So, the Annihilation Cultists began to pray.

In the dim light of the oil lamp, in the deathly stagnant atmosphere, in this deep and cold gathering place, under the gaze of the Holy Lord of the Deep.

A mentally deranged and reckless member brought the irremovable shadow into this gathering place. From now on, anyone who leaves the gathering place may bring that shadow to other compatriots, just as what happened just now. Therefore, they will not leave here again - under the witness and encouragement of the messenger, these devout and fanatical believers will choose a calm and loyal sacrifice.

They were determined to bring the secrets they knew to the Kingdom of the Lord and would not reveal a single word to the ghost.

At least, that's what they decided now - a moment of courage is always easy to do.

The cultists prayed silently, constantly calling for the blessing of the Holy Lord of the Deep in the secret room, while the messenger sat quietly at the round table, looking calmly at every face in the room, watching these people's determination, tension, bravery, fear and hesitation.

An unknown amount of time passed like this. The flame of the oil lamp on the table flickered and flickered. During one of the leaps of light, one of them seemed to hear a faint voice:

"...I'll give you one chance."

Some people looked up in horror, looking for the source of the sound, some closed their eyes tightly, as if they were afraid that they had really seen something. However, the sound had already dissipated into the air, as if it had never appeared.

"Keep praying," the messenger said softly, with some kind of bewitching power in his words, "The ghost is powerless. He has nothing else to threaten us except death, and death itself is the quickest way to the kingdom of the Lord."

In the past, the messenger's words always brought courage to people and made even the most uneasy followers quickly regain their resolve. However, for some reason, every word he said this time only made people feel the chill of approaching terror.

An increasingly intense sense of uneasiness is spreading in the gathering place. Fear is approaching the boundary of sanity. Instability is gradually growing in silence. Not everyone is the most devout saint, and for those who are not devout enough... now is the time to lose their sanity.

Finally, a believer screamed. He was the smallest one. He seemed to have seen something terrible. He jumped up from his chair and shouted, "I'll tell you! I'll tell you! I know what's going on!"

The messenger instantly stood up from his chair and shouted in shock and anger: "Hold him down!"

Several figures around the round table rushed forward, violently and angrily grabbing the thin figure, pressing him tightly on the table, and trying to cover his mouth to prevent him from revealing the Lord's secrets. However, the thin figure erupted with amazing resistance. He struggled violently, and dark chains emerged around him. Horrible bone spurs and keratinized structures emerged on his limbs, making him almost break free from the restraints of his "compatriots", while constantly shouting:

"It was the missionaries of the End who gave us the information! They claimed that the Dream of the Nameless Ones contained the truth of the beginning of creation and the most original blueprint of the Lord...

"The dreams of the elves can lead to the dreams of the nameless! This race itself is the carrier and channel of dreams, because they have defects in the blueprint stage...

“The followers of the Black Sun are also on the move, but they are looking for something else, and I don’t know what they are looking for!

"The End Preachers said that the time is near, but this is all I know... This is all I know, Mr. Duncan. Only the prophets and saints know more information, as well as those End Preachers. They know... This is really all I know!"

The skinny cultist was struggling and shouting rapidly. In the great fear, he summoned another level of courage - the courage to betray his faith. But then, he raised his head with all his strength and looked at the "messenger" not far away with tears streaming down his face. After the brief courage, he was filled with new fear: "I'm sorry, I just want to live, I want to live..."

Then he screamed again: "Mr. Duncan! Please protect me! Don't let the messenger kill me! I have fulfilled my promise - you said you would give me a chance! You said...you would..."

The heavy pressure on his shoulders weakened, and the thin cultist, who was screaming in fear, finally realized the change in the atmosphere and slowly stopped.

From beginning to end, his screams were the only ones that could be heard in the meeting hall. His "compatriots" held him down, but no one could really stop him from shouting. The messengers were watching him, but they never actually took any action.

He widened his eyes and watched the messenger slowly put his hands on the round table and gave him a gentle smile: "You see, it's not that difficult to say it."

Around the round table, the believers who had previously worked together to press him down on the table also retreated one by one.

