Chapter 1772: Chapter 1771: Church of the Grim Reaper Headquarters and the Netherworld

The space illuminated by flames, flickering with bright radiance, now possessed a certain dimness.

He Ao raised his hand, and the raging fires wrapped around each mountain peak retracted swiftly like receding tides, surging into his body.

Soon after, these flames gathered inward and quickly dissipated, revealing white curly hair and pupils covered in a purple brilliance.

He Ao lowered his head, looking at the flames entwined around his hand.

Under his gaze, the flames further dissipated, merging into his skeletal hand, filling with dense flesh and a multitude of blood vessels.

An invisible sense of weakness surged toward He Ao.

The power of the Angel still acted upon this body, further tearing it apart.

He Ao took a deep breath, lifting his head to look ahead.

A massive skeletal throne stood before him.

This throne had pronounced armrests and a backrest, resembling a gigantic throne at first glance.

But its overall structure also resembled a tall building.

The enormous skeleton of the Skull Giant had shattered into scattered bone fragments, piled up like bricks to form the shape of the throne and structures like doors and windows.

Below the throne lay a wide domed gate, with an inverted triangle etched at its top, in which an open eye was embedded.

The eye’s gaze slightly lowered, seemingly watching the front of the gate, observing all figures arriving before this church.

A faint, cold feeling spread outward from the door.

That was death.

The inverted triangle with an embedded open eye was the mark of the Eye of Truth stolen by the Grim Reaper, symbolizing the Grim Reaper.

Engraving the Divine Being’s mark, this throne structure seemed like a place akin to a church.

However, the church itself was built to serve as a powerful ’guardian’ that could use Angel Designation.

He Ao gazed at the colossal bone structure.

After the Skull Giant’s collapse, those pristine bone fragments seemed to completely lose their solidity, presenting an illusory feeling.

It appeared as if it had lost its substance.

Even the enormous Throne Church seemed to lose its substance.

A certain twisted darkness enveloped this church, preventing He Ao from seeing the mountains behind it through the blackness.

In a trance, the church seemed to exist in another world, within a spatial crevice outside reality.

He Ao took a light breath, suppressing the pain in his body, remaining silent for a moment.

This architectural scale, along with its position and attributes, as well as this unique form of existence, did not resemble a normal Church of the Grim Reaper.

At least, the altar of the B-level strong man, Elijah, whom He Ao had encountered before, was not this advanced.

A thought surfaced in his mind.

Could this be the headquarters of the Church of the Grim Reaper? Were those convoys heading here?

He Ao raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the forest behind him.

The eagle that led him here traced the path rapidly restored in his mind.

In terms of geographical space, this Throne Church was indeed far behind the spot where the convoy was attacked.

That convoy already passed by this Throne Church.

However, it’s also possible that entering this Throne Church requires a detour.

Moreover, this church seemed somewhat ’strange.’ If this really was the headquarters of the Church of the Grim Reaper, there should certainly be Believers of the Grim Reaper present.

Even though the Skull Giant as a guardian was powerful enough, there should still be Believers active here since it’s a headquarters.

But presently, the windows and doors of the church were pitch black, and not a single Believer of the Grim Reaper or Undead was visible.

He Ao gazed at the illusory White Bone Throne Church, stepping forward.

And then, vaguely, he felt the church seemingly retreat ’a step.’

The distance between the church and him did not change.

He Ao continued forward, crossing several dozen meters in an instant.

Then he looked up, gazing ahead—the distance between him and the Throne Church remained unchanged, as if the church had retreated several dozen meters.

He Ao raised an eyebrow slightly, continuing ahead.

After crossing a certain boundary, the Throne Church suddenly vanished from in front of him.

He turned around, looking behind.

He saw a colossal White Bone Throne Church standing behind him, facing him, surrounded by a faint darkness.

He Ao gently raised his gaze.

This church seemed not to exist in the real world.

But there should be a way to enter the church.

He raised his hand, opening his palm to reveal the Illusion Badge in his palm.

Faint flames gathered in his palm, covering the illusion badge, then a slender line of fire surged from the badge.

He Ao raised his hand, giving a light flick, and this line of fire pierced through space, through the void, reaching the colossal White Bone Throne Church.

And at that moment, the line of fire seemed to fall into some kind of flowing water, gently trembling, then piercing through the darkness surrounding the church, reaching the door of the church.

Subsequently, He Ao lifted his hand slightly, and the slender line of fire rapidly contracted, anchored to the ground before the church door.

A faint purple radiance followed the line of fire, reaching before the church, He Ao raised his hand, giving a gentle pull.

The entire church trembled slightly.

The surrounding void also shivered slightly.

In that vibrating space, some twisted time and space revealed itself from hiding.

A slender path gradually emerged from the void, connecting to the road originally standing behind the Skull Giant.

This was a ’detour.’

But this detour wasn’t completely fixed to the ground; it seemed to extend downward constantly, like a narrow slope leading underground rather than to the White Bone Throne in front.

But before that Throne Church, one could faintly see an intersection emerge.

He Ao glanced at this path, then leaped onto it directly.

As he stepped onto the path, a faint cold aura surged from all directions, invading his body.

He lowered his head, continuing along this path.

"Ah~"

In the void, it seemed like an intangible voice was singing in a language He Ao could not understand.

But He Ao could vaguely discern the meaning of the singing voice—it was ’farewell.’

It seemed to be a song for the departed, guiding the deceased.

He Ao lifted his head, gazing to the sides—the mountains and burnt forests beside him were becoming blurred, illusory.

