Cursed Immortality

Chapter 1263: A Seeker Before Faith

After the meeting ended, the Myth of Reverend returned to his private chamber alone.

The moment the doors closed behind him, the warmth on his face slowly faded, the harmless smile disappeared, the playful light in his eyes dimmed, and what remained was solemnity.

For a long time, the Myth of Reverend stood in silence, and then suddenly, he raised his right hand. Thereafter, intricate glyph-like markings appeared across his wrist and forearm, resembling an ancient tattoo.

The next moment, the intricate glyph-like markings seemed to come alive and compress around his wrist, forming the shape of a golden blue bracelet.

Once the bracelet was fully formed, it seemed to be forged from translucent golden-blue crystal, with countless ancient glyphs drifting across its surface like living creatures. It resembled a serpent biting its own tail, and where the serpent’s mouth met its tail, an exquisite hourglass connected the two ends.

Within the exquisite hourglass, ethereal golden-blue sands flowed endlessly, neither increasing nor decreasing as though time itself were trapped inside.

The Myth of Reverend gently touched the bracelet, and with deep reverence, as if praying, he uttered, “This faithful seeks the guidance of Everlife from beyond and above! Open!”

The next moment, the crystalline serpent seemed to awaken from its slumber, and the next, it slowly uncoiled from his wrist and hovered silently in front of him.

Thereby, the endlessly flowing golden-blue sand within the exquisite hourglass seemed to have halted, and a blinding ethereal golden-blue light flashed.

The next moment, the chamber vanished, or rather, it folded away. Space stretched silently, the walls dissolved into golden-blue mist, and the floor beneath his feet transformed into a vast circular platform suspended in darkness.

Countless threads of light extended from the platform into the void, each thread pulsing like a prayer sent from an unseen believer.

At the center of the platform stood the same sacred room with black stone pillars, dim golden-blue flames, the translucent crystal altar, and upon that altar, the Trace Faith Idol.

The veiled humanoid statue remained motionless, its halo of countless hourglass symbols rotating in solemn silence. Before it rested a chalice, empty but still carrying the faint fragrance of Godly Faith Nectar.

Normally, Myth Reverend would not reveal this place so casually and approach it with confidence, sometimes with amusement, and sometimes with devotion hidden beneath theatrics.

But this time was different; this time, he walked slowly and carefully, like someone approaching a power he did not dare disturb lightly.

When he reached the altar, he did not smile; instead, he knelt, not theatrically but sincerely. The golden-blue light from the pillars fell upon his face, revealing a seriousness that no one in the Mythical Coalition had ever seen.

“My Lord of Everlife,” Reverend whispered, his voice was calm, but there was a weight in it that had never appeared before, “The situation has changed.”

The Trace Faith Idol remained silent while the Myth of Reverend lowered his head.

“The Death Lord was not the true center. She has a teacher. The survivors confirmed it. Even that lowly ATLAS spawn’s information also aligns with the testimony. This mysterious person confronted the God of Hollow Undead, caused the undead armies to retreat, and disappeared with the Death Lord.”

After the Myth of Reverend recounted the entire events in front of the Trace Faith Idol, the halo behind it seemed to rotate once.

The Myth of Reverend continued, “If the ATLAS spawn is correct, this person is most likely the true Cursed One, and despite my doubts, I’m also starting to believe his claims.”

The moment those words left his mouth, the golden-blue flames inside the chamber flickered as the countless faith threads outside the platform trembled faintly.

Despite the cryptic signs, the Myth of Reverend’s expression became even more solemn, as if understanding something.

“I have not yet confirmed the Cursed One’s current location. He may still be within the continent. He may have hidden himself among the chaos. He may be watching us already. Nonetheless, I will find him and complete the divine mission imposed on me by the Lord of Everlife!”

Right after his devoted declaration, for the first time, the Myth Reverend hesitated before he spoke in a lower voice.

“And there is another matter.”

He raised his hand, and a tiny golden-blue drop appeared above his palm, and it seemed incomplete, or probably damaged, as if something had taken a bite from it.

“One of the stored lifespan traces in the believers was touched, but not sacrificed, transferred, or purified.”

His eyes became sharp as he stated with absolute certainty, “It was devoured!”

The chamber became deathly silent as the Myth of Reverend slowly lowered his head again. This time, his voice no longer contained the confidence of a manipulator, but it contained the caution of a believer standing before an abyss.

“My Lord, I have never encountered such a situation, and this lowly sheep’s mind couldn’t comprehend the knowledge of the divine. So, I seek guidance from the beyond and above!”

The Trace Faith Idol did not answer immediately, nor did it seem capable of speech, but Myth of Reverend waited, and the silence stretched, one breath, two breaths…ten breaths.

Then, within the concealed face beneath the eternal veil, something seemed to open, but not eyes or light; it felt like something far older than either. The countless hourglass symbols behind the idol froze simultaneously.

The Myth of Reverend’s body stiffened as an ancient pressure descended upon the room, gentle yet unbearable, warm yet suffocating, like endless life pressing against the boundary of death.

Then a voice sounded; it was neither loud nor soft; it simply appeared in the Myth of Reverend’s soul.

“Speak everything.”

The Myth of Reverend trembled as cracks appeared on his body, as if something beyond his power was trying to fit inside him. But he endured and lowered his head until his forehead nearly touched the platform.

“Yes, my Lord.”

And for the first time since entering the Sagittarius Continent, the Myth of Reverend felt the weight of uncertainty because the game he had started was no longer only his to play!