# Chapter 6: Black Blood Plague
Beneath Saint Lawrence Cathedral, there was a heavily guarded dungeon.
On the Mycroft Continent, the fact that churches had dungeons was considered a well-known "secret." Through various knight novels and historical documents, even commoners knew that where there was a sacred place, darkness would inevitably follow. When dealing with these lawless criminals and cultists, even the kindest priests who distributed food to the poor would show no mercy whatsoever.
Because these were beings who had betrayed their identity as humans, abandoned human morality, and separated themselves from human society—unquestionably non-human dregs. When dealing with these hateful existences, no prayers were needed, no confessions required. No matter how cruel the methods used, they would be forgiven.
No one questioned this, for the stories about cults circulating among the people made everyone understand—this was justice.
Crossing an inconspicuous dark corridor, walking down stairs built of granite, opening two doors forged from refined steel, and passing through narrow passages covered with divine spell traps, Joshua and the others arrived at this dark dungeon fifty meters below the surface.
Built with solid granite over a meter thick as its foundation, then poured with molten iron and steel, the Saint Lawrence Dungeon was less a basement and more like a giant iron pot buried deep underground. It had no gaps, was completely airtight, used divine spells to purify the air, ensured absolute isolation from the outside, and was covered with countless divine spells that blocked all communication.
One could say that entering here meant complete isolation from the outside world.
All the cultists in Moldavia were imprisoned here awaiting execution. The day of their execution was the Harvest Festival every autumn. On that day, the city's great square would be filled with various torture instruments—crosses, guillotines, pyres, and so on—all prepared. Then, according to the people's wishes, different cultists would receive different death sentences.
Imperial Code, Article Thirty-Seven: The type of punishment, especially the type of death sentence, is determined by the people.
On both sides of the dungeon hung dim Glowstone Lamps. Their grayish silver light flickered, illuminating the dust in the air. Led by Archbishop Verdani, Joshua and the others passed through the outer cells, which were empty and covered in dust, as if no one had been inside for a long time. Noticing the warrior's curious gaze, the old archbishop explained, "The Northern Lands haven't seen cultists for a very long time."
After arriving here, Verdani's voice became low and serious. The usually kind archbishop's eyes flickered with a cold and pained light. "Aside from a few sacrifice incidents that occurred during my childhood years, no cultists have appeared in Moldavia for sixty or seventy years."
—And my sister disappeared back then, with no news to this day.
This sentence remained unspoken. The old archbishop simply continued in a low voice, "These cultists count as the first batch during my tenure. I placed them in the innermost cells."
Joshua noticed that, according to Mycroft Continent common language grammar, the old archbishop used "it" for those cultists, not "he" or "she."
But what did that matter? Thinking indifferently, the warrior shrugged. Cultists weren't human anyway.
They were monsters born from Chaos devouring human hearts.
"Your Grace!"
Several knights were guarding the dungeon. Hearing footsteps, they warily came out. But when they discovered it was Archbishop Verdani, these knights lowered their heads with respect and let the group pass.
"Your hard work is appreciated. The Lord wishes to see those cultists today as well. Guard the door well."
Nodding slightly to these knights, the old archbishop paused, then gave a serious order: "Later, no matter what sounds you hear, do not approach."
"Yes!"
The knights responded in unison. They didn't find anything strange about this. It was perfectly normal for the Lord to interrogate cultists in his territory—so normal that no one could find a reason to be suspicious. As for how the cultists would be dealt with, what screams and wails they would make—that was all irrelevant.
Anyone who had seen the scene of a cult sacrifice, no matter how saintly, would never have the slightest sympathy for those dregs.
Fortunately, these knights had lowered their heads and hadn't seen Joshua's face. Even if some had raised their heads and caught a glimpse of the warrior's profile or the back of his head, the intimidation wouldn't have been as great—at most a palpitation, then a sigh of emotion (gankai) about their Lord's powerful aura and heavy majesty. Otherwise, it would certainly have caused panic and chaos.
The deepest part of the dungeon was pitch black. The Glowstone Lamps hanging here had been replaced with a strange magical artifact—a rhombus-shaped (lingxing) purple crystal that emitted a hazy magical radiance. Joshua extended a finger to sense its magical fluctuations (bodong) and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Anti-Magic Field?"
"And an anti-invisibility field. Whether using magic or Battle Qi, no one can sneak in here."
