Hogwarts: Bloodline Legend

Cam and Ian knew the answer to this question well. Clearly, some members of the Dusk Hermit Association would rather kill themselves than be captured and offered as sacrifices to nourish the Evil God Embryo.

"They know what being taken away means."

Ian whispered, "It's not death, but a living sacrifice. Souls are stripped away, bodies transformed, becoming the 'nourishment' for the embryo. They choose to end themselves to preserve their last bit of dignity."

Trembling, Cam closed his companion's eyes, murmuring the Soul Calming Spell. His voice was choked, yet resolute. Ian stood up and gazed at the temple gate. There, several corpses of priests lay twisted on the ground, also suicides. One had pierced his throat with a Ritual Sword.

Another had shattered his head with a backlash from Magic.

"By Merlin's beard... Not just your companions, but these priests too would rather use the Death Curse on themselves..." Ian knelt down, his fingertips brushing over the black sun mark on the neck of the corpse. The marks squirmed like living creatures, cracking open and oozing corrupted purple liquid when they touched his fingertips.

"Strange." Ian frowned, "These priests... are the 'creators' of the embryo, its 'guardians'. Why would they flee? Why would they die?"

After some analysis.

Ian also got the answer.

"Clearly, things have spiraled out of control. These people also know how terrifying the thing they are nurturing is." Ian's Magic Wand suddenly sprang from his sleeve, drawing a red light of alert in the air.

In the shadow of the obelisk thirty steps away, three white-robed priests were using gem-encrusted Ritual Daggers to slit each other's throats. The eldest saw Ian and suddenly drew incomplete Rune Language on the ground with his bloodied fingers—"Do not be seen." Obviously, this elderly priest was expressing his possibly dwindling goodwill at the end.

"You stay here."

Ian tore off his Cloak to cover the exposed chest of a female corpse, "Bury them all in the dunes to the west, at least... don't let the vultures desecrate the bodies of these warriors."

Ian cast three Freezing Spells to seal off the priests' corpses on one side.

"The concentration of Dark Arts here could drive a Dementor mad."

Ian's caution was not unfounded.

Just as Ian was about to leave.

Cam suddenly grabbed his wrist.

"Don't you find it odd? It seems the priests are being hunted too." He pointed to the shadows of the temple's pillars, where several white-robed corpses were stacked like discarded dolls.

"They are the ones who manufacture the Evil God Embryo, how could this...?" The young wizard had just realized this point; he noticed the manner of the priests' deaths was entirely different—their throats were pierced by Ritual Daggers, their nails were broken as their fingers clawed deep into the stone cracks, as if desperately trying to escape the temple in their final moments. One corpse even drew half a sun symbol with blood on the stone slabs, indicating he bled to death while crawling.

"Of course, it spiraled out of control, just like those TV dramas often show. Well, I forgot you don't know what a TV drama is." Ian shrugged helplessly at the befuddled Cam.

"Anyway, just listen to me, stay here and don't move, or just leave with your companion's corpse, I'll go explore, and maybe bring back a couple of oranges for you." Ian's voice was as cryptic as the Nile River, and under Cam's increasingly bewildered gaze, he stepped over the threshold and into the temple.

Once he stepped through the outer gate.

He was hit by a scent of rotting sweetness, like ancient honey mixed with the odor of innards. Ian approached the corpses of the elder priest and others who had warned him earlier.

The person wore a High Tier Priest's Golden Patterned Robe, with a Temple Scepter hanging on his chest. Ian examined his hand and found burn marks on his fingertips—the aftermath of forcibly using a High Tier Sealing Technique.

"He tried to seal something... but failed." Ian murmured, "He knew very well his only option was suicide, just like those outside who wanted to escape but couldn't."

Ian glanced at the corpse one last time, then turned toward the temple gate. The heavy Bronze Gate stood ajar, with the scent of rotten sweetness seeping through the door crack, like decayed roses and rust mingled.

Ian pushed the door open and walked into the temple's great hall.

The hall inside was deathly silent.

The light within the temple took on an unhealthy amber hue, as if the air itself was deteriorating. Ian's footsteps stirred eerie echoes in the corridor, the Sun God reliefs on the walls had somehow transformed into twisted tumor-like protrusions. He touched one of the "reliefs," feeling the nauseating elasticity of its surface against his finger.

