The entire book radiated an invisible aura; merely approaching it made one feel a revulsion stemming from the instinct of life, while unspeakable, maddening whispers sprouted in the mind.
The book's cover was an indescribable shade of deep purple, resembling congealed blood. The edges of the pages were rough, and the material was certainly not ordinary paper; it was more like... specially tanned human skin, as thin as a cicada's wing!
The title was marked on the cover in three languages: Greek, Latin, and English.
the book of eibon
Holmes's grey eyes suddenly constricted, his sanity fracturing instantly like glass struck by a heavy hammer.
Merely staring directly at the book made his temples throb violently, as if cold worms were burrowing into his brain.
He forcibly suppressed his chaotic thoughts and reached out to try and touch the ominous book.
As soon as Holmes's fingers touched the book of eibon, which was made of shriveled human skin, a bone-chilling cold instantly pierced through his glove, reaching straight to his marrow.
The pages turned without wind, and the text upon them writhed like living things, flooding into Holmes's eyes alongside annotations in Greek, Latin, and English.
Twisted and complex arcane knowledge boiled in his mind, assaulting the palace of his thoughts.
Holmes resisted the roiling whispers in his mind and the twisted phantoms at the edge of his vision, quickly closing the book and stuffing it into a specially made pocket inside his trench coat, which he had prepared for storing "borrowed" items.
Just as he turned to leave the cramped secret chamber, a dull, chaotic sound of footsteps, accompanied by deliberately hushed conversation, came from the direction of the gap through which they had entered.
"God... what kind of hellish place is this..."
"...Stay alert! Dammit, this smell..."
"Mr. Williams? Mr. Sherlock? Are you in there?"
Is that Watson? And... more than one person? Holmes's heart tightened.
He slipped sideways out of the secret chamber's gap, just in time to see Dr. Watson shining a flashlight, stepping first into the candlelight at the edge of the hall with a grave expression.
Following closely behind was the burly, grim-faced Sheriff Marcus, along with four fully armed Police Officers wielding shotguns and high-intensity flashlights, though they could not hide the tension and confusion in their eyes.
"Watson! Sheriff!" Wright called out softly from the shadows, his voice carrying a hint of anxiety, "How did you..."
"On my way to meet up with you, I 'happened' to run into Sheriff Marcus and his squad, who had come to investigate because of the fire at the Theological Seminary."
"So we came to the chapel together, and then we saw the entrance to the secret chamber."
"We couldn't wait for a signal up there, and then we heard strange... chanting coming from underground?"
"Sheriff Marcus insisted on coming down to ensure 'public safety'."
Watson spoke rapidly, his tone carrying a note of helplessness.
Sheriff Marcus interrupted gruffly, his hand resting on his holster, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings: "Williams! What is going on here?"
"What kind of trick is that woman pulling? These rooms, these symbols... a sacrificial site? The report didn't say anything about such a massive operation!"
His voice echoed in the vaulted hall, sounding exceptionally abrupt.
The Police Officers scattered, their guns instinctively aimed at Claire in the central ritual circle, the beams of their high-intensity flashlights intersecting and locking onto her.
Claire Corinna's chanting came to an abrupt halt.
Struck by the intense light, she slowly raised her head, and beneath the shadow of her hood, the blood-drop pendant reflected an eerie red glow.
There was not a trace of panic on her face; instead, a twisted smile mixed with fanaticism, contempt, and cruelty appeared.
"Heh... uninvited lambs... daring to set foot in the place of the Holy Spirit's descent?"
Her voice was no longer low, but carried an inhuman, piercing resonance that cut through the air and pierced the eardrums.
"Very well, it is just as well to use your blood to add a few... appetizing dishes to my Lord's feast!"
She suddenly spread her arms, her deep red robe billowing without wind, and the blood-drop pendant on her chest suddenly erupted with a blinding crimson light!
Leo, Capricorn, Scorpio—the stone doors of these three rooms, marked by Joseph as dangerous, swung wide open with a boom.
