NOVEL NEXT Ch. 109
Chapter 109
The Lord of the Styx and the Chief Arbiter
At the dock, Lucy absentmindedly fiddled with the three strands of silver thread Master Theodosius had given her.
[Equipment: No. 1 Corpse-Stitching Thread of the Pale Scalpel (One of the legendary-tier witchcraft items from the corpse-stitching thread set, crafted by the Great Cat Witch, Molly, imbued with the Laws of Anatomy)]
[Attributes: Infinite Value Growth, Binding, Cutting, Bloodsucking, Concealment]
Lucy froze, surprised to discover that Master Theodosius’s witchcraft item had been crafted by the same ‘Cat Witch’ who made the Black Cat Broom.
“Could it be that I’ve misjudged her? Maybe this Cat Witch is actually a very respectable and powerful alchemist school witch!”
Just then, the sound of rippling water suddenly reached her ears.
Turning her head, she saw that the wooden boat which had brought them there was, unbeknownst to her, slowly rising from beneath the water again.
She instinctively activated the concealment function of the silver threads.
Next, the figure of the boatman silently disembarked, his gaze sweeping across the dock from beneath his bamboo hat.
Lucy felt as if her throat were being choked—she could hardly breathe.
Fortunately, the boatman seemed not to notice anything unusual and floated past her slowly.
[Divine Contamination from the Lord of the Styx, Icarus: 0.1%, 0.2%.]
Only after he had moved far away did Lucy dare to disengage her concealment, still feeling a lingering dread.
At that moment, the misty sky of the Realm of Death was suddenly blanketed in darkness, and a suffocating pressure emanated from the end of the Styx.
The threat of the Feeder of the Dead, Hecate, was dangerously close and the identity of that “boatman” sent a chill down her spine.
“One of the Seven Gods of the Realm of Death, the Lord of the Styx—Icarus—why has he suddenly descended?!”
And who was the source of the pressure at the end of the Styx?
At this point, she couldn’t hope that Master Theodosius still had the time or means to concern himself with her fate—she had to find a way to escape on her own.
With that thought, Lucy wrapped herself in her mentor’s Nightwalker robe, dashed to the dock, and leapt onto the worn wooden boat.
Then she untied the rope from the post and pushed the small vessel upstream, toward the Gate of the Dead.
To leave the Realm of Death, the only way was through the Gate of the Dead.
Fortunately, the Gatekeeper, Fenrir, had already been subdued. As long as she could reach the gate before the death realm’s big shots discovered this little ant, she still had a chance to escape.
When she reached out to grasp the oar secured to the side of the wooden boat, the blue characters of the system flickered before her eyes.
[Equipment: Ark of the Styx (Unique), a wooden boat capable of floating on any substance, indestructible, never sinks...]
...
The turmoil in the Realm of Death was still ongoing.
The only vessel moving against the current of the entire Styx was Lucy’s small boat.
This solitary boat that never sank crushed through the boiling Styx. Countless souls, bound by the laws, struggled in vain, while only her oar cut open the reverse current.
The river's flow grew increasingly turbulent. The ghostly green souls crashed against the hull like boiling bubbles, letting out faint sobs.
She turned to glance back in the direction of the Nurturing Cradle.
Beneath the darkness that devoured the sky, only Theodosius’s silver threads occasionally pierced the void, proving that this great Star Ring Wizard was still fighting.
“I have to go faster...”
Just as she was vigorously rowing, the once somewhat calm Styx suddenly contracted, then surged with even greater waves.
At the same time, Lucy noticed several soul masses, visibly larger and more condensed than the others, drifting downstream.
Uku had once said that the larger a soul in the Styx, the stronger its soul strength had been in life.
A Star Ring Wizard’s soul was large enough to clog the river, which was why the Gate of the Dead and the Path of No Return were needed to guide them through.
Souls this size drifting through the river were generally those of deceased wizards.
As the soul masses drew closer, Lucy could clearly see their faces.
That glance sent a chill through her—it turned out she recognized them all.
The largest mass was none other than Lilith, the peak apprentice of the Tower of the Four Sages. The other, slightly smaller ones were also seniors from the same tower.
At that moment, Lilith, who was struggling in the current of the Styx, also noticed the small boat and Lucy aboard it.
