Miss Shepherd does not die in the Mysterious World

Chapter 4: Presenting the Sacrificial Rite

“Why are you back so late?”

Veronica looked curiously at her sister, who was ten minutes later than usual, and couldn't help but ask.

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing.”

Mel shook her head gently, then sat down next to Veronica.

Hearing this, Veronica just nodded lightly, then placed the cake in front of Mel.

“Come, have some cake.”

The raspberry cake, emitting a sweet fragrance, was pushed in front of Mel.

The crimson jam resembled fresh blood, reminding Mel of the scene from just now.

She picked up a spoon, put the cake into her mouth, and then gently licked the raspberry jam off the spoon.

“Is it good?”

Veronica looked at her cat-like sister and asked with a smile.

Hearing this, Mel nodded gently, a faint smile gracing the corners of her lips.

The sweet taste spread in her mouth, stimulating the secretion of dopamine, bringing pleasure.

“Mhm.”

The next day, Mel opened her eyes in bed.

The memory of last night's murder slowly bloomed in her mind.

Jessica's face before her death flashed before Mel's eyes one by one like a slideshow.

So real.

But the young girl was not frightened by this, merely waving her hand faintly, as if to brush away some dust.

After completing her first "shepherding," Mel didn't have any real feeling about it, and even vaguely felt that she had done something wrong.

It was like getting points for steps in solving a problem; although she got the points, it didn't mean she got the question right.

Mel sat on the edge of the bed, the morning light spilling through the gap in the curtains onto her face.

The young girl looked down at her neck; the bruises there were long gone.

“Is this.... the power of the Red Moon?”

She stood up, walked to the full-length mirror in the room, and looked up to examine herself.

The young girl in the mirror was still as delicate and charming, but there was an added, indescribable depth in her eyes.

Last night's experience was like a dream, yet so real that it couldn't be ignored.

Mel placed her hand on her chest, feeling the real beat of her heart, and breathed a small sigh of relief, then began to change her clothes.

The clothes in the wardrobe were almost all made by Veronica for her.

Only a small portion were specially bought by Veronica for holidays or birthdays.

If their parents were still alive, there would naturally be no need to be so frugal.

But their parents were no longer here, because of lung disease.

Before they died, they left Veronica and Mel an inheritance that wasn't large, but not small either.

However, Veronica wouldn't use this money unless it was absolutely necessary.

Her daily expenses were all earned through various part-time jobs, for example, working part-time at the library, or helping to set up the scene for Mass at the church every week.

Mel's slender fingers gently slid across the fabric of each piece of clothing, finally stopping on a light blue dress.

Veronica bought this for her last year for her birthday; it cost one pound.

The hem of the dress was embroidered with intricate dark patterns, which gleamed faintly in the sunlight.

Mel took down the dress, her movements as gentle as if she were handling some treasure.

“Rustle—”

The sound of fabric rubbing was particularly clear in the quiet room.

Mel took off her nightdress, revealing her fair skin.

As a breeze blew in, bringing with it a trace of chill, the young girl couldn't help but shiver.

She didn't know if it was an illusion, but she noticed that her body seemed more vibrant than yesterday, and her skin was more radiant.

After getting dressed, Mel got up and walked out of the room.

Veronica's figure was still busy in the kitchen.

Just a single glance would make Mel feel especially at ease.

“Are you awake?”

Veronica placed the toast on the table, “I made fresh toast, and there's the leftover jam from yesterday.

You go to the washroom first, I'll come over to help you comb your hair in a bit.”

“Mhm.”

Mel nodded gently, then walked past the living room and into the washroom.

The morning air in the washroom was filled with a faint dampness.

Mel stood in front of the sink.

The clear water flowing from the faucet created small splashes on the white porcelain bottom of the basin, the sound of rushing water echoing in the small space.

The young girl dipped her hands into the cool water and washed them carefully.

As if Jessica's blood from last night still remained between her fingers, she wouldn't stop until her fingertips turned a faint pink.

After a while, Veronica pushed open the washroom door, a comb in her hand, and stood gently behind Mel.

“Time to comb your hair.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you sleep well last night?”

Veronica gently lifted the long silver hair, just like every morning in the past.

The comb passed through the long silver hair, gliding over it gently and skillfully, making a reassuring rustling sound.

“You didn't have any more nightmares about the moon, did you?”

“Mhm, I slept quite well,” Mel answered softly, her tone extremely calm.

“That's good.”

Veronica breathed a sigh of relief, then divided the long hair into three strands and began to weave it into a neat braid.

Every time Veronica helped Mel comb her hair, she always liked to give her various styles, and every single time the result was so perfect that Mel couldn't find any fault.