These "compatriots" surrounded him and looked at him, with slightly stiff and gentle smiles on their faces, and then they applauded one after another.

The thin cultist's eyes were wide open. He looked at everyone in the gathering place with horror, and finally spoke with trembling lips: "Messenger... Sir Duncan, and Duncan, Duncan, you are all..."

Creepy whistles and roars rang out one after another, and one after another dark demons emerged in the gathering place, constantly disintegrating or struggling to break their chains and escape from the real world. As these symbiotic demons disintegrated or escaped, every figure in the eyes of the thin cultist (including the "messenger") began to spontaneously combust rapidly.

The last burning figure walked towards the skinny cultist before collapsing and patted his shoulder with a smile: "You too."

The assembly hall fell silent.

The thin figure stood quietly among the countless black ashes. After a few seconds, he suddenly blinked, then quickly returned to the round table, reached out to take the paper and pen on the table, and quickly wrote a page.

Then he grabbed the paper and walked to the exit of the basement - the "thorns" summoned by the messenger before were still blocking the door, and the sinister dark power was surging in the thorns.

But in just a moment, the thorn bush burst into flames, and the dark green spiritual fire turned it into ashes. The door behind the thorn bush opened with a push.

Duncan quickly walked through the basement door where the embers were still burning, passed through the dilapidated buildings on the surface, and then his figure soared into the air in flames...

A patrolling guard looked in astonishment at a ball of dark green flame falling on the street in front of him. He subconsciously raised his weapon and saw a staggering figure walking out of the dark green flame, seemingly collapsing and disintegrating.

The thin figure that was constantly collapsing and disintegrating, dangerous and suspicious, walked over quickly with a bright smile on his face: "Hello, I want to report heresy."

The guard who was about to blow the whistle and rush forward with his sword was stunned for a moment.

He had served the church for many years, and this was the first time he encountered such a... whistleblower. He was stunned and subconsciously asked, "Report?"

"Yes, it's in the basement of the house at the end of the alley in front, the house with a blue sloping roof. This is a letter of complaint with a general description of their gathering. At the end is an anonymous bank account. Please transfer the reward for reporting directly to the account. Thank you."

The guard stared at this suspicious and strange guy in a daze. After listening to his chatter, he raised his finger and pointed at his face, which was constantly turning into ashes. "Sir, you don't look very well..."

"I know. I tried my best to maintain it, but it seems that my method is not right. It is only stable for fifteen minutes longer than usual. Don't worry. Just don't forget to transfer the money..."

The young defender took the letter of complaint in a daze. Before the other party completely collapsed, he finally remembered a question: "Sir, what is your name?"

"Just a zealous heretic..."

※※※

On the Lost Homeland, in the captain's room, Duncan came back to his senses and let out a long breath.

His main consciousness returned to the ship.

The goat head on the edge of the navigation table reacted immediately and turned towards this side: "Ah, great captain - it seems that you have made a great harvest?"

"We got some useful information from a group of cultists who were having a secret gathering. Unfortunately, we didn't have enough time to identify which city-state they were from. We also don't know if there are other gathering points nearby," Duncan exhaled, raised his hand and rubbed his forehead vigorously. "But it's not a big problem. I think we will continue to deal with them soon..."

On the wall not far away, shadows floated on the surface of the quaint oval mirror. Agatha's figure emerged from the mirror and looked at Duncan curiously: "Are you okay? You look a little tired?"

"I just tried a new avatar control method, and I'm not quite used to it," Duncan waved his hand. "It seems that schizophrenia is not something that can be tried casually. Maybe I should ask Heidi for advice when I get a chance... How can she split into dozens of avatars at once without getting confused?"

Agatha: “……?”

However, Duncan did not continue on this topic. He soon frowned slightly and began to recall and organize the information he had just obtained from "afar".

I originally thought it was just an ordinary dream invasion, just a weird nightmare phenomenon, and that the appearance of those cultists was just an accident...but I didn't expect that behind this incident, a shadow beyond everyone's imagination suddenly appeared.

"The Dream of the Nameless..." Duncan raised his head in thought, looking at Agatha in the mirror and the goat head on the table, "Have you heard of this term?"