Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 362 Dawn Church 3

Stone steps winding down into the earth beneath the dim light, each step covered in a thick layer of dust, as if centuries old. Yet, beneath the dust lay the sparse yet distinct marks of footprints—some deep imprints left by boots, others by bare feet, and even a few long tracks from heavy objects being dragged. These traces silently testified to the frequent passage of foot traffic here.

The fat dog happily bounded down the stone steps, its corpulent body looking particularly comical as it bounced on the steps. But its eyes, glowing with an eerie red light, were chilling, as if the flames of hell were dancing in its pupils. As they continued to descend, the air in the passage grew increasingly scorching, and the surrounding stone walls began to glow an unnatural dark red, as if the entire passage was slowly being roasted by some kind of intense heat. Caesars felt sweat dripping down his back, and he quickly pulled the ice disk from his backpack. The moment the disk activated, a cool chill immediately spread, forming a small, comfortable zone around him, freeing him from the need to waste mana on protective spells.

The stone steps twisted and turned in the darkness, seemingly endless. Caesars silently calculated the depth of his descent; he had already descended at least thirty meters underground. At such a depth, even the most acute magical perception would be completely obstructed by the thick earth. As he pondered this, a glimmer of light suddenly appeared ahead, and the long staircase finally reached its end.

Suddenly, the view opened up, revealing a vast circular stone hall. Approximately thirty meters in diameter, several magical lanterns shone from the towering dome, emitting a faint green glow, shrouding the entire space in an eerie atmosphere. In the center of the hall stood a three-tiered altar, each strewn with gruesome objects. The top tier was piled with gleaming fire crystals and magic crystals, interspersed with a few unknown, ominous minerals. The middle tier lay scattered with the bloodied corpses of several magical beasts, their fur still stained with fresh blood. At the bottom tier lay the corpses of several humans, their expressions frozen in a state of final terror.

The altar's surface was covered in complex and eerie red patterns. These patterns twisted and swirled, as if alive, wriggling within the stone. Caesars frowned as he examined them carefully, only to find that these patterns were completely beyond his comprehension. They resembled neither ancient magical writing nor any known magical system. An inexplicable chill rose from his heart—this altar, and this underground space, were clearly conducting some hidden, dark ritual.

To one side of the altar, five or six figures draped in black cloaks prostrated themselves on the ground, their hoods drawn low, almost touching the cold stone bricks. An obscure language emanated from their mouths, sometimes low like whispers, sometimes high like roars, weaving into an eerie rhythm within the stone hall. Caesars could sense an ancient rhythm embedded in these syllables, but he could not grasp their meaning.

The fat little dog's fluffy fur puffed slightly as it retreated silently, its fleshy paws making no sound on the stone bricks. As its figure faded completely into darkness, its round eyes gleamed with excitement. It raised its front paws and made a distinct downward motion, signaling Caesars not only to retreat but also to restrain all magical fluctuations—any exploration could affect the magic circle on the altar.

The chanting within the stone hall suddenly escalated. The black-robed figures raised their heads, their necks bulging with veins. Their voices grew hoarse and frantic, as if they were screaming for their lives. As the sound grew, the magic patterns engraved on the altar began to glow with an eerie red light. At first, it was a faint flicker, but soon it became a constant blood-red glow. The entire stone hall trembled, and the air was filled with a suffocating surge of magical energy.

The magic crystals stacked on the altar were dimming at a visible rate, their once crystal-clear surfaces now covered in spiderweb-like cracks. The hue of the magic patterns deepened, eventually turning a scorching crimson, like magma gushing from the earth and flowing across the stone surface. The fat dog's body trembled uncontrollably, its short tail swishing rapidly from side to side. Its dark red fur gradually took on a metallic sheen, and the red glow in its eyes burned like two dancing flames, its entire body in a state of intense arousal.

Suddenly, the space above the altar twisted and ripped, and an oval-shaped red portal appeared out of thin air. Unstable energy sparks danced around its edge, about three meters high. Within the portal lay a bottomless dark red vortex. A faint roar emanated from the depths of the vortex, sometimes like the roar of an ancient beast, sometimes like the wailing of countless dead souls. The sound was erratic, as if it came from a distant otherworld.

