The Creatures That We Are

Chapter 354: Strange Ritual

“Little Fox, this is what we call projection in psychology.”

Vermilion Bird looked out of the window with a hand propping her head up, speaking in a cool voice. “After you awakened, you were forced to kill your beloved stepfather. With all the pain, guilt, and loneliness weighing you down, you have to anchor yourself somehow in order to survive. I happened to appear then, and you projected all your feelings on me. That’s it.”

“I know it’s my projection,” Scarlet Fox said somewhat petulantly. “What’s so wrong with that?”

Vermilion Bird didn’t say anything.

“What’s so shameful about that?” Scarlet Fox huffed. “You don’t have to feel pressured, Elder Vermilion Bird. Although I consider you my family, you’re free to treat me as a simple subordinate or even a tool. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about what you feel. My feelings are my own.”

“Scarlet Fox.” Vermilion Bird opted for his full codename this time. “You misunderstood.”

Scarlet Fox paused.

“I didn’t say that to hurt you.” Vermilion Bird’s eyes softened. “I simply wanted to tell you that humans are strong. Even if I’m gone one day, even if you’re going to be alone again, you can survive on your own.”

Scarlet Fox bit his lip, eyes reddening.

“Do you hear me?”

“I hear you, Elder Vermilion Bird!” Scarlet Fox said it like an oath.

“Ahem.” Colorless’ fake cough came from the earpiece. “That was very moving, but a little forced on all of us in the other car. Remember to mute the mic next time you’re having a heart-to-heart.”

“Fxxk!” Vermilion Bird cursed, her face flushed. “Ugh, kill me. I forgot about the mic...”

“Elder!” Scarlet Fox kicked the brake. “Look.”

Vermilion Bird looked out of the window on Scarlet Fox’s side, frowning immediately.

There was a garden built on a gentle slope, as big as a soccer field. Sunflowers covered the entire garden, while blood fog reaching half a meter in height submerged half of the stems, making it look as if the crowding sunflowers were growing out of a sea of blood, the sight beautiful in a macabre way.

The large white beam of light, wrapped around by countless tendrils of blood fog, rose from the center of the garden of sunflowers.

Eyeing it, Vermilion Bird estimated that it was at least fifteen meters in diameter.

“Get off and ready for a fight.”

Vermilion Bird made the order through the earpiece.

The two cars parked on a shaded path, and the doors opened at the same time. Well-trained awakeners quickly filed out in order.

Divided into two lines of ten, they stood back to back to cover each other’s blindspots.

Vermilion Bird waved. They carefully walked into the garden of sunflowers, parting the plants that were tall enough to reach their waist while they made their way to the strange pillar of blood.

Colorless called out to the frail blue-haired girl with a ponytail among her group. “Grass, scout ahead.”

“Understood.”

The girl closed her eyes and muttered under her breath.

In less than ten seconds, the air around them grew turbulent, and faint buzz could be heard, the sounds numerous in sources.

Butterflies, bees, dragonflies, and ladybugs continued to fly out of the garden, hovering over Grass’ head in a dense pack. Soon, they headed toward the pillar of blood not far from them.

Moreover, there were rustling sounds coming from under their feet.

Although the ground was now covered in blood fog, Vermilion Bird could make the educated guess that the land-dwelling insects were deployed in droves as well.

Grass’ Talent must be Insects King, serial number 64, allowing one to control all insects in a certain area.

The army of insects headed toward their destination. In Vermilion Bird’s eyes, they looked like a colorful fog gliding over the garden awash in the blood moon’s light, moving toward the light beam.

At first, the army of insects attempted to enter the light beam, but soon they started to hover around it instead, keeping a distance.

After about half a minute, the insects scattered and disappeared.

Eyes wide and face pale, Grass said in a trembling voice, “The insects broke out of my control and fled.”

“What happened?” Colorless asked.

Grass shook her head. “They...were afraid.”

Everyone’s expression darkened.

Although they had anticipated the danger and made up their mind to risk their lives, they couldn’t stop their fear of the unknown from rising in their hearts.

Vermilion Bird took a deep breath and tightened her fists, taking the lead. “Follow me.”

Scarlet Fox trailed right after her, and the others followed suit.

A minute later, all members of Team Vermilion Bird got close to the light beam wrapped in blood fog.

Up close, it looked majestic like a pillar connecting heaven and earth.

Glowing at the bottom was a one-meter-tall makeshift stone altar, on which the blood fog was sparser.

A group of people surrounded the altar, or it would be more accurate to call them a pack of monsters in human form.

They each wore a loose white robe and knelt on the ground, holding their hands together before their chest with their heads lowered, looking humble.

They were muttering something—an evil chant, perhaps, and the chorus of sounds gave off an oppressive feeling.

Vermilion Bird and the others saw the macabre scene clearly: each monster had a dagger in its abdomen, its blood staining its white robe and flowing into the grooves under its feet, allowing the monsters to fill the grooves on the altar with their blood.

The grooves combined to form a large symbol, the very symbol that represented the Godbearer Cult, abstract and evil. It looked like a vertical eye surrounded by something that resembled the sun.

Vermilion Bird felt a wave of disgust. She didn’t know what they were up to, and she wasn’t interested in finding out.

“Destroy them!” she called out.

Behind her was a burly man with tanned skin and dreadlocks, dressed in modern tactical outfit with a submachine gun and all sorts of bombs on him.

Without a word, he took three grenades off his waist and pulled the safety pins, hurling them at the altar.

Boom, boom, boom!

The grenades exploded at the same time with unusual destructive power.

The altar was blown up at once, and stone shards, clumps of earth, and the flesh, blood, and broken limbs of the robed monsters flew in all directions. The large white beam shooting up from the altar instantly vanished.

Without support, the tendrils of blood fog that had wrapped tightly around the light beam slowly fell, and many dispersed midair before even hitting the ground.

“Whoa!”

The burly man in camouflage was Crimson Scorpion, Talent: Explosives Expert, serial number 78, Damage-type.

He was adept at all explosive weapons and traps, and his damage output doubled when using them.

Most monsters in white robes had been killed then and there. The few that had survived dragged their torn and bloodied bodies toward the altar like walking dead without souls. It seemed like they were going to resume the evil ritual or die trying.

Swoosh.

A gust swept over them, accompanying a Black Gold triangular boomerang as large as a ceiling fan. It spinned at high velocity and decapitated the surviving monsters in an arch before returning to its owner—a tall, slim woman with long limbs.

Her pink hair was cut short, and her tanned skin covered by a black tank top and a pair of fitted combat pants. The muscles in her neck, shoulders, abdomen, and hip were firm, the lines elegant.

She was Amon, Colorless’ deputy, with Talent: Arm Strength, serial number 76, Buff-type.

Her arms were incredibly strong, granting her double damage when using throw weapons and other buffs.

The decapitated monsters collapsed among the flowers silently, the body soon submerged by the blood fog.

“That was...it?” Grass said quietly, in disbelief.

“Hmph!” Crimson Scorpion crossed his arms and scoffed derisively. “What the hell. I thought they were gonna be se—”

His voice was suddenly cut off, and his smile went still, as if someone had paralyzed him by hitting his acupuncture point.

The others noticed his strange change.

“Crimson Scorpion?” Scarlet Fox made to walk up to him, but Vermilion Bird stopped him, her expression grave.

“Don’t.”

The man remained paralyzed. A teardrop of fear and despair fell from his widened eyes.

Splash.

A second later, a bloodied sunflower bloomed right out of his mouth.

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