Chapter 1148: Section 1149: The New Green Pattern
Whisperers.
Angel had once come across this term in books, which referred to a group of followers who offered their spirits as sacrifices to the Ancient Gods, gaining mysterious powers that could drive a person to madness with sinister whispers in their ears.
At the time, Angel had scoffed, thinking that whispers were nothing but annoying naggings and ramblings. He believed that anyone who endured relentless naggings would feel irritated, especially if it were brainwashing religious droning. If subjected to it for an extended period, he estimated it might indeed provoke madness in a person.
Therefore, he didn’t believe that whispers possessed any significant power.
Until now.
Angel felt as if his brain were about to explode with all sorts of cryptic whispers invading his ears, causing not only irritation but also making his mind turn hazy. An array of malevolent colors danced before his eyes: the gray-white of mixed brain matter, the black-red of dried blood, the oily yellow of corpse fat, the blue-green of shattered viscera… Accompanied by the whispers, these colors grew more profound, even carrying oppressive and horrifying images that continually flashed before his eyes.
Angel didn’t know if it was the Whisperers’ doing, but the whispers were indeed driving him to the brink of insanity.
The situation arose because of the statue in the center.
Angel had looked up to see the central statue slowly start to move. With a “clicking” sound, its wings gradually unfurled.
As the statue moved, Angel began to hear the whispers.
The whispers seemed to come from a distant, decaying world. Although indistinct, their disorienting and maddening effect was undiminished.
Angel didn’t comprehend the meaning behind the whispers, but their capacity to sweep through the Spirit Sea made him feel as if he were staring into the Abyss…
The end of the whispers came abruptly.
Angel had been crouching, clutching his head, emitting a hoarse roar. But in the next second, the whispers stopped.
Gasping for air, Angel was about to look for the cause when his gaze fell upon the central statue, and his expression froze, understanding dawning on him.
The cessation of the whispers was not without warning. When the statue’s wings were fully opened, the whispers stopped—as if its existence was solely to praise the unfolding wings, revealing the statue’s true face.
The true form of the statue was a demon with a tail.
Initially, Angel hadn’t recognized the identity of the demon until he noticed the hook-tailed demon carrying various books at its back, and then it struck him—a being known as a great entity even in the Abyss:
The Cruel Scholar!
A Demon God whose extensive knowledge even the human Wizards admired!
And the statue in the center was carved in the likeness of this great Demon God!
Angel was somewhat dazed, but he knew that Inscription Studies had been created by the Cruel Scholar, and that the Void Tower also bore the Cruel Scholar’s handiwork. It made sense for its statue to be present here.
The only thing Angel couldn’t fathom and what made him nervous was why the statue of the Cruel Scholar started to move as he prepared to leave the hall.
Could it be that his previous speculation was wrong and that there were indeed mechanisms in place here, such as this statue of the Demon God?
Was it like the Gargoyles kept by certain demons, which would come alive once certain conditions were met, attacking all intruders?
Angel wasn’t sure of the reality, but what he could ascertain was that whatever the nature of the statue before him, its ability to exert such terrifying pressure meant that it was not an entity he could confront.
Feeling uneasy, Angel’s mind raced, searching for a way to save himself.
Just then, the central statue suddenly spoke, and a strange voice entered Angel’s ears.
“Human.”
Before Angel could express his shock at his disguise being penetrated, he felt as if he were no longer in the underground hall but had appeared in a dark chaos. Deep within the chaos, a dim yellow light shone, revealing the figure of the Cruel Scholar.
As Angel raised his head to look at the Cruel Scholar, the latter also opened its eyes, which had been tightly shut until then.
Looking into those eyes, Angel’s pupils contracted—these eyes were identical to the one he had seen at the doorway when he was fumbling around earlier.
They exuded wisdom, an indifference that seemed to pierce through the essence of the world, and a sense of bloodshed concealed behind vast knowledge.
So, did the eye he saw earlier also belong to it?
And since the eye was linked to the Inscription that was closely related to the Cruel Scholar, could this statue before him… perhaps not be a mere statue, but an extension of the Cruel Scholar’s will?
“Human, tell me. What secrets are hidden in your soul?” The voice wasn’t in any known language, yet it transmitted directly into Angel’s mind.
At first, Angel was confused, not sure whether he was facing the will of the Cruel Scholar or some sort of masquerade.
Only after the question was asked did he come back to his senses and begin to ponder.
What secrets are hidden in my soul? Angel was startled for a moment. Was this referring to the itching on his back when he was almost seen through earlier?
“I don’t know,” Angel replied instinctively.
Angel hadn’t lied; even now, he couldn’t fathom what exactly was wrong with his soul. It seemed as if every person who probed the wounds in his soul met with some accident.
“People who probe your soul’s wound have accidents?”
Angel suddenly looked up, all his reactions fully invested in those profound eyes that seemed to see through everything.
You can read minds? Angel silently mouthed in his heart.
The other party didn’t speak, but those eyes seemed to have already explained everything.
Angel didn’t dare to let his thoughts wander anymore and forced his brain to go blank. But the other party seemed not to care at all, just quietly observing him, as before, as if seeing through him completely.
“Fragile flesh, yet harboring some interesting entities… Your arm is of great research value,” the other would whisper when he spoke. These whispers reached Angel’s ears and made him feel very uncomfortable, giving rise to various thoughts in his mind. And it seemed that the other was guiding which thoughts arose.
In other words, even if he didn’t speak, the other could see right through him by using some mysterious means.
With such terrifying power, Angel was almost certain that this Demon with a tail was indeed the conscious extension of the Cruel Scholar.