“After we finish breakfast, we'll go to church.”

Hearing this, Mel was slightly taken aback, then asked with a guilty conscience: “Can we... not go?”

“Of course not.”

Veronica said in a tone that allowed no argument.

“Be good, big sister will be with you.”

After breakfast, under Veronica's firm insistence, Mel eventually followed her to the nearest church.

To be honest, Mel was a little nervous.

After realizing that the Red Moon and the strange whisperings in her mind were real, Mel slowly began to understand.

This world was no longer the world of her common sense.

In this world, supernatural powers existed, so the church might not be the church of her common sense either.

There might really be gods.

Would she be burned at the stake as a heretic?

Before even arriving at the church, Mel's mind started to run wild.

And that strange voice in her head, something about a Shepherd, and having to kill people.

Seeing that they had reached the church entrance, Mel quickly shook her head, trying to force herself to stop thinking about those things.

“We're here, Mel.”

Veronica said softly, “Do you still remember this place?”

Hearing this, Mel raised her head and looked up at the Gothic-style building.

The towering white spire pointed towards the sky, as if to pierce the gray heavens.

The outer walls of the church were made of ivory-white granite, its surface long since turned rough and uneven by the baptism of time.

The huge rose window glittered with colorful light in the sun.

The stained glass depicted complex religious patterns, and the most eye-catching among them was the giant red moon in the center.

This meant that in this world, the Red Moon was a mainstream faith!

But the moon is clearly....

Mel swallowed, trying to suppress the thoughts in her mind.

She could feel her heart pounding violently in her chest, as if it would burst out at any moment.

After a moment of silence, Mel finally said the name from her memory.

“Saint Margaret's Church.... right?”

Hearing this, Veronica nodded slightly, breathing a small sigh of relief.

“Mhm, that's right, let's go in.”

As she spoke, she took Mel's hand and walked towards the church doors.

Veronica noticed that Mel's palm was sweating and clammy, so she gently patted the back of Mel's hand.

“Don't be afraid, Mel. The people at the church are very friendly, they will help us.”

“Mhm....”

Mel nodded, then followed Veronica inside.

The air was filled with a peculiar smell, like a mixture of incense, candles, and parchment, with a faint, barely perceptible scent of blood.

This smell made Mel feel uneasy, and she subconsciously tightened her grip on Veronica's hand.

Just then, a nun in a black robe walked over.

She looked at the two with a kind face and asked gently: “Welcome to Saint Margaret's Church, are you here seeking guidance?”

Veronica took a step forward and curtsied slightly.

“Hello, Sister Irene. My younger sister has recently encountered some strange things. I hope the church can help her.”

Hearing this, Sister Irene's gaze fell on Mel.

Those kind eyes seemed to be able to see through a person's heart.

For no reason, Mel felt a chill run up her spine.

She subconsciously lowered her head, avoiding the nun's gaze.

“I understand,” Sister Irene nodded slightly, a kind smile on her face, “Please follow me. The bishop happens to be conducting morning prayers right now.”

The two sisters followed Sister Irene into the church.

As soon as they entered, a thick scent of incense assailed their nostrils, making Mel feel a bit unwell.

She looked around and found that the interior of the church was much more spacious than it appeared from the outside.

The high vaulted ceiling was covered with exquisite murals depicting various scenes from the scriptures, but these things seemed to be slightly different from what Mel remembered.

As for what was wrong, she couldn't say, after all, she wasn't a frequent visitor to the church.

Mel's gaze followed down to the murals, and her pupils suddenly contracted.

The murals here were filled with all sorts of bizarre elements, so much so that Mel couldn't think of any adjective to describe them.

It was hard for her to imagine what state of mind the artist was in when they painted these things.

And what made her even more uncomfortable was that in all the paintings, that giant red moon was always hanging in the sky, watching everything in the world with indifference.

In the center of the church was a huge altar with a peculiar statue on it.

The statue was humanoid, wearing a cloak, and next to it were several half-kneeling statues, resembling servants or followers.

These servant statues had their hands raised high, and on each one was placed an object.

From left to right, they were:

A thick tome, a rusty longsword, a pair of brass scales, a cracked skull, a gem glittering with red light, and a scepter-like object.

What made Mel most curious was the head of the statue.

It had no carved features.

Perhaps because a god has no form, the head of the statue was a perfect sphere, its surface as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the surrounding scene.

Mel stared involuntarily at the round head and suddenly felt a wave of dizziness.

Suddenly, she seemed to see ripples on the surface of the statue, like a calm lake being gently touched.

Immediately after, a voice sounded in her mind.

(Presenting the sacrificial rite)