Chapter 67

The figure in the black robe was enveloped in darkness, gradually fading and blending into the black aura. In the darkness, his broad back trembled slightly, causing the black shadow to ripple as if the black robe had turned into a shadow, ready to devour all the light in the darkness. The black robe clung tightly to his back, drenched and soaked with sweat.

Cold sweat trickled down the black-robed man's temples and eyebrows, his whole body trembling slightly, clearly exerting all his strength. However, no matter how hard he tried, the entire summoning ritual always failed at the final step.

The cold, stern face of the black-robed man, shrouded in black aura, was covered in frost. His hands were tightly clenched, as if two beasts were wrestling, muscles bulging like stone.

No, still no. A gray mist suddenly rose in the black-robed man's eyes, devoid of the look of a living person. A thread of dark red appeared in the mist, so dark it seemed as black as ink. In the darkness, this thread of color seemed to turn all the darkness into black, tainted blood, emitting a strong, pungent smell of blood.

A jet of blood spurted from the black-robed man's mouth, landing on the summoning ritual in front of him.

Silence, a deathly silence. The blood did not activate the magic array on the ground but fell weakly, making a faint sound.

The darkness faded, and the white moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the summoning ritual on the ground and the black-robed man.

"How could it fail!" A warrior-dressed person whispered in shock. Not only did it fail, but it failed even with the black-robed man using the blood sacrifice ritual.

Having already used the blood sacrifice ritual, he still couldn't summon the dead soul, which was simply unbelievable.

The black-robed man sat on the ground, expressionless, barely suppressing the trembling in his legs, his body drained of strength. It took a long time for him to recover somewhat.

"The people of the Short Sword Guild were killed by an extremely powerful divine spell, not just their consciousness but their souls were scattered and obliterated." The black-robed man stared at the failed summoning ritual, his eyes fierce like a beast ready to pounce, ruthless and merciless.

Even when talking about his recent failure, his tone remained calm. But this calmness carried a hint of unwillingness and resentment. Even though he couldn't summon the dead souls with the summoning ritual, he still wanted to do something.

"The souls were scattered...?" The warrior-dressed followers of the evil god could hardly believe it. The implications were clear, but no one knew how powerful a divine spell could achieve this.

"Who could have done this?" The warrior-dressed follower of the evil god muttered to himself.

"Is there anyone in Moonlight City who can cast such a powerful divine spell? Is it Price or someone else?"

"It's none of them; they can't do it. As for who exactly did it, I don't know."

As he spoke, the black-robed man stood up from the ground. Although he was still somewhat weak from the blood sacrifice ritual, he didn't linger in the Short Sword Guild. Several followers of the evil god walked out of the Short Sword Guild's building and disappeared into the night.

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Jiang Junming lay in bed, feeling the enhanced strength of his body and the sensations in his wrists, palms, and fingers during the process of making a weak healing potion. He gently moved his hands, trying to get used to and adapt to the changes.

The enhanced perception made Jiang Junming very uncomfortable. He could hear many subtle sounds and feel the finest fibers of the bedsheet and pillowcase. This sensation was hard to get used to immediately, and Jiang Junming tried to control his senses, much like he did in the six-sided rectangular space of the optical brain, striving to master the changes.

After a night, Jiang Junming finally got slightly used to the enhanced perception. The sun rose, and sunlight filtered through the shadows of the trees in front of the house. Everything looked familiar yet more vivid and clear. Looking far into the distance, Jiang Junming could even see the towering spire of the mage's tower, and the texture of the materials on it was faintly visible.

This time, entering the six-sided rectangular space of the optical brain, Jiang Junming made significant progress. After a night of practice, he had initially adapted to the changes in his body. There was nothing much to do in the next few days, just waiting for the other new students. Jiang Junming had no interest in watching the new students and spent his time in the quiet corner of the church, getting used to the changes in his body, much like when he learned a new procedure in the medical school's affiliated hospital and worked hard to fully master it. Priestess Ilana had not called Jiang Junming to pray and seemed to have disappeared, not appearing in front of Jiang Junming again.

Occasionally, when Jiang Junming was not busy, he would recall the slender figure of Priestess Ilana, unable to shake it off.

Five days passed in the blink of an eye, and Jiang Junming had almost completely adapted to the enhanced perception and the changes in his hands.

During these five days, many new young students had joined the church school, having passed the second round of interviews. They had heard from others about a smiling young man who had caused a sensation on his first day of school. Some were curious, some puzzled, and some jealous.

On the sixth morning, Jiang Junming arrived early at the church school, preparing for the opening ceremony.

On the same empty ground as the first day, the students chatted while waiting. Being young and lively, many quickly became familiar with each other, discussing their experiences over the past few days. Having just arrived at the church school, everyone was unfamiliar with the place, and the only topic of conversation was the second round of interviews. The most legendary event in the interviews was Jiang Junming's incredible reception of divine power, the two old priests publicly inviting him to change his faith, and the story of a severely injured person, whom even divine spells could not heal, being cured by Jiang Junming's incomprehensible method.

After several days of word-of-mouth, the events of that day had become vague and exaggerated. Even now, when Jiang Junming heard the students talking about what he did that day, he couldn't believe it was about him.

Tirada stood in the first row, not speaking to anyone around him, standing proudly, looking different from the others. Originally, Tirada thought he would be the center of attention, as he had always been since childhood. No matter where he went, he was always the focus of everyone's attention. Whether it was his family background, appearance, talent, or anything else, Tirada considered himself outstanding. Being the center of attention, being discussed and envied, was the most normal thing.

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Xiaolong seeks all kinds of support!

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