When the plot-skips players into the game world

Chapter 803

Chapter 803: Chapter 183 The Wild Hunt Transformation Ceremony_2 Chapter 803: Chapter 183 The Wild Hunt Transformation Ceremony_2 This is probably why the Giants specially set up the remote “Valley of the Beheaded” as a site for capital punishment.

Essentially, it’s just like burying pollutive waste in an uninhabited place—if this area really becomes haunted, well, they can just stop coming here.

There’s no need to worry about spirits chasing after them; the undead can’t wander far.

“This is a good plan, Merlin.”

Arthur joined in, “We’re counting on you, Sir Helquinn.

In your state as an undead, you possess the great strength to transcend ‘the Wall of Balance’.

If you could transform into The Wild Hunt, that would be very helpful to us in our fight against the ‘Tyrant’.”

—— Huh?

It’s my turn?

...

Aren’t you going to do it?

Aiwass paused for a moment and looked at Arthur.

His expression was cool, still that calm and steady poker face.

Although his tone was as bland as reading lines from a script, apparently his usual character was more or less the same.

The other Knights of the Round Table were completely oblivious to the Arthur within, who was actually another actor—Arthur of the future.

And Arthur blinked at Aiwass, signaling him to be at ease.

——Don’t be afraid, speak the words.

And so Aiwass calmed down.

“...

Using the false me as a sacrifice and medium to reach a ritual agreement with the real Helquinn?”

Aiwass cleared his throat solemnly and said, “If it is to fight against the Supreme Heaven and its Angel Envoys… I would gladly cooperate with your ritual.”

Upon hearing this, Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

If “Sir Helquinn” had a more conservative personality and didn’t agree with this, then Merlin wouldn’t be able to force the transformation of Helquinn into The Wild Hunt.

Maybe it was something he couldn’t achieve...

or perhaps something he was unwilling to do.

As the torrential rain hit the ground, the lightning formed a sphere, enveloping Aiwass within.

In that tempest that obscured all vision, the Dark Clouds on the horizon billowed, vaguely taking shape into a herd of black horses and a pack of hounds.

Faintly, Aiwass heard two cries of hounds.

One was clear and filled with vitality and energy, and the other was deep and dark, with an echo to it.

Each cry closely followed the other.

For Death always accompanies life—just as hunting is for survival, it inevitably brings about Death.

And The Wild Hunt is the opposite: it hunts for Death but brings hope of life to people.

“Those who have died yet whose souls persist shall be stripped from the six realms!

For they are dead yet tread the Dusk Path, for their might they command the Path of Strength, for their existence they master the Path of Adaptation!

“In the name of the Great Sage, I reconstruct the paths of your Wisdom and beauty!

“I grant you the privilege to speak and to sing!

I grant you the privilege of thought and Wisdom!”

“You shall not attack or enter any room with a lit lamp and closed door!

Do not approach any area near a church guarded by a Bishop, do not attack the sick, pregnant women, or the disabled!

You shall not destroy libraries or schools, you shall not harm the brave who sing and play music to you!

“You shall not drink the Alcohol of the living, you shall not consume offerings or burned incense!

“You shall not cease to hunt, you shall not stop fighting!

Like the Storm that never ends, it merely slumbers—”

So that’s how it is.

The dead yet corporeal were stripped from the four realms...

The Wild Hunt ritual was to transform these incorporeal warrior souls into bodies of The Wild Hunt, restoring them from the three paths to the five...

But at this point, Aiwass’ consciousness began to Blur.

Fragmentary memories flowed through his mind—like a series of headless and tailless photos emerging in his heart.

He didn’t fully understand what these fragments meant, but the mere sight of them brought a touch of warmth and nostalgia.