Exorcist's Self-Cultivation

Chapter 742: 720, Alfaria has gone crazy

Alfaria’s mentality completely collapsed.

He had never imagined that at his proudest moment, just as he was about to complete the great ritual where thirteen members of the Vanity Sect would unite as one, he would suffer such a catastrophic blow.

Without the mask.

Thirteen people could never become one.

And moreover.

Alfaria couldn’t feel at all where the missing mask might be.

Before, he had always believed that Gascogne’s mask was real.

But now…

“Ahhhhh!”

“Why has it come to this!!”

Alfaria roared with madness, like a trapped beast.

The ritual had completely failed.

For hundreds of years, Alfaria had been a slave to His Excellency the Duke, then he chose to betray him and even witnessed the Duke’s death.

He felt he had finally freed himself from that man’s shadow.

He could start a new life.

Once, he had dreamed of controlling the world, where his every word and action would determine its course.

Now it had all come to nothing.

“I can’t accept this.”

“I still have a chance.”

“There must still be a chance.”

Alfaria strangled Gascogne to death in a fit of rage, wishing he could tear him to pieces.

But as soon as he started,

the body of Gascogne before him turned into an illusion.

“Even he is fake?”

Alfaria’s anger was boundless; he twisted his head to look at the others.

Due to the failure of the ritual, and the loss of that mask, the masks on the faces of the others that had started to detach were showing signs of reattaching.

But.

Apart from Lord Ferren, who sighed in relief,

The others were greatly disappointed.

They were so close.

So close to becoming one, to gaining greater power.

Brand’s emotions were complex.

He was a diehard fan of His Excellency the Duke, but he was also very aware that he had embarked on a path of despair, with no possibility of turning back.

The last time he had bid farewell to Du Wei, he knew that from then on, he and the Duke would stand on opposite sides completely.

But the failure of the ritual left him at a loss.

As if a persistent thought in the depth of his heart had suddenly vanished into thin air.

And at that moment.

Alfaria’s gaze was cold as he looked at the remaining people. The Vanity Sect had a total of thirteen members. Apart from the dead Gascogne and others who died due to the ritual, there were still nine left, excluding himself.

Lord Ferren and the others felt a chill in their hearts under Alfaria’s gaze.

“Alfaria, what do you mean?”

“The ritual has already failed, we need to start the Armored Divinity Ascension.”

“Give it up, unless we find the missing mask, there’s no chance of success.”

Alfaria was silent.

His glance swept over two floating masks beside him; a new body had one hand completely formed, a very pale hand, like a corpse’s.

But the rest of the parts were just outlined in threads.

And there were signs of them fading away.

Alfaria had gone mad.

His eyes bulged.

The next second.

He stood right before Mercer.

Shivering, Mercer asked, “Lord Alfaria, what are you doing?”

Alfaria didn’t speak; he reached out and grabbed the mask from Mercer’s face.

A strange power was at work.

Mercer couldn’t resist at all.

He watched helplessly as Alfaria tore the mask off his face.

“Ah…”

Mercer screamed, his face a blur of flesh and blood; even his facial features had been torn away, leaving only bare bone.

What was strange was

the moment after the mask was torn open, his body began to age at a speed visible to the naked eye, his hair turned white from the ends, fell out, and his skin was full of wrinkles.

His body became hunched, teeth fell out, and when he opened his mouth to speak, he collapsed directly to the ground.

Alfaria didn’t care at all, and with a loosened grip, the mask floated automatically beside him, black threads wound together, and that unfinished shell seemed to be injected with new strength, becoming active once more.

A new torso was forming.

Alfaria said painfully, “My plan has been completely ruined; if that mask were still there, I wouldn’t have to resort to such means to obtain a decaying shell.”

And it wasn’t even intact.

If all thirteen masks were present,

the ritual would have drawn everything from these people, converging into a complete whole.

But with one mask missing, what is now being extracted is only the power of the mask itself, or rather the Demon Spirit within the mask, and the stolen power of the Demon God.

The power of the person who wore the mask, as well as their life and will, cannot be extracted.

The reason Mercer completely aged to death after his mask was removed was that he had lived too long; with the mask on, the problem wasn’t apparent, but losing the mask, he was reverted to his original form.

Monsters like Matthew who could live two hundred years were, after all, an exception in this world.

Then,

Alfaria turned his gaze toward the others.

Everyone felt a chill in their hearts, a profound sense of dread welling up inside them.

…

At this very moment,

on the distant other side,

Matthew had already arrived at the entrance of Duke Bai’s Cult.

This cult that worshiped Du Wei, its former self was the Everlasting Flower.

In the storm,

Matthew pushed open the door with the Black Leather Book in hand.

Upon entering,

he saw a group of people kneeling on the ground, chanting the teachings of Duke Bai’s Cult with fervor, praying towards a three-meter-high statue inside the chapel.

The statue was of Du Wei, wearing a mask.

Furthermore, the envelope and the shadow were carved out as well.

Frobin was the leader of Duke Bai’s Cult.

When he saw Matthew, he furrowed his brow and rebuked, “Who are you? Who let you barge into the Holy Church? Get out.”

The other Cultists also stood up.

Anger was evident on each person’s face.

Duke Bai’s Cult was a small sect; ordinary people couldn’t just join, and they were very united.

Matthew, however, extended his hand.

In the palm of his hand, a pattern of an eye appeared.

At that moment, everyone’s gaze went blank, and they lost consciousness.

Then, the Black Leather Book automatically flew out, landing in the hands of the statue, making it look as though Du Wei himself was holding the book, his gaze coldly surveying the distance.

The next second,

the statue began to shake, and cracks appeared all over it.

Matthew’s expression changed slightly, but he didn’t react otherwise.

Instead, he began to chant, “Praise be to you, Your Excellency the Duke, this world is on the verge of collapse, and your true name has been taken by another.”

“Now, at this moment, you shall descend upon this world again.”

“You will reclaim your true name.”

“Reclaim your body.”

“Take back everything that rightfully belongs to you, and then set this damned world back on its rightful course.”

As he finished chanting,

the entire statue exploded.

In the midst of the mist,

the figure of a man flickered in and out of visibility.

He had a cold, merciless look in his eyes and an aura so terrifying it was like that of a malevolent ghost.

He held the Black Leather Book in his hand.

But he said, “My body has long been in preparation.”

“I can feel it, it’s about to take shape.”