Chapter 45: Tier 1 Divine Artifacts

This was an age steeped in extreme superstition. Their fear of demons and ghosts was something modern people could scarcely imagine.

“What’s going on? Was that cry for help made by a monster?”

Phield frowned and summoned the minimap, checking it again and again, certain that there were no living entities inside.

“My lord, this is very strange. I’m sure there’s no living presence here. Still, please be careful,” Ashina said without hesitation, stepping in front of Phield. She was worried that something bizarre might suddenly rush out and attack the lord.

“There should be a basement inside. That sound felt hollow and prolonged, like it was coming from underground.”

After studying the minimap for a while and combining it with basic physical reasoning, Phield saw through the mystery.

“Your status is too important—please don’t approach yet. Let me scout first. Little wolf, protect the baron,” Ashina instructed, leaving Drakewolf behind. She drew her long blade, lowered her body slightly, and held the blade in a defensive posture as she cautiously made her way into the house.

“Help me!”

The cry suddenly rang out again from inside.

“The sound is coming from the corner,” Ashina said, ears pricked up. Following that eerie, distorted voice, she slowly approached the corner.

“Why would there be a carpet in a corner like this? And loggers wouldn’t buy wool carpets,” Ashina muttered as she scanned the room. Her eyes suddenly lit up as she noticed something unusual. She immediately lifted the dust-covered carpet, revealing a pull ring beneath it. After hesitating for a second, she reached out anyway. “As expected, a basement. Let me see what you really are.”

“Creak—”

As the hidden door was pulled open, an overwhelmingly strong stench of blood rushed out.

“Cough, cough… that’s disgusting.” Even as a Divine Chosen, Ashina was choked by it. She narrowed her eyes and looked down—and her pupils suddenly shrank. She instantly darted out of the danger zone, vast divine power gathering on her blade, ready to cleave whatever might leap out in half.

The atmosphere grew extremely tense. Phield did his best to stay calm, while the guards raised shields and leveled their halberds.

One minute… two minutes…

Three minutes passed, yet no enemy appeared.

Ashina flicked her tail. “Huh? I clearly saw a woman dressed in white.”

“No rush. We still have time,” Phield said, trying to reassure her.

“This is really strange,” Ashina said, now genuinely curious. She cautiously leaned toward the basement entrance again and looked for a while, then let out a long breath. “My lord, there’s no danger. There’s a magical device in the basement that preserves sound and images. The magical fluctuations were probably too weak, so I didn’t sense them.”

The moment she said that, several slaves went limp all over, collapsing to the ground like mud.

Phield wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and laughed. “That’s good. It’s probably a recording stone. I saw something like that when I visited the Mage Association in Maple Leaf City.”

Still, in the Northern Frontier Province—a land filled with death—hearing human cries for help was truly terrifying.

“Ben, stay outside and protect the slaves. Have them collect the spoils. I’ll go down and take a look.”

After ventilating the basement, Phield and Ashina stepped down the rickety stairs into the underground chamber.

“Fuck!”

Phield was instantly shocked by the scene before him.

Even someone used to seeing corrupted corpses froze in horror. Phield stood rigid, sucking in a sharp breath.

The room was piled with countless human “fragments.” At the same time, five young girls—only their upper bodies remaining—were nailed naked to the walls, their bodies split open. Their dried intestines, mixed with disgusting corrupted worms, spilled onto the floor. Blood from all directions converged at the center of the basement, forming an eerie ritual array.

At the center of the array lay another girl, dead for at least three years, nearly fused with the floor itself. Judging by her nun’s garments, it was easy to tell she belonged to the church.

Of course, the most compelling evidence was the recording stone that kept replaying.

A girl in white robes appeared, her eyes filled with terror as she screamed in despair, “Help me!”

Then a shadowy figure—its form unclear—severed her limbs and tossed in a bug.

Once the insect burrowed into her body, massive clouds of blood instantly exploded outward, accompanied by writhing tentacles, bizarre incantations, and the girl’s agonized screams.

After the recording finished, it paused briefly—then began playing again.

The grotesque images, paired with the hellish scenery, thoroughly terrified Phield.

The two of them looked at each other, at a loss for words.

After a moment of silence, Ashina said in surprise, “My lord… she was a Divine Chosen.”

“Mm. You mean someone was hunting Holy Light Divine Chosen?” Phield had already steadied his emotions. Rubbing his chin, he shifted into a political mindset shaped by status and habit. “It could’ve been ordered by the Empress. The Sacred Griffin Empire wanting to break free from the Papal State’s interference isn’t exactly a secret anymore. Of course, it could also be provocation from the Kingdom of Franveria.”

Ashina was dumbfounded, her face blank. “Huh? What?.”

Human imperial diplomacy and politics—how would a wolf demi-human know anything about that?

“Hm? Right—how did you know she was a Divine Chosen?” Phield abandoned the pointless speculation. Imperial diplomacy had nothing to do with him anyway.

Ashina strode forward and removed an exquisitely crafted silver brooch from the corpse, so dazzling it almost hurt the eyes. She shook it lightly in her hand. “Because of this. Look—no wonder I didn’t sense any magical energy earlier. The recording stone is powered by divine power.”

Only then did Phield notice the gentle, mysterious glow filling the area, along with an icy chill. He had assumed it was due to the basement, but it was all emanating from that small brooch.

The moment the brooch was removed, the recording stone stopped functioning. The girl’s tragic fate slowly faded away, leaving only a soft silver glow in the basement.

Phield didn’t care about the recording stone at all. He took the brooch from Ashina’s hand—it had sat among corpses in the basement for so long, yet it wasn’t tainted by even the slightest impurity.

Staring intently at the mysterious brooch, a flash of astonishment crossed Phield’s eyes as he murmured, “Why does this feel… similar to my family’s divine artifacts?”

Just the exquisite craftsmanship alone was something even modern machines couldn’t replicate—let alone the profound, mysterious power contained within.

“Because it is a first-tier divine artifact. Otherwise, how would it contain divine power?” Ashina crossed her arms, looking unconvinced. “Is that really so strange? Even though I don’t have a divine artifact, I do have a divine gift. You can touch Drakewolf if you want.”

There were many kinds of divine gifts. After awakening, every Divine Chosen would receive one at random—the most common being weapons.

“Ahem. Touching you is enough,” Phield said, overjoyed yet still mindful of Ashina’s feelings. He promptly reached out and patted her head.

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