Morton was slightly taken aback, clearly not expecting Phil Gray to make such a request.
His right hand?
He simply couldn't understand why the Holy Son of the Cult of Dawn would need his right hand.
His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.
"Won't you reconsider?" he said after a moment's thought. "I don't mind. Once I die, this body is just an object, and you can do whatever you want with it."
Phil Gray confessed, "I don't want to hide it, but I actually have a special way to use your right hand to enhance my strength, which is why I made this request. Now that war has broken out on the continent of Ver, and the gods of the Blood Calamity, Disease Worship, and Plague Control cults have descended, I need a certain amount of power to protect myself and my cult. Moreover, if I become stronger, I can better help the Cult of the Night, can't I?"
“In that case, I agree. After my death, apart from returning the sacred artifacts that formed to the Dark Night Cult, you can do whatever you want with my body.” Morton’s eyes revealed a hint of approval. This kind of courageous, responsible, and straightforward young man was the one he admired most.
He had no intention of investigating how the Holy Son of Dawn used his right hand to enhance his strength; that was his secret. He only needed to fulfill their agreement.
"Thank you," Phil Gray said gratefully, a hint of anticipation in his voice. This was a divine being, after all! He couldn't even imagine how powerful the glove made from this person's right hand would be!
But how could he be eyeing someone's right hand now? Wasn't that wishing for someone's death? A pang of guilt flashed through his mind, and he felt too embarrassed to look Morton in the eye again.
However, the other party clearly didn't care.
"Unfortunately, I can't help you anymore..." Morton sighed, looking at the sun setting below the sea and the increasingly dark sky, and said regretfully.
He could no longer intervene in either the war between churches or the conspiracy of those gods.
He only hoped that in his next life, he could become a follower of the night again and return to the Kingdom of the Night Gods, even if it was broken and the gods were gone, he would still believe in darkness as he did at the beginning.
Phil Gray watched as Morton swayed slightly, but struggled to his feet and saw him stretch out his arms as if to embrace the impending darkness.
"Bye now!"
Morton took one last, wistful look at the island he had guarded for three hundred years, and softly said goodbye.
Dark power surged from his body, transforming into shimmering starlight, and his body crashed heavily to the ground.
Phil Gray stood to the side, his heart filled with complex emotions. Witnessing the passing of a powerful figure was truly heartbreaking. He bowed deeply.
Looking up again, a black box appeared in the starlight, about the size of a human head, engraved with patterns of stars and the moon.
This should be the relic formed after Morton's death.
Although it is not as powerful as the relics formed after the death of a quasi-god or those formed after contact with a god, it must still be very powerful to be called a relic.
He stepped forward and picked up the box. The moment he touched it, he sensed its function. This box was called the Hidden Black Box. Anything placed inside could be ignored by everyone, and it would block the perception of all divine power and skills. Unless a god himself came, even if it was right in front of you, you would not think that what you were looking for was in the box.
Moreover, the box is not as small as it appears on the outside; it is about four cubic meters in size. If it weren't for the fact that it cannot hold living creatures, it would definitely be the best hiding place!
Phil Gray exclaimed in admiration, then put the box back into his Death Stone space.
After the matter with the Church of Fate is settled, then we can return the sacred artifact to the Church of Darkness.
Morton had closed his eyes, his wrinkled face peaceful and serene. In the final moments of his life, he had resolved the island's problems and found a good ally for the Dark Cult. He had no more worries.
"Senior, I'm sorry!" Phil Gray apologized many times in his mind, then used his silver dagger to cut off Morton's right hand. Taking advantage of the fact that the others were not nearby, he used the "Death Right Hand" skill.
Because of the Death Stone replenishing his divine power, he was able to afford this enormous consumption of divine power.
Transforming the right hand of a divine being of divine rank is far too taxing on divine power!
Even with the Death Stone continuously channeling divine power into his body, his face remained deathly pale, and cold sweat dripped from his forehead.
Finally, after an unknown amount of time, his bloodied right hand turned into a black glove.
