Chapter 83

Harry Miren, the name of the Grand Cardinal leading the delegation from the Church, stood at the classroom door, took a deep breath, and firmly held the letter containing the secret given to him by his mother.

The white-haired old man slowly sighed, a trace of worry appearing between his brows.

Clearly, everything that had happened so far had left him mentally and physically exhausted. Since deciding to take the initiative and attempt to overwhelm Sigma with his presence outside Atlas City, the subsequent events had already slipped out of his control. The rising star of the necromancers was not a monster of exceptional intelligence, nor was he a cunning and wise strategist, but he still retaliated fiercely with his shameless and unscrupulous nature.

From the straightforward and open strategy to the pretentious verbal sparring, he had underestimated him. Because he was young, he had let his guard down, and in the end, he was outwitted and thoroughly toyed with.

The mental blow and disappointment were secondary; the key was... the banquet!

Thinking of this, Bishop Harry's stomach began to ache again, even though he had used holy light to soothe it repeatedly. His digestive system, which had served him diligently for decades, was still crying out in pain. It was clear that the grand banquet held by the necromancers had deeply hurt the old and frail body and the fragile heart of the Grand Cardinal. For the first time, he realized how terrible the necromancers' diet was—had he not seen the necromancers at the table expressionlessly eating the same food at a steady pace, he would have thought it was a clumsy and blatant attempt at poisoning.

The Church's holy servants were not enthusiastic about enjoying themselves; the food of the ascetic monks was only black bread and water, which could be used as blunt weapons. But at this moment, Bishop Harry firmly believed that if such things were called food, it would be a desecration of the beautiful thing that had nourished the countless lives of the Noren races...

Fried poison dart frogs, Nether grass stewed snails, spicy bone soup, dark hot pot, crazy slimes...

More outrageous than the increasingly exaggerated dish names were the even more bizarre-looking dishes themselves. But the members of the Church still had to swallow this bitter pill, because the necromancers were eating happily, and as guests, they had to give face. Moreover, the head chef, a beautiful and outstanding lady, a skilled mage, and a master alchemist, was standing by. If they said the food was "not good," the consequences would be severe...

Obviously, the encounter at the banquet was definitely the result of that petty little rascal's instructions and incitement.

And this was just the first day. Harry could imagine that in the not-so-short time to come, this cunning little brat would have many more tricks to torment him. In addition to being vigilant, the Grand Cardinal, who considered himself brave and decisive, also felt a faint sadness—clearly, being targeted by such a scheming little bastard was not a good thing.

He couldn't help but sigh again; this was a straightforward and open strategy.

If the other side had deliberately made the holy servants eat rough black bread and cold water, and live in dilapidated huts that leaked in every direction, it would have been fine. After all, as holy servants, they had all experienced a period of asceticism, and such tactics were not significant; everyone could accept them with pleasure, which would only highlight the other side's pettiness. However, that was not the case.

The necromancers received them with elaborate and tedious ceremonies.

There were also Grand Masters of the Holy Domain in attendance, and the powerful and beautiful head chef, a master alchemist, personally cooked. Various sumptuous and extremely difficult-to-eat dishes were served in a steady stream, making it a flawless banquet.

Finally, there was the most luxurious suite on the top floor of the most luxurious foreign guest hotel in Atlas, especially prepared for him, a room over two hundred square meters with all kinds of facilities, a truly grand reception.

So, this was the most uncomfortable part.

The other side's etiquette and demeanor were impeccable, and anyone would see it as the highest level of hospitality. But beneath this pretentious and hypocritical highest-level hospitality lay the rolling malice of a seemingly innocent but actually black-hearted little rascal. Especially the sumptuous and extremely welcome dark feast at the banquet, which could likely cause severe diarrhea, was clearly malicious. And the over two hundred square meter ultra-luxury room he was staying in, though it looked ultra-luxurious, had a decoration style that was clearly the necromancers' beloved death art...

For example, the ultra-luxury king-size bed, large enough for ten people to roll around on, was not made of expensive and luxurious wood or precious metal, but of the huge bones of an unknown creature, carved into a fierce shape, looking like a white coffin. Lying on the bed, one could see the bizarre and exaggerated ghost faces on the ceiling.

Then there was the soft sofa, which was more like a skull throne from various legendary stories. As for what kind of animal's skin the soft leather upholstery was made of, it was best not to delve too deeply.

The oil paintings hanging on the walls were extremely dark, with red and black as the main colors, and the paint was clearly made from blood.

In the corner stood an exaggeratedly shaped mummy, said to be a specimen of a certain orc sword saint.

And the bathroom.

The bathroom, where the water spouts from the bathtub were carved into the face of a woman with a distorted and fierce expression. The sculpture was so lifelike that a mentally normal person would absolutely not dare to soak in the bathtub, as anyone would suspect that the sculpture's wide-open mouth might spew out thick blood at any moment...

And the toilet.

The toilet, whose shape was a goblin head with a wide-open mouth, designed by some performance artist. Whether sitting on the toilet to defecate or urinating into it, it clearly required a strong mental fortitude...

The over two hundred square meter luxury suite had all the facilities, nothing was lacking, and the etiquette was impeccable. It was just that everything was filled with the necromancers' bizarre style, especially after the lights were turned off and the walls, painted with special materials, glowed faintly, making the various mummy specimens, skull wall hangings, bizarre oil paintings, and bone-carved furniture look even more terrifying, creating an illusion of being in the underworld...

This was a test of holy light...

The bishop could only comfort himself like this.

He had some concerns. Sigma's attitude of "I just want to torment you" was even making him struggle. Could the younger holy servants hold out?

At this moment, a knock came at the door.

A hooded holy servant entered at Bishop Harry's invitation.

"Your Excellency, should I approach Sigma?" a clear and steady female voice came from under the hood.

***

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