17 Bones of the Perished (1/2)

”This tomb belongs to the one before the previous priest,” Bann said in a cold voice. ”He jumped after he had gotten drunk. He had internal bleeding and died the next day. Rest assured, even if the avenging spirit did exist, he'd have gone drinking instead of come looking for you.”

”Hey, are you encouraging me to dig the grave of the previous secret protector?”

”Fine, you don't have to,” Bann muttered.

”Wait, I will! I will!” Wolf Flute continued digging bitterly. With the surgery and the medicine, his heavy injury had healed but had left him with very serious side effects. He would receive more advanced treatment once he returned to the holy city.

Now he was sweating all over, regretting that he had not done much physical work during his years in the holy city, otherwise he would not be panting already.

Digging and digging, the sound of the shovel became rhythmic. He tried to make it less boring. Wolf flute began to sing, ”One little, two little, three little Indians. Four little, five little, Six little Indians!”

Just before Father Bann's tolerance reached his limit and killed him for singing such horrible songs, Wolf Flute finally heard the sound of the shovel hit the sarcophagus.

He was excited and started to dig harder. He had soon cleared a majority of the dirt on top of the coffin.

Seeing that he was almost done, the priest pushed Wolf Flute away. He took out a crowbar from his sleeve and put it under the crack of the opening, struggling to open it. With the sound of the nails breaking, the coffin was cracked slightly, then opened entirely.

Wolf Flute was stunned.

He did not smell anything unpleasant, instead he smelled church incense which made him quite uneasy.

The priest lit the lantern and swept the top of the coffin. Wolf Flute was only able to see the bones, like the blooming stone flowers, but he barely saw much else.

A surge of wind blew in from the sky and swept away the dark clouds. The moon shone above.

In the gloomy moonlight, the body in the sarcophagus appeared to smile at the two guests.

The priest had a cold look on his face, and Wolf flute gasped with surprise, ”What the f*ck is that thing?”

-

Inside the hundred-year-old coffin, everything was covered in scarlet.

There were spider lilies in full blossom. They grew out of the bones, with a smell of an extravagant incense, enchanting and seductive.

Underneath the layers of spider lilies, the bones that would only exist in nightmares were finally exposed.

On the seemingly grinning black skull, in addition to the normal two eye sockets, there were two additional gaps, as if there used to be two more eyes in them.

A skeleton over three meters tall was lying in the coffin, six arms crossed. Two hands with open palms on top, fingers crossed, posing like flames. Two hands laid on top of the chest, its fingers closed together like a lotus. Two hands, with fingers crossed like chains with an iron lock.

Under the six arms, something was guarded.

Where the rib cage had been now had many layers of lamellae, the barbs above had all been broken.

A pair of torn wing bones extended from the back to the front. Although it had become bone, it was still covered with a bronze layer .

A frantic feeling filled the coffin like a demon's burial ground. Even when dead, it still felt as if he would leap out of the coffin and fly towards the moonlight.

This was not a human corpse. It more like a monster made of black iron, bronze and silver, only existing in a craftsmen's nightmare!

Wolf Flute took out the shovel, expressionless. He poked the bones which seemed to have been made of alloy. The sound of the metal colliding produced a very low buzz, numerous souls in the darkness echoed in return.

He held the shovel and froze.

As a gust of wind blew, the shovel in his hands silently disintegrated into powder. The iron residue drifted through the air, seeming to have pierced the heart with every breath, giving him chills all over--the Curse of Ravages.

It was a curse created by the musicians of the Modification Department. The music was engraved into the bones. Even the smallest disturbance would cause the aether to backfire, turning all those who touched the bones to ashes.

Wolf Flute tilted his head and looked at Bann, ”Hey, Father, when the people of your church were drunk did they all turn into something like this?”

”Ah, I was just trying to scare you. I only wanted to see your expression,” the priest casually revealed the truth, as if he had done nothing wrong. He looked at the bones with a cold stare, ”Before he died, he was not human. Just treat it as a body of the beast.”

”What now?” Wolf Flute asked. ”The two of us stay here and wait a few decades until the Curse of Ravages has dissipated?”

”The sarcophagus and the cemetery are connected. Unless the cemetery was dug entirely out of the ground, the Curse of Ravages will not dissipate.” The priest turned around to look at him, putting his hands out, ”Show me your letter of appointment.”

Wolf Flute was surprised for a moment. He scrambled through his bag and took out a piece of paper as red as blood. The paper had a pear watermark from the church as an anti-counterfeit mark. The priest put the paper in front of the lantern, turned it to the side. A few numbers were revealed where the red stains had been.

”S7:6-3242? What kind of code is this?” Wolf Fang asked.

”The Authorized Ciphertext, issued by the Cardinal Hall of the Sacred City. The believers are allowed to use divine power with this.

”S is the abbreviation of the angel Seraph, meaning the first sequence under the throne. Seven is the number representing 'The Burning Snake'--a power to eliminate all evil. This is power given to me by the Cardinal Hall of the Sacred City. Followed by a one-time ciphertext, which can be interpreted by us.”

The priest explained this casually, and took out an old clock from his inner pocket.

The clock was a size of two fists, more like a large bell, but much more solemn than a bell. It was very old, engraved with lines of spells, and a crest of the Three Saints.

Under the moonlight, the brass bell shone silently.

Then the priest sounded the bell with a complex rhythm.

It was quiet at first, then suddenly felt like someone let out a breath.

Suddenly, countless bats started screaming, shattering the silence. They flew toward the sky in panic, aimlessly flying about, so frightened they died running into the tombstones and the walls.

The sound, unbearable to the human ear, had spread like water dropped into a quiet lake. Ripples spread in all directions. Suddenly it reached tens of millions of miles away, so many miles away in the holy city, a huge dark bell sounded in response.