Sacrifices

Chapter 91 Sacrifices

"Snake-man, your father's here! Show yourself!"

Marcus's curses echoed through the ruins. He used every foul language he could think of in his life, from the serpent god's ancestor to the water ghost druid's grandson, and even snake eggs. He spared nothing related to snakes, including Kukulkan, the feathered serpent god who protected him from the poison.

A rotten, old wooden door blocked the soldier's way. The eerie green, putrid light emanating from the door frame made him nauseous. The thought of his beloved teammates being tortured by the poison and suffering a fate worse than death made anger overwhelm his mind in an instant.

The warrior kicked open the tightly closed door. He didn't even think about what might be inside. The first thing he would think of was a mage. They had learned a lot about the snake people's magic along the way. Victor's divine magic could counter the vicious spells that could separate flesh and bone.

This was a trap. Marcus remembered very clearly how many records there were of people dying after entering a trap in the Warrior's Handbook: 12.

The wooden door collapsed with a crash, kicked to pieces, and a group of snake-men dressed in gorgeous black silk robes surrounded a person tied to a wooden stake.

Marcus couldn't understand the snake people's language. He charged forward with his sword in his left hand and his staff in his right, turning the stubborn speed bump into an unstoppable dump truck.

If there's no road ahead, then smash your way through!

"You little snakes, your giant python ancestor has arrived!"

His feet were taut, just like the posture of Houqin in the Temple of Light and Shadow, and he leaped up by pushing off the ground.

A giant python tumbled through the air, baring its fangs at its destined enemy. A swift wind drifted from the east, passing through swamps, rouge trees, and guavas—blowing away all evil thoughts before the warrior!

The war club, like a heavy and powerful tail, knocked open the snake-man's sealed soul; the sword, like fangs, drank blood and sealed his throat.

The snake-man wizards' counterattack began immediately after Marcus pounced and killed two of his brethren. The wizard, wielding a golden snake-headed staff, chanted the name of Seth loudly, and a beam of dark red light shot out from his slender fingertips.

Strengthening Ghoul's Touch: The best way to deal with a warrior is always to first restrict his mobility and then use various spells to manipulate him at will.

The beam of light, filled with negative energy, touched Marcus's chest. He felt a strong numbness in his body, and the force of his elbow swing was reduced. He only managed to smash half of the snake-man's head off with one blow.

Steel Bindings, Acid Breath, Serpentine Seals—all sorts of malicious spells that could make a warrior wish he were dead were imposed upon the indomitable Marcus like a torrent.

But at this moment, he was not fighting alone.

The antique bronze obsidian mirror placed in the waist pouch, adorned with star patterns, features a vortex on its surface, as if an abyss has absorbed all the witchcraft that bound the warrior's movements.

Smoke Mirror!

The Hagi leopard, it hasn't disappeared?

Marcus was surprised, but he didn't slow down his movements at all. A snake-man sorcerer was still chanting some incomprehensible incantations when Marcus raised his sword and cleaved him in two from above with the sharp blade of Blood Oath.

Several magic missiles flew toward the warrior, hitting him squarely in the back. A thin, veil-like halo of light, like the night sky, suddenly surrounded Marcus's body. The missiles made two loud bangs, igniting dark green flames in the night barrier, then flashed by and nothing happened.

With the guidance of two powerful figures, Marcus had never felt such exhilaration in battle. He abandoned his steady and methodical style of team combat, moving back and forth among the snake people. Wherever his sword and staff passed, only blood and bone fragments remained.

The Serpent People were at their wits' end. They had not expected that a chosen one would descend upon them, and Seth's will no longer favored these abandoned pawns.

Marcus spread his arms, watching the monster holding the golden serpent-headed scepter, who was still praying in a voice that sounded somewhat mournful. Marcus sneered inwardly.

Nobody cares about a bunch of egg-laying animals!