Answering the warrior's words, Archbishop Verdani stopped walking. He was silent for a moment, then said, "We're here."
After that, he clapped his hands. A wave of Holy Light power spread out, as if activating some formation. Suddenly, dazzling positive energy light poured down from the ceiling, illuminating the dark depths of the dungeon brilliantly.
"AAAAHHHH!!!"
"Turn it off, turn it off!!!"
"WAAAAHHHH!!!"
Immediately, countless screams came from the previously silent corners. Joshua squinted slightly, using the light to scan his surroundings.
This was an oval hall. Around the hall were thirty extremely narrow cells—so small that one couldn't stand or lie down, only squat. The outer perimeter of the cells had double-layered refined steel bars, on which visible Holy Light patterns flowed, looking extremely sturdy.
Most of these cells were empty. Their floors were stained with black-red traces, their walls covered with spreading dark red (anhongse) patterns, and there were even suspicious yellow grease (youzhi) seeping into the wall cracks.
In the cells that weren't empty, humanoid figures were writhing madly, screaming. When the positive energy light hit them, black smoke rose from their bodies. But confined to the narrow cells, they couldn't stand up or lie down. Long-term squatting had turned their knees into solid lumps of iron, completely immobile.
"These are the ones. Don't let their current miserable state fool you—they're actually very stubborn. We interrogated them for a long time and got nothing."
Speaking in a tone Joshua had never heard before, yet which felt disturbingly normal, Verdani's face was as cold as steel. "Eight died in previous interrogations. Nineteen remain now. My child, do whatever you want with them. Even if they all die, it doesn't matter."
As long as information could be obtained.
"Damned false god worshippers—"
Hearing this, a prisoner who had been screaming in its cell suddenly raised its head. In a slurred voice, as if laughing maniacally, it said, "You'll never know what you're about to face. My Lord's gospel is about to descend. You will fall into despair, hahahahaha!!"
The other humanoid figures in the cells seemed encouraged by this prisoner's words. The screams stopped, replaced by various obscenities and blasphemous prayers. One voice was particularly loud: "You won't know anything!"
These prisoners all had unmistakably human appearances—eyes, noses, ears, mouths. However, although hunger and fatigue had made their bodies gaunt to the point of being skin and bones, with eye sockets deeply sunken, one look at their expressions would tell you that no human could make such faces.
It was as if a layer of mud had been smeared over their bones. That lump of mud-like flesh kept flowing, forming twisted, grotesque expressions—seemingly laughing, seemingly howling in pain. Their skin was covered with bulging blood vessels and veins, pulsing and twitching, with dark purple liquid visible flowing beneath. These cultists' eyes were tightly shut from the intense positive energy light, but through the thin eyelids, their eyeballs could be seen twisting in extremely unnatural ways.
Gradually adapting to the positive energy light, these cultists began to open their eyes, looking toward the center of the cell hall.
Without exception, their eyes flickered with a sickening deep green light, like something rotting. This light was like a vortex, twisted and profound, making one involuntarily think of bottomless muddy swamps.
"Don't want to talk? That's not for you to decide."
Ignoring these completely insane cultists, the old archbishop smiled coldly. He turned, patted Joshua on the shoulder, and said in a deep voice, "I leave it to you."
Don't show mercy to these monsters.
Then he stepped aside and walked out of the cell hall.
"No problem."
As the other passed by him, Joshua said softly, "I have no mercy for enemies."
After that, he gestured for Ying and Lin to leave with Verdani. Although the Divine Mechanism siblings hesitated, they obeyed their master's will and followed the old archbishop out of the cell hall.
As the footsteps of Verdani and the other three gradually faded away, the warrior stepped forward to the center of the cell hall. With a ferocious grin, he swept his gaze across all the cells and said in a voice as cold as polar ice, "Break time is over."
"Now, look at me!"
The cultists had been somewhat confused by the old archbishop's sudden departure. They didn't understand why Verdani, as a clergy member, would so confidently entrust the interrogation to a stranger. But none of that mattered now. Just as these creatures were about to burst out laughing at the man before them, the air suddenly froze.
Because they all saw Joshua's face.
What was that feeling? No one could describe it. It was as if the air in their lungs was instantly sucked out, their throats could only make gurgling, spasming sounds. All the cultists immediately shut their mouths, their teeth chattering uncontrollably, making trembling sounds.