The gloves were as smooth as silk satin, exuding an air of mystery.
Phil Gray put the gloves on and was instantly overjoyed.
He even felt that the glove was more useful than the relics that appeared after Morton's death!
The function of this glove is to allow him to hide in the shadows. As long as he wears it, he can move and hide in the shadows of other people or things. Those below the level of a god will not be able to detect him at all. It is a perfect tool for murder, arson, theft and stealth.
The only limitation is that it can only be used for half an hour a day. If you use it for more than half an hour, you are likely to get lost in the shadows.
"Great, from now on I'll call you Shadow Grip."
Phil Gray's eyes lit up, and he happily hummed a little tune, thinking that he had quite a talent for naming things, coming up with such a cool name.
This trip to the island was very fruitful, and he is now more confident about returning to the Church of Destiny.
“Thank you for your gift. I will help you find a good burial site. No, I must also send your body back to the Cult of the Night.” Phil Gray carefully put Morton’s body into the Death Stone space as well.
Looking at the sky, he realized it was getting darker, and his stomach started growling. He wondered if Eli and Ernest had left him any food.
To store the corpse, he emptied all the food from the Death Stone, daring not to put it together.
He walked toward the temple.
The footsteps faded into the distance until Phil Gray's figure disappeared completely, at which point a pair of eyes that had been watching for a long time slowly looked away.
The tall, dark figure also walked towards the temple under the moonlight.
...
A golden-red sun rose over the shimmering sea, turning the surrounding clouds red. As the sun rose, the island erupted in enthusiastic cheers.
The islanders, who had been worried all night, were finally relieved.
Despite the explanations from the people of Dawn, they were still worried about losing the light again. Now, seeing their island rising and setting as before the thousand years of darkness, all the islanders felt immense happiness.
"Set off!"
Martin, controlling the car driven by the Holy Son, shouted loudly, a hint of joy appearing on his usually expressionless face.
The Pegasus horses stretched out their wings and flew into the sky.
They flew in the sky during the day and rested on small islands in the sea at night. Fortunately, they never encountered such strange islands again.
After two days of urgent travel, they finally saw the outline of the Western Continent.
Many ports along the coastline are bustling and vibrant, resembling a lively and dynamic painting when viewed from the air. Phil Gray lifted the curtain of the carriage, gazing down into the distance, his heart filled with anticipation and longing for the future.
Although they were eager to continue to their destination, it was already dark, and they had to rest for the night at the harbor by the sea.
Their destination was a large port controlled by the Commercial Church, where their familiar merchant ship, the Gold Coin, was docked, and there were many people coming and going.
Dawn was highly respected in the Western Continent, and their conspicuous group naturally attracted everyone's attention. A leader from the Commercial Church came to entertain them and arranged a comfortable hotel for them.
Putting everything else aside, the services provided by the commercial church are absolutely top-notch.
They enjoyed a lavish meal and were invited to a top-notch massage and foot care service, which the gentlemen of the Kingdom of Puna have been reportedly enjoying lately.
However, they politely declined, saying they needed to rest as they had more important tasks to complete the next day.
"Boss, here you go, the latest Life Report, it contains news about the Church of Destiny."
Phil Gray was about to return to his room when Eli handed him a newspaper from the Church of Life.
Back on the Western Continent, Eli resumed his old habit of reading newspapers, casually picking up the latest Life Report, even though he was now a Death's Chosen.
Phil Gray took the newspaper, his eyes quickly scanning the striking headline: "Shocking News from the Church of Destiny! Former Pope Mysteriously Disappears, Cardinal Wendell Holmes to be Officially Appointed at Tomorrow's Descent of God Ceremony, the New Pope to be Revealed!"
He looked up at Eli's ambiguous smile and returned the smile.
It seems we arrived at just the right time!
As soon as dawn broke, the Dawn team flew towards the city of Nors, the city of the Church of Destiny. If all went well, they should arrive in half a day.
Phil Gray looked at the increasingly familiar scenery and silently called out in his heart:
"Cult of Destiny, I'm back!"
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