Devouring World Dragon

Chapter 21 (Twenty-One)

……

The nineteenth moon rises.

A dozen or so strangely shaped, roaring, and powerful monsters—birds, beasts, insects—were bound by their four, six, eight, or various other limbs and thrown beside the altar.

These monsters were all notorious beasts in the area, and they had generally kept to themselves. However, at the request of the prophet, several clan leaders led a group of Norsemen and managed to capture all of these beasts within a week to serve as sacrifices.

The filthy blood flowed everywhere, and the prophet murmured prayers, but there was still no response...

The sacrifice failed again.

……

The twenty-third moon rises.

"what!"

With his battle axe in hand, the burly warrior crouched down, warily watching the large black bear before him, guarding against a sudden attack.

On the other side, a hungry black bear was drooling and ready to pounce at any moment, but it was only in a standoff because it was somewhat wary of the weapons in the hands of the opposing warrior.

Around the man and the bear, a group of Northrends formed a huge circle, excitedly anticipating the impending bloodshed.

Without a doubt, this was a beast fight.

As the warriors clashed with the bears, the surrounding Norsemen would erupt in excited cheers, and no one cared who the last survivor was.

The prophetess, standing before the altar, watched this life-or-death struggle, offered to please those powerful beings, still trying to sense that call from the unseen realm.

……

The twenty-seventh moon rose.

The sacrificial ceremony was never successful.

The anxious Norsemen finally decided to stop being so timid and go all out...

The corpses of hundreds of slaves were piled up like mountains, and their severed heads were offered on the altar, forming a terrifying tower of heads. Their eyes, filled with despair before death, and their distorted faces seemed to be cursing the world.

……

The thirty-eighth moon rose.

……

The forty-seventh moon rose.

……

Inside the house, the fire burned quietly.

The prophet sat calmly by the fire, while several clan leaders stood before her, appearing quite anxious.

After months without sun, their respective clans began to face large-scale crises. Food, wild animals, disease, mosquitoes, and... the cold.

The snowfall has begun, but no one can say for sure when it will stop.

Every day, people fall ill and die. To escape the crisis, the successful sacrifice has become their last straw. That's why, no matter how great the losses, they can only grit their teeth and persevere.

However, they dared not openly question the prophet's authority, but could only subtly express their anxiety.

Unlike the anxiety of the clan leaders, the prophet displayed a calm and confident demeanor.

"I saw……"

Facing the clan leaders, the prophetess spoke in a low voice.

"What we need to sacrifice is not flesh and blood, nor war, nor torture, but desire."

"The will to survive, the desire for pain, the desire for despair, the desire for anger, the desire to beg, the desire for madness, the desire for war, the desire for love, the desire for greed, the desire for rage, the desire for jealousy, the desire for pride... We have offered sacrifices many times, and each sacrifice has been successful. I have also felt that being's approval of it. However, these are just the prelude to a grand sacrifice. This time, we will offer the last desire to complete the final sacrifice."

……

The 103rd moon rose.

Although she seemed to be failing each time, in the process of trying to communicate with some kind of being, she gradually felt an incomparably powerful and immense will.

That mysterious and magnificent will was so powerful that it terrified the prophet. Even a fleeting glimpse, without seeing its full extent, was enough for the prophet to realize what a magnificent being she was trying to communicate with.

More magnificent than mountains, more vast than the sea, immeasurable and immeasurable.

It was precisely those whispers, like dreams, that made the prophet vaguely understand what kind of sacrifice that being desired.

"A humble mortal offers his final sacrifice to you..."

The prophet closed her eyes and murmured, her tone becoming incredibly humble and earnest, as if she were worshipping a deity.

She didn't say anything superfluous, because after many sacrifices, the prophetess had vaguely realized that this was the final sacrifice.

Success or failure hinges on this one move.

"The devourer of all desires, the tyrant of the endless deep sea, the world-entangler... the great serpent Jormungandr, a lowly mortal offers you all."

The prophetess chanted the name of the great serpent, her murmured voice carried away by the wind and disappeared into the night.

……

The endless deep sea.

The deep sea is unfathomably dark, and nothing can be seen.

In the deathly darkness, the silence was eerie, as if some unimaginably enormous behemoth dwelled there, motionless, simply sleeping peacefully.

Suddenly, a pair of snake eyes snapped open, revealing a chilling and eerie light deep within.

(End of this chapter)