yet the stream was declining.

His ghastly eyes narrowed. ‘Impossible.’

For a moment, he suspected that his senses had deceived him as he waited, and after a little while, the stream weakened again.

The atmosphere around the altar subtly changed as Alexandra, who had remained silent nearby, immediately noticed it. Even Destin Saint’s relaxed smile faded by a fraction.

The God of Hollow Undead’s voice finally echoed through the abyss, “Something is wrong.” His voice was unusually cold.

Destin Saint glanced toward him. “Hm?”

The God of Hollow Undead remained silent for several moments, seemingly examining the sacrificial formation through his Divine Temple, and then he spoke slowly.

“It seems the sacrifice isn’t enough.” His tone carried a trace of displeasure. “I calculated the accumulation over countless ages. The amount gathered should have been considerably greater than this.”

Destin Saint’s eyes flickered.

The Undead Skyfall continued, “Some of the sacrificial streams are also resisting.”

“Resisting?” Alexandra’s eyes narrowed.

The God of Hollow Undead didn’t answer immediately as his consciousness spread through the sacrificial formation, examining every connection. But nothing appeared broken, as the hidden formation itself remained intact.

The undead armies were still contributing, the Divine Temple was still functioning, and the countless faith connections were still flowing. Everything should have been proceeding perfectly. Yet, the amount reaching the prison was simply less than it should have been.

Destin Saint’s expression returned to its previous calm as he wasn’t particularly surprised. After all, even the God of Hollow Undead hadn’t considered the possibility of someone interfering with the ritual, and neither had he.

After all, this was a ritual personally designed by a God, encompassing an entire region, not to mention that it had been prepared over countless ages. Even if someone discovered its existence, how could they possibly obstruct it?

Not to mention, stealing the sacrificial power itself for that possibility was even more absurd.

Destin Saint glanced toward the ancient altar. “Perhaps the accumulation was simply less than you estimated.”

The God of Hollow Undead’s eyes remained cold. “Perhaps.”

But there was no conviction in his voice, as he knew his own calculations too well, which meant something was wrong, but he simply couldn’t identify what.

Destin Saint didn’t pursue the matter; instead, his gaze shifted toward the empty darkness above. “Speaking of which…”

He smiled faintly. “Where is your ‘guest’?”

The God of Hollow Undead was momentarily silent, and then he seemed to realize something. Indeed, the intruder had not entered while the passage to the Bone Citadel had already opened. The invitation had been extended, yet the so-called ‘guest’ hadn’t appeared.

A faint trace of disdain emerged in the Undead Skyfall’s voice: “Perhaps he was sensible enough not to come…”

He paused, but then his voice abruptly stopped as the atmosphere changed. The God of Hollow Undead’s consciousness had finally reached the Divine Temple above.

His perception swept through the Bone Citadel, the treasury, the ancient gate, the passage, and then his attention froze because the intruder was still there, and he hadn’t left, but he hadn’t entered either. He seemed to be simply standing before the passage…motionless.

Destin Saint noticed the sudden silence, and a faint smile seemed to have appeared on his faceless face. “Perhaps he’s not as foolish as we thought.”

The God of Hollow Undead ignored the remark as his attention remained fixed above. The intruder stood directly before the open passage, and somehow he was doing something. Something the God of Hollow Undead couldn’t immediately understand because he was still sealed.

At that moment, the altar trembled faintly as his cold voice echoed, “How long?”

Destin Saint looked toward him.

“How long until I am completely unsealed?”

The Fateless Celestial smiled as he replied, “Just a little longer.”

His gaze shifted toward the ancient lock.

“This lock is quite a piece of work. Even with the key, it’s taking its time to unlock.”

The transparent key had already disappeared, yet its authority remained embedded within the lock, slowly guiding the ancient mechanism through an unlocking process that transcended ordinary Laws.

Destin Saint watched it with some interest, and then he casually added, “If you’d like, I can lend you a hand and take care of the ‘guest’ outside.”

The response came without hesitation.

“No.” The God of Hollow Undead’s voice was cold. “I want to personally teach that blasphemer a lesson.”

Destin Saint’s eyebrows rose slightly as there it was, a faint trace of anger. He looked toward the altar with a knowing smile.

“It seems he somehow managed to piss you off.”

The God of Hollow Undead didn’t answer, but before he could say anything else, the sacrificial stream suddenly thinned again, and this time, it was obvious.

The enormous river descending from the Bone Citadel visibly weakened, and the atmosphere became still.

The God of Hollow Undead’s hidden expression changed because this wasn’t normal, and he could feel it now. His senses had become clearer as the unlocking process progressed, and for the first time, he could properly examine the sacrificial ritual itself.

The ritual was functioning perfectly, and the countless formations remained intact; the sacrifices were occurring exactly as intended; the faith connections were flowing; and the vitality was being harvested.

Nothing was wrong with the ritual. But then where was the missing power going?

The God of Hollow Undead’s consciousness followed the sacrificial river, tracing it backward. From the prison, to the Bone Citadel, through the hidden treasury, across the passage, and his perception suddenly froze.

His ghastly eyes widened as the missing power wasn’t disappearing, but it was being intercepted- and not somewhere in the formation, or outside, not even somewhere within the battlefield.

It was happening inside his Divine Temple, right there at the treasury, right where the intruder was standing!