Before she could recover from her surprise, she saw Lucy extend her oar toward her.
Instinctively, Lilith reached out and grabbed it, immediately feeling a tremendous force pulling at her.
Luckily, souls had no weight, and Lucy easily hauled several of the Tower of the Four Sages’ seniors onto the boat.
“Lu... Lucy?! What are you doing here?!”
Lilith exclaimed in disbelief as soon as she got aboard, “Weren’t you traveling with Master Theodosius? Don’t tell me you’ve died too!”
Lucy gave a bitter smile. “That’s a long story. But what about you all—how did you end up in the Realm of Death?”
The senior apprentices exchanged glances.
“We were set up,” Lilith said bitterly. “Those bastards from Eternal Silence Blackthorn never gave up. They’ve aligned themselves with the wizard faction of the Sofit Kingdom and planted numerous terrifying aberrations within the tower.”
“A few days ago, they suddenly launched an assault on the tower. Madam Green Vine was gravely injured, and many of the apprentices left behind were killed.”
“Moreover, those people have set up a massive sacrificial array in the Principality of Kolo, attempting to summon an evil god to descend.”
Lucy’s pupils abruptly contracted.
A massive sacrificial array? The anomalies in the Realm of Death!
She never believed in coincidence. For both of these events to occur simultaneously—there had to be a connection.
“No matter what, I’ll get you all to the Gate of the Dead first.”
At that moment, more and more souls of apprentices from the Tower of the Four Sages drifted down the river.
Lucy had no choice but to haul them all onto the boat, which soon became packed full of souls.
...
In front of the Gate of the Dead.
Fenrir, bound tightly in silver threads, suddenly perked up its six ears as if it sensed something.
A shadow slowly approached through the darkness.
As the familiar scent reached its nose, the Gatekeeper, Fenrir, widened its eyes.
Struggling against the silver threads wrapped around its upper and lower jaws, it growled, “Zoe?!”
“What are you doing here instead of staying put in the Courtyard of Judgment, running all the way to the Path of No Return?”
Indeed, the one who had suddenly appeared before it was none other than one of the Seven Gods of the Realm of Death—the ruler of the Courtyard of Judgment—Chief Arbiter Zoe.
Her authority lay in judging all souls for the sins they committed in life, ranking fourth among the Seven Gods.
Zoe wore a pure white robe styled after ancient Rome. Her golden hair was tied in a bun atop her head, and her chiseled face bore no emotion, like a statue carved from marble.
His voice was hoarse. “It was the Death God who sent me to find you.”
“Boss, the Sleeper!” Fenrir was slightly surprised, all three of its heads lifting at once. “Has the Boss finally woken up?”
Unfortunately, Zoe did not respond to its question and instead continued on her own.
“Since the signing of the Old Pact three thousand one hundred years ago, we, the Seven Gods of the Realm of Death, have not descended upon the Primary Plane.”
Fenrir widened all six of its eyes, not understanding why Zoe would bring this up now, but still replied:
“Well, there’s no helping it. The Old Pact carries the force of law. If we ignore the pact and descend directly, we would suffer its backlash.”
Zoe nodded.
“You’re right. But the Three Pillar Gods have found a loophole in the pact. We will all descend onto the Primary Plane today.”
“If the plan goes smoothly, we can harvest the faith of all humans on the Western Wizard Continent before the Star Law Institute has time to react.”
Fenrir’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“Why didn’t I know about this?!” It struggled to rise to its feet. “Wonderful! I’ve long wanted to devour the remaining moons. When the time comes, I’ll definitely ascend to the level of a principal god.”
“Tell me quickly, what should I—what are you doing?!”
All six of the Dog God’s pupils contracted at once as it saw twelve Judgment Swords, wrapped in divine power, manifest behind Zoe.
Realizing what was happening, Fenrir’s smile slowly faded.
“Your plan is to kill me?”
“I suppose it’s not out of the question. After all, I can be reborn in twenty years. But would that really render the pact invalid?”
“Killing you won’t break the pact,” Zoe said, drawing one of the Judgment Swords and gently stroking its blade. “We simply want to borrow the Gate of the Dead and the power of the Gatekeeper's Law.”