Exorcist's Self-Cultivation-Chapter 622 - 619 Alex

Chapter 622: 619, Alex! Chapter 622: 619, Alex! When night fell.

Starlight and moonlight shone upon the earth, and Five Keys Town welcomed the deep of night.

For the prisoners here.

The end of their lives had arrived.

No one was innocent.

They were escorted by the guards, everything, all taken to the deepest depths of the prison.

At the edge of that deep ditch, the guards marched them along.

...

In Du Wei’s eyes, there was no longer any warmth, no mercy, no reluctance, only a discomforting cold-bloodedness and iciness.

Pity for one’s own kind is a human instinct.

So is hatred for one’s own kind.

He was waiting for Carlos, waiting for the final moment to arrive.

After a while.

Heavy footsteps began to sound.

The middle-aged man, loyal to Du Wei, Count Carlos, carrying a wooden door on his back, moved slowly towards them with leaden steps.

“Master, the door has been crafted,” he said.

“Carlos never disappoints you.”

Carlos’s voice was very steady.

Du Wei turned his head and saw that the wooden door was bound by chains, wrapped around Carlos.

The entire wooden door emitted a certain Strangeness.

It was identical in design to the Hell’s Gate on the other side of the trench.

No…

It shouldn’t be said to be identical.

It should be said that it was a replica of the other door, but all its patterns were opposite, like a mirror reflecting the two doors.

This was an imitation, and an inverse one at that.

Du Wei commanded indifferently, “Begin executing the plan.”

Carlos, head bowed, yelled in a complex tone, “At your command! My great master!”

With that.

He backed with that imitation door and leaped, diving into the deep trench below.

Gravity made his legs sink into the mud.

Yet Carlos seemed not to care, walking resolutely towards the other end of the trench, step by step.

In the process, the opposing door began to emit a chilling breath.

Hell’s Gate trembled.

As if it possessed its own consciousness.

Everyone, including Du Wei, heard an extremely shrill wail.

It was a human voice.

Men and women, old and young.

Du Wei discerned reluctance, resentment, anger, and pain—various negative emotions—from the voices.

And from Hell’s Gate, a black fog also spilled forth.

The fog seemed alive, appearing and spreading from the bottom of the trench, growing thicker and reaching toward the other end with clawing tendrils.

Carlos carried the replicated door.

With every step he took now, he bore a terrible pressure.

But luckily, Carlos was no ordinary man; he was a hunter, extremely powerful—indeed, much stronger than Minette at her peak.

Carlos clenched his teeth.

Blood spilled from his mouth; it took nearly all his strength to finally reach the other side of the pit.

Boom…

The replica of Hell’s Gate crashed to the ground.

Mud splattered everywhere.

An indescribable terror, so oppressive that even the air seemed to stagnate, filled every inch of space with its uncanny presence.

The wailing became even more piercing.

The prisoners were breaking down.

They were pleading, apparently sensing what was to come, using every means to leave this godforsaken place.

But…

No one showed them mercy.

And Du Wei’s focus wasn’t on the prisoners at all.

He kept observing everything happening around him.

When Carlos placed the other door at the other end of the trench, the two doors truly stood opposed to each other.

Most importantly.

The black fog spreading within the ditch suddenly paused.

It only occupied half.

Carlos climbed up from the deep trench.

He respectfully said to Du Wei, “Master, the sacrifice can begin.”

Du Wei nodded without saying a word.

His gaze was fixed only on the area below.

Carlos’s eyes held a complex expression, wanting to say something, but the constant wailing and pleading of the prisoners beside him made his face turn grim.

“You prisoners, shut up,” he bellowed.

“No one will show you mercy, for your crimes are heinous. Each one of you is guilty of a capital offense and only fit to serve as sacrifices.”

Having said that, Carlos waved his hand and ordered the guards, “Begin the blood sacrifice.”

The guards’ eyes gleamed fiercely.

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As they wielded their knives, they plunged them into the chests of the mortals. Pulling out the knives, they then pushed the convicts into the trench.

It was like dropping dumplings into a pot.

One after another, the prisoners were pushed in, one following the other.

It was extremely cruel.

As the prisoners fell into the trench and were covered by the mist, whether it was an illusion or not, the fog seemed to faintly form the outlines of human faces.

Fierce and terrifying.

The mist seemed stimulated and the halt in its spread continued on.

When the black fog completely filled the trench,

a bridge of black mist formed between the two doors, connecting them.

A humming sound arose,

and the ground beneath their feet trembled.

The black fog surged like waves in the ocean.

Carlos said, “The connection between the two doors has been established. The door you had me create has become indistinguishable from the real Hell’s Gate.”

Du Wei looked at him and said, “But you can tell the difference.”

Carlos replied, “Yes, Master. You only had me create it, intending to use it to summon the Lock Ghost and what you desire, but you never said what should be done with me.”

“I believe that is the leeway you’ve given me.”

“You can always trust in my loyalty to you.”

It was clear that Carlos had long known his fate.

But Du Wei said coldly, “I don’t care about that, go do what you must.”

Carlos’s tone was complex as he said, “I’ve heard those words from you countless times. Each time, you respond the same way, but I still ask.”

This meant that he had experienced the same events countless times already.

Just like a cycle.

Yet Du Wei was not surprised. He asked directly, “What do you ask me?”

Carlos inquired, “Will I see you again next time?”

Du Wei did not answer but instead said, “This place is caught in a constant loop.”

Carlos agreed, “Yes, each time the door is completed, I recall the countless cycles before. I’ve tried to struggle, but I’m still deeply trapped.”

“Every time I tell you this, it can’t change the final outcome.”

“So I’ve become numb, yet loyalty compels me to speak these words. I do not know if they can be of any help to you, for my power is utterly useless to you.”

“No one can help you.”

“You also won’t answer my question, as it seems meaningless.”

Upon hearing this,

Du Wei fell silent for a while, then placing his hand on Carlos’s shoulder, said, “I’ve given up many important things because I can only keep running forward, never able to stop.”

“Your loyalty is void to me, I do not care for it.”

“You should understand what I mean, I am not the master you think I am.”

Carlos did not speak.

He glanced at the guards, who lost themselves one by one and, holding the knife to their hearts, leaped into the trench.

Carlos was a loyal subordinate, but he was not a good man.

Then, he jumped in after them.

The black fog enveloped him, obscuring even Du Wei’s view of what lay below.

And within that fog, Carlos bent at the waist, placing his right hand across his chest in a nobleman’s salute.

“I offer my loyalty to you.”

In the blink of an eye,

The black fog trembled, turning into a blood red in an instant.

Blood gushed continuously, quickly turning the entire trench into a bloodpool.

The contours of the two gates of hell were visible at the bottom of the bloodpool.

Gurgle, gurgle…

From the blood emerged a boat, gradually rising to the surface.

Du Wei saw Avery standing at the prow, with Lock Ghost following behind.

Alex, with silvery hair, extended a hand towards him, the back of which bore a rotating pointer pattern on the right hand.