"You damn dog, you want to eat something from the portal?"

Caesars narrowed his eyes, staring at the chubby, fat dog before him. Its fluffy fur was still dusty, and its short, thick tail gently slapped the ground. Hearing the question, the fat dog nodded vigorously, its bulging belly swaying slightly with the movement.

It suddenly stood up on its hind legs and gestured with its pitifully short claws, signaling Caesars to leave quickly. Its scarlet eyes flashed with rare seriousness, and even its ears, which usually drooped, stood upright.

"How dangerous is it?" Kaesas crouched down, his fingers unconsciously stroking the magic blade at his waist. He could feel the energy fluctuations emanating from the portal gradually increasing, and a pungent sulfur-like smell filled the air.

The fat dog opened its mouth, but only a few muffled whimpers came out. It slapped the ground with its paws in frustration, clearly frustrated by its language barrier. Suddenly, as if remembering something, it nudged Caesar's hand with its nose, then made an exaggerated swallowing motion and rolled its eyes as if it was choking.

"It also comes from the Abyss Plane?" Caesar frowned thoughtfully. "It's a bit dangerous, isn't it... Wait, use the photo crystal to record its appearance!"

The fat dog nodded frantically upon hearing this, its short front paws tracing arcs in the air as it purred. Although its words were fragmented, Caesars still understood the gist of it—behind this seemingly ordinary portal lay the unknown secrets of the Church of Dawn.

But what concerned Kaisas most was that the portal that emerged from the altar wasn't a dimensional portal at all. The flowing magical runes and the steady spatial fluctuations were clearly just an ordinary short-range portal. This realization sent a chill down his spine. If Fatty Dog's story was true, then the place this portal led to was likely far more dangerous than he had imagined.

The fat dog pulled a shimmering photo stone from his storage ring. He then extended his long, scarlet tongue and carefully licked the stone's surface, leaving it moist. His magical saliva formed a protective layer on the stone, protecting it from even the fiercest flames.

At that moment, the deep roars that had been emanating from the portal suddenly ceased, and the entire stone hall fell into an eerie silence. The fat dog twitched its ears and, with its stubby limbs, stalked toward the center of the stone hall, its paw prints growing larger with every step. Standing behind, Caesars narrowed his eyes, noticing the fat dog's unusually cautious demeanor and immediately understanding the reason: if the fat dog could sense his presence, then the lava dog must also be aware of the lava dog.

As the fat dog advanced, its body began to undergo astonishing changes. Its formerly chubby frame swelled as if inflated, muscles knotting beneath its loose skin. In the blink of an eye, it grew from the size of a small dog to the size of a warhorse. Even more alarming, the dark red magic patterns on its body seemed to come alive, flowing and shimmering beneath its fur like magma flowing through the cracks of volcanic rock, emitting a suffocating, high-level magical pressure.

A sudden burst of white flames erupted from the fat dog's body, its scorching heat distorting the air. With each step, it left charred claw marks on the altar's obsidian floor. Just as its front paws touched the rune array atop the altar, it suddenly twisted its neck, its crimson eyes fixed intently on the nearest black-robed figure, and a roar erupted from its throat, powerful enough to shatter the crystal chandelier.

The five black-robed figures convulsed violently as if gripped by invisible claws, black slime seeping from beneath their gold-rimmed hoods. As they fell to their knees, the sound of bones cracking echoed beneath their robes. The fat dog, its flaming tail lashing out, snorted a sulfurous snort as it leaped into the swirling portal.

The image stone flipped between Caesar's fingers, emitting a faint blue glow. He crouched down, stepping over the still-warm corpse. As he peeled off the first black robe, a scarlet lining embroidered with a sun emblem was revealed—the very "Holy Flame Vestments," worn only by high-ranking bishops of the church. He deftly peeled off the five intact robes. These treasures, woven from the tail feathers of the Flamebird, could fetch tens of thousands of gold coins in Fire Maple City.

From within the portal emanated roars and low growls, followed by the sounds of a ferocious struggle. Finally, a teeth-grinding tearing sound emerged, and the wailing of some creature shook the altar to dust. In the flickering red light, the faint outline of the fat dog, swelled to three times its size, was visible, locked in combat with the multi-headed monster.

