The group pushed the cart to the entrance of the ancestral hall; it was almost noon.

A simple altar has been set up in the open space outside the ancestral hall, and it is almost filled with various offerings, with only space reserved for the shrine.

The villagers had almost all arrived, and under the shaman's direction, they were all busy with their own tasks. Regardless of age or gender, their expressions were all the same: piety.

Seeing the players return, the village chief, leaning on his cane, walked over unhurriedly, circled the cart, counted the amount of wood, and nodded in satisfaction: "Very good, just the right amount, it's what's needed for the sacrifice."

Then he called the villagers over to get the wood, and sincerely said to Xiao Cheng and the others, "The true God will remember everyone's contributions."

A total of forty-eight pieces of peach wood were distributed to forty-eight households.

The shrine maiden took the remaining locust wood. She stared at the cross-section of the wood for a while, then suddenly asked with a serious expression, "Besides the wood, you didn't take anything else without permission, did you?"

"No, of course not," the group replied decisively.

As for the kitchen knife the little boy gave him, although the blade was dull, it was still good for self-defense for Player No. 7, who was recognized as having the lowest combat strength. Now it was tucked into his waistband and covered by his coat.

"That's good." The shrine maiden held the locust wood in her hands.

Just then, a loud rooster crowed, and she couldn't help but smile, looking at the ancestral hall with longing eyes: "Great, the time has come!"

The village chief stood solemnly beside the altar, tapping his cane heavily. All the villagers instantly fell silent, spontaneously forming a circle around the altar, and then knelt down heavily with a thud, prostrating themselves in a devout manner.

Xiao Cheng and his group stood out from the crowd on the outside, but fortunately, no one noticed them at all.

The witch hummed an eerie tune, her bare feet barely touching the ground as she walked with ancient sacrificial steps to the front of the altar, where she gracefully bowed in the direction of the shrine.

"please--"

She kowtowed three times in succession, then slowly rose and respectfully placed the locust wood in her arms onto the altar.

Immediately afterwards, all the villagers shouted in unison: "Please—the true God!"

Then two young, strong men stood up, took off the Nuo masks tied around their waists, and put them on their faces with both hands.

Around their necks hung wooden plaques similar to those at the entrance of the shrine maiden's house, except they were unmarked, looked new, and had small splinters of wood still stuck to the edges.

They walked side by side to the village chief, bowing slightly.

The village chief stretched out his large, blue-dyed hand and gently stroked their heads, then solemnly said, "Go, this is an honor that will be remembered by the true god."

As Xiao Cheng watched the two people enter the ancestral hall one after the other, she leaned closer to Fang He and whispered, "Are they going to move the shrine?"

“Obviously,” Fang He said calmly.

"That's it? I thought it would be more formal. Bathing and burning incense are too high a requirement. At least we should have washed our hands in a golden basin." Xiao Cheng looked curiously at the entrance of the ancestral hall.

The main gate was closed after the two went in, and there was no sound. A long time passed, and they still didn't come out.

The villagers knelt on the ground like wooden statues, without even raising their heads, without making the slightest movement.

The village chief, leaning on his cane, scanned everyone present through his eerie Nuo mask with his sharp, eagle-like gaze.

After releasing the locust wood, the shrine maiden continued humming a tune and dancing the ritual dance, repeating the same movements over and over, each time appearing more frantic than the last.

"They haven't come out yet? Could they really be retiring inside?" Xiao Cheng asked, somewhat surprised.

"It's hard to say. Maybe the true god is just shy and doesn't want to see anyone." Fang He's tone sounded particularly mocking, which could be described as quite disdainful of the so-called true god.

Xiao Cheng: "..." What the hell is this about being shy and not wanting to see anyone?

As the priestess began to repeat her dance movements once more, the shrine doors suddenly opened automatically.

It was pitch black inside, and nothing could be seen. A strange smell wafted over and lingered around everyone's nose.

Xiao Cheng was caught off guard and was choked by the fumes. Before she could even complain, she saw the villagers lying even lower, almost touching the ground, their bodies trembling uncontrollably. It was hard to tell whether they were scared or excited.

The village chief and the shrine maiden were genuinely excited.

They ran quickly to the front of the ancestral hall, stood on either side, and then knelt down together, raising their hands above their heads.

"Welcome—" the village chief shouted in a voice as loud as an ancient bell.

A blinding golden light flashed through the pitch-black doorway.

The first thing to appear was the shrine, upon which sat the true god with three heads and eight arms.

Then there are the two who together support the shrine...

A headless, burly man.

Their heads were severed at the shoulder, hanging bloodily from their sides. Also hanging there were the wooden plaques they had worn, the blood seeping deep into the wood grain, outlining blurred characters.

They are gods and sorcerers.

With each step they took, their heads and the wooden sign swayed. Xiao Cheng watched for a while, feeling somewhat nauseous, then suddenly thought of the lanterns and wooden signs hanging at the shrine's door.

It's so similar, it's uncanny!

The headless, burly man carried the shrine to the altar with heavy steps. Then, the two bodies collapsed to the ground as if deflated, quickly withering away until only a thin layer of skin remained on the bones.

Warm blood gushed from the severed neck, quickly pooling into a puddle. The two heads lay on the ground, their eyes wide open in death, yet their lips curled up in a grotesque, morbid smile.

But no one in the village seemed to think anything was wrong.

My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!