With a thud, he flew up from the spot and landed on the snake-man sorcerer's head, which the snake-man sorcerer couldn't dodge in time.

The club first sank into the slippery scales, smashing the bones into fragments, then the longsword was unfurled, revealing its fangs in the night, and a head slowly slid down to Marcus's feet.

The battle was over. Marcus stood there, slightly out of breath. He didn't have time to think about Quetzalcoatl and the Smoke Mirror. Looking at the ruined inner room piled with more than a dozen corpses, he cursed himself for getting too carried away!

They're all dead, where am I supposed to find the antidote?

He was anxious, focusing his gaze on the only suspicious detail in the inner room.

It was a person tied to a wooden stake, his whole body wrapped in blood-stained black linen, and he didn't make a sound the whole time.

The warrior slowly approached the wooden stake, listening to Victor say that some strange cults consider it an honor to sacrifice their lives to evil gods. They use the remains of the sacrificed as materials for spellcasting, believing that this will gain the favor of evil.

A slight breath escaped from the thick linen cloth; he was breathing, he was alive, and must have been a human sacrifice captured by the snake people.

Marcus nodded inwardly, used his sword to cut the rope binding the sacrifice's throat, and pulled off the hood.

Upon seeing the appearance of the offerings, his pupils dilated instantly, as if struck by an earthquake.

Eileen Vicy always felt unlucky. For a woman nearing thirty who was still worrying about the family business, her recent experiences had been absolutely terrible.

First, when she was sixteen, her idol, Sir Alfred Carey, joined her brother in the war against the barbarians in the north. As a result, one of them became a madman, and the other was captured by the barbarians for three months, developed savage tastes, and joined the Brokeback Mountain Society.

Imagine this: your eldest half-brother has gone insane, your second half-brother is wandering in a foreign land and willingly becoming a mercenary leader, while you are studying at university, preparing to join the fashionable clothing design industry after graduation.

But now, what lies before this young lady are various forces that have sensed an opportunity to take a bite out of the Vixi family, a scheming butler, her sister-in-law who died in childbirth, more than a hundred mouths to feed in the Chamber of Commerce, and four naive nieces.

She devoted so much effort to managing the merchant guild left by her father after the family lost its pillar, the baron. The guild once ranked among the top ten in the merchant guilds. She spent twelve years transforming herself from an ignorant girl into a more mature woman.

But everything was ruined by Moraz. He returned to his family, and the Baron, who had previously remained silent about everything, became completely obedient to this Brother Li. Those sycophants who had been lying in wait during her twelve years in charge of the Chamber of Commerce seized the opportunity and joined forces with Moraz to overthrow her.

Well, Eileen didn't care about this. Who cares? She'd already made enough money, and she was happy to return to her beloved fashion design industry, decorating her simple bedroom with exotic fabrics and jewelry.

But damned Moraz, he fell for the snake-man's trick—and set his sights on the Nileka River, which the Visi family had long abandoned.

Silver? She didn't believe it at all; the silver in that wretched place had long been mined out.

To show his loyalty, Moraz offered his half-sister to the snake people. Whenever Eileen thought of this, she would fantasize about whether her situation would be better if Sir Alfred Carey had not participated in the war against the barbarians—she wouldn't have become a puppet tied to a stake, listening to the snake people's strange and slimy incantations.

She didn't feel much despair. So be it, she'd had enough of living these past years—it was just a pity for her well-behaved children.

The cacophony of curses and fighting seemed to rouse Eileen, who was being consumed by the toxins, and she heard a sound—a sound that filled her with joy.

Just before the hood was removed, she seemed to revert to being a sixteen-year-old girl, just as she had been watching Alfred Carey do his pole vaulting training on the playground, hoping that a real knight would rescue the young lady from her predicament.

The darkness before her eyes flashed by, and under the pale, mercury-like starlight, she saw a man covered in blood, the beauty mark at the corner of his eye trembling.

He made such a huge sacrifice for me; he must be a hero.

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