Accompanied by beastly roars and the terrifying crisp sound of dislocated bones, several twisted figures rushed out.
Most of them were fanatical Cultists wearing tattered red robes, with hollow eyes and drool at the corners of their mouths, wielding machetes and crude, homemade nail hammers, emitting meaningless roars.
And the other two special ones... could no longer be called human!
One was a behemoth nearly two and a half meters tall, covered in writhing fat and hypertrophic muscle; one of its arms had mutated into a massive, fleshy warhammer, and the ground trembled slightly when it moved.
The Flesh Giant emitted a dull gurgling sound, standing like a wall of flesh, blocking the path to Claire.
The other had a hunched figure, its limbs long, thin, and twisted like a stick insect, with sharp bone spurs extending from its fingertips; it moved so fast it left afterimages, emitting a hissing sound like a snake flicking its tongue.
The Bone-Claw Insectoid was an agile and deadly hunter, moving eerily through the shadows at the edge of the ritual circle.
Everyone was witnessing these abominable, twisted flesh monstrosities for the first time; even the well-trained Police Officers could not hide their fear, with some gasping and others having trembling fingers.
"Fire! Suppress them!" Sheriff Marcus was experienced; though shocked, he was not flustered and immediately roared his order, being the first to draw his service weapon, aim at a charging ordinary Cultist, and pull the trigger.
Gunshots instantly exploded in the underground space, deafeningly loud!
Two Police Officers worked in tacit coordination, the roar of their shotguns blasting the leading ordinary Cultist backward, their chest a bloody mess.
Another Police Officer attempted to shoot the fast-moving Bone-Claw Insectoid, but the bullets only grazed the afterimages it left behind, striking the stone wall and sparking.
The last Police Officer was approached by a Cultist, who swung a machete down! He barely managed to block with his shotgun; the barrel was deeply gouged, and his arm was numbed by the shock.
The Flesh Giant let out a dull roar, ignoring the bullets fired at it; the bullets had little effect as they struck its thick fat and muscle.
It curled into a massive ball of flesh and, with a speed inconsistent with its size, rumbled toward two nearby Police Officers. The officers tried to dodge; one successfully rolled away, but the other was grazed!
The grazed Police Officer was like someone hit by a slow-moving truck; he was sent flying off the ground and slammed heavily against the stained rock wall.
He spat blood, the sound of his ribs breaking clearly audible, his shotgun flew from his hand, his vision went black, and he fell into a daze.
The Bone-Claw Insectoid appeared like a ghost behind a Police Officer who was grappling with a Cultist, its sharp claws turning into a blur of afterimages, instantly tearing several gashes deep enough to see bone into the officer's back.
The Police Officer screamed and fell to the ground, on the verge of death, as the Bone-Claw Insectoid licked the blood from its claws, emitting a satisfied hiss.
Watson drew his shotgun and launched a sneak attack from behind; the Bone-Claw Insectoid twisted quickly, but was still wounded, and after a roar, it retreated back into the shadows.
Watson rushed toward the Police Officer who had been wounded and knocked down by the Bone-Claw Insectoid, attempting to use a first-aid kit he had swiped from the Theological Seminary's infirmary to provide emergency treatment.
Wright was shaken by the wretched state of the Police Officer wounded by the flesh monstrosity, but a strong sense of responsibility and his belief in his promise to Catherine overwhelmed the suffocating feeling brought on by fear.
He took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and quickly drew his pistol, aiming at an ordinary Cultist attempting to pounce on Watson.
Pulling the trigger, the Cultist fell to the ground in response.
In the instant the police force broke in and caused chaos, Holmes's brain was already operating at high speed; while using his pistol to fire and provide cover, he was contemplating the key to breaking the deadlock.
Just then, Holmes's gaze suddenly froze on the entrance on the other side of the hall.
Two Cultists, also wearing red robes, were dragging a fainted figure into the hall—it was Catherine, who was being dragged along, completely unconscious, her face deathly pale in the dim red firelight.