Chapter 981 — Night at Winterwolf Fortress
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
Spider silk?
A flicker of astonishment crossed Malme Dunnet's face, and in the next instant it curdled into terror.
The spider silk melted into his spirit-body in the blink of an eye, then, as though sprouting and spreading from within him, endless threads surfaced from his skin and began to wrap and coil around his whole body. The former Pope, now reduced to a spirit, let out a roar of mingled shock and fury, and at once tried to summon the power of his god to free himself—yet his desperate effort met no answer. Something had severed the link between him and his deity!
This was the fact that terrified Malme Dunnet most, far more than those bizarre runes Philip had displayed or the uncanny threads now sprouting—how could anything block his connection to his god? How could anything intercept the power of the supreme God of War?! At this very moment the bond between him and his deity was firmer than it had ever been—how could it be severed so effortlessly?!
In his shock and rage he roared out in a hoarse, muddled voice: "What have you done?! My bond with the Lord is the closest there is—how could it—"
His roar cut off halfway. The threads invading his spirit-body had taken full command of his ability to move, and the figure of a white-haired girl surfaced in his gradually freezing field of vision.
The white-haired girl came to a stop before Malme Dunnet, her expression very serious: "Because you're closer to me now."
Unfortunately, Malme Dunnet could no longer hear that answer.
Only then did Philip truly breathe easy. Soothing his pounding heart, he let out a long exhale, then looked around at the soldiers and civilian staff who were anxiously watching the situation, ready to act at any moment—everyone had produced the "mental protection device" they carried, and the nearest senior staff officer already had his hand on the alarm button. Seeing this response, the young Imperial general nodded slightly in relief: "Crisis over. Everyone, back to your posts."
Only then did he turn to Naritel standing to one side, and to Malme Dunnet, sealed layer upon layer in spider silk into a grotesque "cocoon." He could not help saying: "So this is the 'envoy' a god sends out to spread corruption when it verges on madness? I never thought we'd catch one so easily..."
Naritel shook her head at once: "It was easy because it's only an avatar."
"Only an avatar?" Philip's eyes went wide.
"Mm," Naritel nodded. "The soul is hollow—the personality and thoughts are fake. Most of its actions were probably being controlled remotely by some hidden original body... or perhaps many such avatars must gather together to form one original. Either way, the link between this avatar and its 'original' has now been cut, and I can't trace it—that's outside my web. Spider silk can't spread far beyond the neural network."
Philip could not hide his disappointment, and asked: "...Then is this hollow-shell avatar of any use to us?"
"It's still somewhat useful," Naritel thought for a moment, then answered with great seriousness. "When we get back, I'll have Duvalt and Megor help me take it apart. There may be some residual memories inside."
"Then I'll leave it to you."
Philip said with a nod, then his gaze was drawn back to Malme Dunnet. As his eyes swept over the obvious, familiar sacred symbols on the man's clothes, his expression grew complicated. The young Imperial general opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end all his words dissolved into a silent sigh.
He too had once believed in the God of War—and even now, he could not say for certain whether he had truly abandoned that faith.