It was clearly living tissue writhing.

"This place is really a sanity-draining nightmare." As Ian's Lighting Spell illuminated the temple's dome, he seemed to hear a reverberation resembling the cries of a thousand infants. The Sun God reliefs on the walls were melting, Ra's Chariot crafted from pure gold was drooping like a wax statue, the gold liquid that dripped morphed mid-air into multi-eyed flying insects.

"Fiery Fire City Ablaze!" Ian's Magic Wand burst with blue fire rings, incinerating the swarming insects. The flames illuminated the corridor's end—seven priests swayed hanging on the crystal chandelier, spider-like bony appendages emerging from beneath their white robes, evidently mutated before their suicide, becoming sacrifices nourishing the Evil God Embryo.

"Ah—!"

A piercing scream echoed from the front. Ian drew his magic wand and rushed towards the sound source. As he rounded the third corner, the sight forced him to halt abruptly—a blood-soaked white scepter rolled to his feet, the sun golden disc embedded at its head shattered. Twenty steps away, an old priest, his face covered in blood, was being cornered by something.

It's the Scepter Priest.

What he faced were, of course, the minions of the evil god embryo they created.

Another ghost bride.

And not the same ghost bride that Ian had paradoxically commanded.

This entity floats three inches above the ground, wearing a blood-stained bridal gown, its black hair floating as if alive in a windless environment. When it turned its face, Ian's stomach churned violently—beneath the veil, there was no face, only a mass of ever-changing black mist, faintly forming facial features only to immediately dissolve.

"No—! I'm not a sacrifice! I'm your servant!" The Scepter Priest screamed, trying to plead, but it was futile, incapable of communicating with the embryo controlling the ghost bride.

Seeing himself about to be captured, the Scepter Priest, of course, would not wait helplessly.

"In the name of Ra!"

The Scepter Priest suddenly raised both hands high, exposing arms riddled with black veins from the torn sleeves.

"Burn!"

A pillar of fierce white fire descended from the sky, enveloping the ghost bride within. Ian smelled the scent of charred flesh, but in the next second his blood froze—the red bridal gown within the flames remained intact, the tongues of fire pierced through the spirit body like phantoms. The ghost bride raised a "hand," fingers of mist gently brushing the old priest's forehead.

"Impossible!" The Scepter Priest cried out in terror, "I used the highest purification technique! How can you—"

The ghost bride did not respond, merely raising a hand, fingers splayed. A crimson thread shot from her fingertips, instantly penetrating the priest's right leg. He screamed in agony, collapsing to his knees.

"Cage of Light!" The priest exerted his last strength, striking the ground with the scepter. A golden light barrier instantly formed, separating him from the ghost bride.

The ghost bride collided with the light barrier, shaking it violently, cracks appeared but it did not shatter.

"Effective?!" Hope flashed in the priest's eyes.

However, the ghost bride merely raised a hand, her fingertips gently slicing.

The light barrier was torn like paper.

"No... No..." The priest trembled and retreated, "You are not Altos... You are not human... You are... a monster..."

The ghost bride approached, her mouth opened, black mist surged from it, forming a twisted tendril aimed straight for the priest's throat.

The priest roared: "Thunder of the End!"

The scepter lifted high, a purple-black lightning bolt struck down from the dome, hitting the ghost bride. Her body became charred in the lightning, head exploding, limbs disintegrating.

Inside the great hall, dead silence prevailed.

The priest slumped to the ground, panting like an ox: "It's over... It's over..."

Just then—

The charred body began to writhe.

Black mist surged from the cracks in the floor, piecing together fragments of flesh. The head regrew, skin regenerated, the red veil reappeared.

The ghost bride returned whole.

She slowly raised her head, red eyes locked on the priest, corners of her mouth splitting open to reveal a sinister blood maw.

"What... What exactly are you?!" The priest screamed in despair, "I used the temple's highest magic! Why can't you die?!"

The ghost bride did not answer, merely raised a hand, the blood-thin thread like a whip, entangling around the priest's neck, gradually hoisting him up, to feed the embryo he once served.

Transformed into a raven.

Ian followed closely behind, hidden at the boundary between reality and illusion.