Caesars thrust his dagger precisely into the bishops' throats, still taut with blood. The soul gems hovered above the pile of corpses, humming. The scattered white light was absorbed by the gems. This purified energy was as cool as morning dew, a stark contrast to the turbid texture of ordinary souls. It was pure, without a trace of impurities, without a trace of soul memory. This soul energy needed no refinement; it could be absorbed directly.

The gem's interior only shone with a hazy, moon-white glow, still more than halfway to filling the Soul Gem. Caesars waited quietly in the stone hall, unable to touch the objects on the altar, as the portal required these materials to maintain its function.

Caesars held his breath, his fingers trembling as he gripped the image stone. A faint blue glow shone from the cold stone, silently recording the horrifying scene before him. Dark red blood from the altar snaked through the cracks in the stone. Twisted demonic runes were carved into the once sacred relief, a horrifying sight of desecration. His stomach twisted—the Church of Saint Laurent, an organization once known for light and justice, had fallen to this point.

The air was thick with the acrid odor of decay and sulfur. Torn fragments of holy texts lay scattered around the altar, replaced by parchment scrolls depicting sinister arrays. Caesars slowly moved the recording stone, ensuring every detail was clearly captured—the inverted holy symbol, the desecrated artifact, and those... traces of sacrifice. His throat tightened as he suppressed the rage that surged. They had not only forsaken their faith, but had also succumbed to the abyss, willingly becoming minions of the devil.

The blue light of the image stone flickered faintly, as if trembling with the betrayal. Caesars gritted his teeth, freezing the final image at the center of the altar—where a deity should have been enshrined, a hideous demonic statue now sat, its hollow eye sockets gazing back at him in mockery. The evidence was irrefutable. The Church of Saint Laurent had fallen completely into darkness.

The sounds of fierce fighting within the portal abruptly ceased, replaced by the fat dog's deep growl, echoing like thunder in the narrow space. Caesars shuddered, his entire body warily gazing toward the flickering portal. Just then, a hideous head suddenly tumbled out, leaving a glaring trail of blood on the hard ground before finally coming to rest at his feet.

The two spiral, dark red horns on the skull were stained with sticky blood, and strands of torn flesh clung to the twisted lines. Though roughly human-sized, its wrinkled reddish-brown skin and jagged white fangs betrayed its origins from some horrific dimension. Most horrifyingly, dark red blood still oozed from the skull's broken neck, staining the surrounding ground with a foul slurry.

With the sound of bones scraping against each other, a massive, fat dog struggled to squeeze out of the portal. Its massive limbs were covered in deep wounds that revealed the bone, but strangely, there was no trace of blood between the lacerated flesh. Only a pale flame burned quietly, licking the edges of the wounds like a living creature. The flames flickered with subtle crackling sounds, casting flickering shadows in the dim light.

The fat dog was now the size of a full-grown bison, its body covered in bulging muscles that shone glossily under the light, every line radiating explosive power. Veins bulged from its thick neck, and the movement of its muscles could be clearly seen beneath its thick fur. Its four pillar-like legs caused the ground to tremble slightly with every step it took.

"You're injured, damn dog!"

Caesars keenly noticed that its body was covered with wounds so deep that the bones could be seen, and dark red blood had coagulated under the skin.

The fat dog simply exhaled a puff of hot air from its nose and hummed nonchalantly. Its scarlet eyes were filled with laziness; a good night's sleep would heal any wound of this magnitude. As it trudged down from the altar, its massive body began to shrink at a visible speed, like a deflated balloon, gradually returning to the size of a boot. This was its only way to temporarily suppress the pale flames within it, as it couldn't yet freely control that terrifying power.

Caesars sighed and pulled the marinated meat he had prepared long ago from his interspatial ring. The meat, neatly sliced ​​into thick slices, exuded an alluring aroma. The fat dog immediately pricked up its ears at the aroma, whimpering eagerly, burying its head in the food, gobbling it up like it had been starving for days, even its tail swaying from side to side to the rhythm of its feeding.