The originally bright, dazzling positive energy light, brighter than the sun, seemed to dim instantly. Endless black mist was emanating from the man standing in the center of the cell hall. This black mist appeared to be just ink-like fog, but countless ferocious (zhengning) monster faces emerged from within it. A pressure as heavy as the deep sea materialized, pressing down on all the cultists. They wanted to gasp for breath but despairingly found their lungs refusing to work from fear, waiting bit by bit for suffocation to come.
Unable to collapse, unable to kneel. The nasal cavity was filled with a thick smell of rust. The narrow cells didn't even allow these prisoners to turn their heads. Their necks and eyeballs also refused to work, unable to lower or close, only waiting for their consciousness to gradually blur.
The cultist closest to Joshua seemed to see a demon god from hell, and this demon god was slowly approaching. It raised a hand composed of black steel and blades, reaching toward it.
Just before completely losing consciousness, this cultist felt a hand grab its hair and lift its head. It saw a pair of blood-red, seemingly burning eyes staring into its own. Piercing cold flowed through its marrow and blood vessels, instantly sharpening its consciousness.
"Tell me everything you know!"
Hearing a clanging sound like steel grinding, the consciousness that had been contaminated by Chaos seemed to be struck by a giant hammer. This cultist felt its entire soul shake violently. Endless despair plunged its heart into an abyss. Its eyes instantly became confused, its lips trembled slightly, then slowly opened. The will that hadn't budged even after half a month of torture by the knights was now on the verge of collapse.
But just as it was about to open its mouth and reveal all truths and secrets, this cultist suddenly bulged its eyes and let out a violent, agonized scream.
This sound was so piercing, far more painful than when it was being irradiated by positive energy light. Even Joshua could feel the pain coming from deep within its soul. Under the warrior's gaze, this cultist's two eyeballs seemed about to jump out of their sockets. Its originally gaunt body began to swell violently. Its face, covered with blood vessels and veins, turned blue-purple. The liquid inside made a viscous flowing sound.
"No! My Lord, no! I didn't say anything, I didn't say anything—WAAAAHHHH!!!!!"
A piercing, distorted scream burst from this cultist's throat—already at a non-human level of pitch. Joshua released his grip, letting go of its hair. He frowned as he watched this scene, his eyes full of gravity.
This cultist had originally been a man—one could tell from his still somewhat passable appearance. But now, no one could discern any information from his face. The piece of flesh once called a face had turned blue-black. Everything beneath the skin seemed to have been completely dissolved, making it look as if his face might fall off his skull at any moment.
"Pfft—"
Suddenly, a stream of purple-red blood shot out from the cultist's ear holes. A foul stench immediately filled the entire cell hall. The positive energy light shone continuously, purifying this Chaos aura carrying the nauseating stench. After the blood sprayed from its ears, the cultist's body became motionless. It no longer struggled, no longer screamed, but stood frozen like a zombie. Blood flowed from its eyes. Its gaunt body was now eerily swollen.
"Unexpected... I thought it was just an ordinary cult attack. I never imagined it would be this situation."
His frown growing tighter and tighter until it was completely furrowed, Joshua's expression was extremely serious. Ignoring the other prisoners who had long since fainted, he stared intently at this cultist that seemed to have died, muttering to himself, "Earlier? No, it should have originally happened in the Far South. In my previous life, I didn't pay attention to the Northern Lands, so perhaps the same thing happened here too..."
As Joshua murmured to himself, other strange changes began to occur on this cultist's body. First, its swollen body suddenly burst open. A massive amount of black turbid liquid gushed out through the cracks from beneath the leather-like skin. Then, clumps of semi-melted internal organs also leaked through the skin's gaps. Finally, as if corroded, they completely dissolved into the warm black turbid liquid.
Because all its flesh and internal organs had been dissolved by this black liquid and flowed out, only a layer of skin supported by bones remained of the original cultist. As for the person, it was naturally dead beyond dead.
"Black Blood Plague."
"A major move by the Plague Evil God."
"The super plague that killed sixty percent of the population in the Far South coastal area back then."
Turning without any lingering attachment, Joshua's expression had completely turned cold.
"This matter can't be handled by the Northern Lands alone. To deal with a plague, the entire nation's strength must be mobilized. I need to report to the Imperial Capital as soon as possible and inform His Majesty the Emperor."
Yin Tian Shen Yin said: This chapter was revised back and forth many times, and I'm still relatively satisfied with it now.