Chapter 75: The Cruel Blood Sacrifice

Qin Tian and I quietly approached the mysterious organization, carrying torches in our hands. From a distance, we could see a large crowd gathered in a square, with a structure resembling an altar at the center. On all four sides were long staircases, each stretching endlessly upward. At each corner of the altar stood a bronze cauldron, flames roaring inside. An old man in black robes stood in the middle, his head covered by a wide, imposing hat.

Below the altar, the crowd was entirely dressed in black robes, numbering at least ten thousand by my rough estimate. I pulled the hood of my robe lower, covering half my face to avoid being recognized. Qin Tian had hidden his Desert Eagle in his wide sleeve, while I carried a bowl of blood in one hand and the torch in the other, walking forward.

“You two, what took you so long? Hurry up, the High Priest is waiting,” a guard in black armor, holding an iron staff, called out to us. We quickly made our way to the stairs. They were steep, divided into three sections, each with three hundred and thirty-three steps, ending in wide platforms. Nine hundred and ninety-nine steps in total—absurdly high. We couldn’t use true energy without risking exposure, so we had to rely on sheer stamina to climb.

I whispered to Qin Tian, “When I rush forward and grab the old man, shoot him—just don’t kill him.” The principle of capturing the leader first was obvious; this old man was likely the High Priest they spoke of. If we could subdue him, we might be able to rescue the captives. But there would only be one chance—if our identities were revealed without succeeding, I doubted the two of us could face ten thousand soldiers.

Qin Tian seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation. Before me stood the Qin Tian I’d met at the beginning, a man often more suited than I for such heavy responsibility. We walked with heads lowered toward the altar. Finally, we finished the nine hundred and ninety-nine steps and stepped onto the broad altar, which was vast, spanning over a thousand square meters. In the center stood a table with a thick wooden beam supported by columns on either side. From the middle of the beam hung an iron hook, resembling those butchers use to hang meat.

I approached the old man, handing him the stone bowl filled with blood, preparing to grab him. At that moment, he spoke. I couldn’t understand a word. The crowd below the altar all knelt, while Qin Tian and I stood awkwardly beside the old man, unsure what to do. Fortunately, he paid us no mind.

As I hesitated about whether to make a move, footsteps echoed from a corner of the altar. Glancing sideways, I saw two figures in black carrying a woman toward us. She was bound tightly, a rag stuffed in her mouth. They placed her before the table. The High Priest gestured, and the two men hung her upside down from the hook. The sharp metal pierced her back, and her agonizing screams told me she was still alive. Monsters, all of them. My fists clenched so tightly my knuckles crackled.

Blood streamed from her long hair into the basin on the table. She struggled briefly, then fell silent, her blood filling half the basin. The High Priest poured in the blood I had brought, then waved his hand, and the two men removed her body.

Immediately, another pair brought up a woman, this one conscious and violently struggling. The rag muffled her cries; her clothes were torn, blood crusted on her shoulder, much of her body exposed. These women must have been captured from outside, subjected to unspeakable torment. I could not let this happen before my eyes. As the woman was about to be hung, I shifted slightly, intending to stop them. Qin Tian saw my intent and tugged my sleeve, signaling me not to act rashly.

I forced myself to quell my fury, waiting for the perfect moment to subdue the damned High Priest. The woman’s eyes brimmed with terror; her screams grew hoarse. No matter how she struggled, she could not escape the hook’s fate. I turned my gaze away, heart aching. I could have saved her, but I couldn’t act—a torment beyond words. How many more innocent lives would these fiends take?

When she ceased struggling, her body was carried away. I prepared to strike, but the High Priest turned toward me. Only then did I see his true face: not an old man, just hunched. His eyes glinted with chilling light, a long scar crossed his face, and his lips always curled in a smile that radiated evil.

In a raspy voice, the High Priest said, “Bring the coffin here.” Following his gesture, I saw a green stone coffin at the rear of the altar. Its design seemed familiar—then I remembered, it was the same type I’d seen at Black Dragon Pool. Had they been there?

Qin Tian and I walked to the coffin, each lifting one end with great effort, careful not to use our inner strength lest we be exposed. We carried it to the table. The High Priest instructed us to open it. The lid was heavy; it took everything we had to remove it.

I expected a corpse, perhaps a zombie, but to my shock, it was Xu Qinghuan lying inside. My hand trembled, dropping the lid to the ground. The High Priest, who had been chanting with closed eyes, suddenly opened them. Ten thousand faces below stared up at me, perhaps wondering what I would do next. I turned, swung my fist, and shouted, “Damn you!” My punch landed squarely on the High Priest’s face. Before he could react, I grabbed his neck from behind, drawing my revolver with my right hand, and without hesitation fired a shot through his shoulder.

The sudden chaos threw the crowd into confusion. Qin Tian aimed his Desert Eagle at the High Priest’s head and shouted to the crowd below, “Kneel, or I'll kill him!” The masses dropped to their knees. Qin Tian fired another shot at the High Priest’s left leg, then hoisted Xu Qinghuan onto his back. I took the High Priest hostage and led the way down.

With true energy, we descended the nine hundred and ninety-nine steps in less than a minute. The High Priest seemed powerless; I wondered how he had commanded ten thousand followers—proof that superstition kills. Passing through the crowd, I spotted the female general from before, and the burly man. Once out of the crowd, I shouted, “Don’t follow, or I’ll kill him!” The burly man tried to charge, but the female general stopped him with a hand.

Qin Tian and I ran a few steps, glancing back—thankfully, no one followed. Just as I was celebrating our smooth escape, the burly man suddenly appeared at my side. Caught off guard, he snatched the revolver from my hand.