Chapter 94: The Hidden Altar
As the roots of the World Tree within Philip's space absorbed more of the sludge, something shifted.
The once-vague image he had been visualizing in his mind's eye began to gain form sharper edges, a clearer structure.
Philip now understood: this sludge wasn't just corrupted mana.
It was concentrated soul power tainted and refined to serve the will of its master. The cult had been harvesting souls for years, binding their essence into this dark slurry, all to feed their god and enslave the minds of their followers. Whoever ingested even a fragment of this filth would unknowingly open themselves to the god's influence a puppet waiting to be seized.
That would not be allowed to stand.
Philip pressed deeper into the temple.
Meanwhile, far below, hidden beneath layers of enchanted stone and ancient sigils, High Priest Odii knelt in a secret chamber one few in the entire Church even knew existed.
This was no ordinary safe room.
It was the true Altar of the Maw Beneath Ibadan.
Here, in a space shielded by powerful wards of faith and divine energy, Odii could commune with the Conclave of High Priests worldwide. Here he could beg for aid or attempt a last, desperate ritual.
He knelt now, head bowed, robes still damp with the blood of his interrupted sacrifice.
All around him, faint whispers echoed through the dark chamber prayers and screams from distant cultists still dying above. He could feel the slaughter happening floor by floor as that cursed demigod burned through their ranks.
But worse than the screams were the hisses soft, chilling noises coming from the Seed of Darkness now sitting on the altar.
The seed writhed faintly, its surface trembling as though some mind deep within it was slowly waking.
This seed…
It was not merely a tool.
It was an anchor a sliver of will from an ancient eldritch being, once a captive of the lost Emperor of Light.
For centuries, the thing had slept in its prison far beyond the stars, sealed away by divine laws. Yet once every year, when cosmic storms battered the Void between worlds, the being's prison would weaken ever so slightly.
It was then through careful rituals and faith offerings that Odii and his fellow High Priests could draw upon its essence, sending out seeds and collecting more worship, more blood, more despair to feed their master.
Earth was a faith farm.
A carefully cultivated field of endless conflict and human misery one that had fed the being for hundreds of years.
But now… something was wrong.
Something was hurting the seed.
The being's mind, usually vast and half-asleep, was stirring. And through their faint link, Odii could feel its rising anger.
World Tree aura... that cursed, ancient light… it is cleansing my seed...
A single, wrathful thought pressed against Odii's mind:
"Find him. Kill him."
Odii shuddered. His god's will was absolute.
But… how?
That man above the new demigod was far stronger than expected. Odii knew the moment he had seen Philip on the viewing crystal: this was no fledgling hunter or city lord. His aura alone had crippled the temple's best defenders.
And worse he was using a World Tree fragment. The one thing that could truly erase their master's corruption.
The being raged in its prison, helpless to act directly. But its hatred burned like a star.
Odii gulped down his fear and hurriedly activated the altar's Conclave Sigil, sending a coded distress signal to his fellow High Priests around the globe.
If any of them could reach him in time through blessed relics or faith miracles perhaps they could stall this disaster.
But already, the walls of the chamber trembled faintly. The seals around the room flickered once, then twice.
He's coming.
Odii scrambled to his feet. There were still options old rituals. Forbidden spells.
Anything to buy time. Anything to survive.
He tore open another hidden compartment pulling out blood-crusted scrolls and black talismans.
If he could summon even one fragment of the Maw's true form here just a sliver of that ancient god's might perhaps it could stop the demigod… or at least slow him down enough to escape.
The thought of death did not terrify Odii.
But worse than death was failure to lose the seed, to lose this vital foothold on Earth.
As he began chanting, dark energy coiling around him, Odii could feel the presence drawing nearer.
A wall of light and fire, wrath given form, descending into the depths.