Until he plunged into utter darkness.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—

In the void, a chilling dampness emerged, followed closely by the sound of rushing water.

It seemed to come from the side of the road, yet it also seemed to come from below it.

He Ao turned his head to look at both sides, but what responded to him was only deep darkness.

He raised his hand to look at the Illusion Badge in his palm.

The faint line of fire was still connected in the void, extending continuously toward the road ahead.

The air around him grew colder. He Ao reached out to touch the bloodstained skin on the back of his hand. His skin remained warm, but beneath his skin, his flesh, his soul, felt a bone-chilling cold.

Even with an angel’s soul, walking on this path, he felt an irresistible chill.

He Ao raised his gaze, a faint gray arc flashed through his pupils. He tried to find the source and cause of the cold, but all that entered his eyes were densely packed lines.

This chill seemed to be some rule of cosmic essence, not the creation of magic.

And as He Ao attempted to glimpse these dense lines, more coldness emerged around him.

He withdrew his gaze, the dissipating cold accompanying him as he moved forward.

Soon, a stele appeared along the road ahead, the vaguely heard sound of rushing water grew louder, as if it were just beyond this stele.

He Ao stopped before the stele, observing its inscriptions.

The script on the stele was neither the language of the dungeon world nor any language He Ao recognized. Its structure resembled Denis text but seemed to have undergone some variation.

Observing this script, he did not receive the unique ’enlightenment’ of Denis text; instead, he felt an intangible chill and weakness, as if the script itself was seizing the reader’s life.

However, the good news was that the script seemed to share a function similar to Denis text, allowing the Reader to immediately understand its meaning upon seeing it.

’Through the secluded maze, the bereft deceased reach the river of forgetfulness, the gate of the Netherworld lies beyond.’

He Ao looked up, gazing past the stele, the secluded path beneath him stretched into the dim darkness, its exact appearance unclear.

Netherworld.

Whether in the dungeon world or the Main World, similar legends seemed to exist.

Hell is the Demon’s Kingdom, while the Netherworld is the abode of the departed.

Yet He Ao always thought this place didn’t exist. Since he awakened Spiritual Sight, the souls of the departed generally dissipated naturally, rather than heading to some place of rest.

The surviving undead either became Undead Servants, Skull Soldiers, or turned into fixed Extraordinary Materials, extracted by others—not a favorable outcome.

As He Ao gazed, an intangible lure seemed to radiate from the depths of the secluded path.

The song resonating in the darkness grew clearer, as if singing right beside He Ao’s ears.

He Ao instinctively lifted his foot, about to step past the stele and head toward the path’s end.

At that moment, a faint purple radiance flashed through his pupils, halting his action.

He looked down at his palm.

The glowing line of fire hadn’t extended toward the path’s depths but veered from in front of the stele.

And as He Ao’s gaze followed the line of fire, a vague ’alternate path’ appeared in front of the stele.

The alternate path seemed to have always been there; he just hadn’t noticed before.

Entering this path required an ’alternate path’, so leaving it might too.

He Ao lifted his head, glancing once more at the path extending beyond the stele.

The rushing water sound still drifted, and the elusive song continued to echo in the darkness.

Netherworld.

Hell has the Lord of Hell, does the Netherworld have its own master?

He shifted his sight to the alternate path beside him, at its end, a colossal Bone Church loomed faintly.

An eye embedded in an inverted triangle silently watched ahead, gazing at He Ao.

Death is the Grim Reaper’s Authority.

He Ao lowered his head, stepping onto the alternate path.

The singing in the surrounding darkness gradually blurred, though it persisted but grew distant and faint with He Ao’s advance.

The Illusion of the White Bone Throne Church became progressively substantial.

The eye embedded in the inverted triangle watched ahead, seemingly seeing everything and nothing.

At this moment, He Ao realized where this church was built.

In the crevice of the Netherworld and reality.

Thus, it lacked security arrangements, for nothing offers greater safety than the Netherworld’s allure.

For those who can resist its allure, ordinary security measures are pointless.

The disciples of the Grim Reaper hid well indeed, hardly surprising when Hawke and even the Federal Bureau of Investigation couldn’t trace them.

Though their hiding was deep, their proximity to Ains, home of angels, was audacious.

He Ao advanced, as the Bone Church fully manifested, finally reaching the church’s grand entrance.

The White Bone Throne Church was strikingly grand, yet eerily silent.

No sentinels, no guards.

No guards had been acceptable before, but now, it seemed peculiar.

He Ao furrowed his brow slightly, stepping up to the massive bone gate.

He attempted to push the bone gate, but it remained immobile.

He then raised his hand, unveiling the Illusion Badge in his palm. The slender flame quickly retracted, merging back into the badge, enveloping it in flame.

Creak—

Accompanied by this activation, the enormous gate towering before He Ao slowly opened, revealing the empty hall within.

He Ao looked up, gazing above, the eye etched on the gate still observed ahead, unchanged.

He Ao lowered his head, stepping into the vast hall.

No attacks, no rebukes, the vast hall felt deathly still, offering no response.

Was there truly no one in this church?

He Ao raised his gaze, surveying the surrounding walls of the hall.

White candles fixed on the walls emitted a ghostly white light, illuminating the hall as brightly as daylight.

Under the candlelight, exquisite murals seemed to depict some ancient mythological tale.

In religious settings, such mythological stories are common, used to convey the tales and greatness of their Divine Being.

Life Church has similar stories.

He Ao raised his gaze, quickly scanning across the murals on the walls.