My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 135 A Myriad of Curses Reflected Within Me

The moonlight wove a net, enveloping the entire monastery.

Finally, the beams converged on a flat mirror, and the combined light shot into the sky at a peculiar angle, like a beacon guiding a course.

"Are all the mirrors in place? Are the ghoul corpses in position? And..."

Jules watched as the other believers around him busied themselves.

In the large but orderly crowd, he spotted Father Crescent Moon precisely.

His eyes flickered slightly as he stepped forward.

At this moment, Father Arc Moon was walking alone toward the mirror that lay flat in the very center.

Jules noticed that the other person reached out and gently stroked the frame of his glasses, a hint of worry in his eyes.

He stepped forward and asked casually:
"Father, what is the cause of your worry?"

Father Crescent turned around, and his weathered eyes met Jules's.

"I'm worried we'll fail tonight."

Jules walked over to Father Crescent and together they examined the mirror, then asked:

"Oh? Could it be because of the mirror?"

At this moment, he could see that the shape of the mirror in front of him was quite peculiar.

It's as if they ran out of materials halfway through making it; the frame clearly contains two different mirrors, which were simply forcibly glued together by external force.

"This is... orexin?" After examining it for a while, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

Half of the mirror reflected a bright silver light, clearly made of the "mithril" the priest had mentioned earlier.

However, the other side exhibited characteristics he was familiar with: orogenic copper!
"Your Excellency, this half of the mirror is made of mithril, while the other half seems to be made of a different material?"

Upon hearing this, the priest sighed, his words confirming Jules's conjecture:

"This half of the mirror is made of orogen."

As if afraid that Jules wouldn't know what copper ores were, he further explained:
"This is a legendary metal, on par with mithril, and can replace mithril to some extent."

Jules nodded, then looked at the mirror in front of him.

The mirror-like surface of mithril is as smooth as ice, reflecting a cold and sharp light.

The texture of the orogen is rough, and the light reflected from it is slightly dimmer than that of the mirror-like surface of mithril.

The two beams of light were twisted into one, seemingly perfectly blended, but he always felt a sense of imbalance.

The believers around were still busy, their footsteps and whispers mingling together.

But before this mirror, time seemed to stand still, with only Father Crescent and Jules' gazes fixed upon it.

A gentle breeze blew by, ruffling the priest's robes, but it couldn't dispel the worry between his brows.

Jules finally understood the source of the priest's worries.

As the core of the entire ceremony, the mirror itself was merely a defective product.

Father Arc Moon sighed deeply and shook his head helplessly, saying:

"It should have been a complete mithril mirror, but mithril is scarce, so only a portion of it could be replaced with orchardite, which probably greatly reduces the mirror's power."

As soon as he finished speaking, the originally bright moonlight suddenly dimmed, and the surrounding light became dimmer, casting an eerie shadow over the entire monastery.

Jules pondered for a moment, then decided to probe indirectly:
"If the mirror malfunctions, will the ritual also be disrupted?"

Father Arc Moon spoke in a very calm tone:
"Of course, the ceremony might fail as a result."

"What would happen if we failed?"

"It would simply mean the annihilation of all those who participated in the ritual—but we will not, and cannot, give up because of that."

At this point, Father Arc Moon raised his head and gazed at the full moon in the sky that Jules could not see.

"The curse that binds Blanker must be removed."

His words carried an unwavering determination.

Jules was silent for a moment, then said:
"Does the ceremony have to be held tonight?"

He could tell that the ceremony was somewhat forced into it, but surprisingly, not a single believer questioned why it was being held that night.

"of course."

Father Crescent looked at Jules and said earnestly:
"According to the calendar, tonight will be the night when the Queen in the Mirror is at her most powerful. If we miss tonight, we will have to wait many years for such an opportunity."

He said nothing more, turned and left, leaving Jules alone, gazing thoughtfully at the mirror.

"As expected, this ritual requires the power of the crescent moon, but I wonder what method they plan to use..."

He stared at the mirror, trying to see something in it.

Even from a distance, he could still sense a faint power of enlightenment attached to it.

But no information popped up—perhaps because this place is like a "phantom"?
“I’ve been to this area in real life, and I’ve seen all the other broken mirrors, but I’ve never seen those ghoul corpses or this mirror.”

Jules narrowed his eyes and quietly retreated to the edge of the crowd, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

As time passed, the monastery gradually quieted down, but the atmosphere became increasingly solemn.

Although the believers around them were still busy, their movements revealed tension and unease.

Their eyes kept glancing at the mirror in the middle, as if they were expecting something while also fearing what was about to happen.

Suddenly, a deep bell rang out from the depths of the monastery, echoing softly in the silent night sky.

Jules saw the believers stop what they were doing, line up neatly, and slowly kneel down in front of the mirror.

They clasped their hands together and chanted incantations, their voices initially low but gradually building into a powerful wave that echoed throughout the monastery.

At this moment, Father Arc Moon reappeared.

He stood beside the mirror, holding the silver-plated scripture in his hands, his expression solemn and dignified.

Under the moonlight, his shadow was stretched very long.

After nodding slightly to the crowd, the priest slowly opened the scripture and began to recite an ancient prayer.

As the prayer was chanted, the light in the mirror grew stronger, the light of mithril and orogen intertwining, yet there was a subtle sense of conflict between them.

The two mirrors were originally glued together almost perfectly, but at this moment, the cracks on the surface of the mirrors seemed to be faintly visible in the light.

At that moment, a cold wind blew by, and the temperature in the monastery suddenly dropped. Jules could see his breath instantly turn into white mist.

The surrounding environment grew increasingly gloomy, and the candlelight on the walls flickered precariously, threatening to go out at any moment.

Soon, Father Arc Moon chanted a prayer and stepped forward, standing still on the beam of light shooting into the sky from the mirror.

Light from all directions shone upon him, making him seem almost divine.

Jules keenly noticed that the priest standing on the mirror seemed to be looking in a particular direction.

He followed the priest's gaze and froze when he saw the object in the distance.

A crossbow had been set up there sometime earlier; if fired, it would instantly take the priest's life! But to his surprise, the priest neither dodged nor flinched, but instead, with a compassionate expression, recited his final prayer:
"...Let us invoke the crescent moon, the radiant god, the god of complete revelation, the god of unparalleled beauty. Your mighty power will surely make all curses shine upon us!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the moonlight that had been projecting suddenly dispersed, revealing a series of images—all of them the corpses of those ghouls.

Jules also sensed that an extremely terrifying evil power was being channeled into the priest's body on the mirror through the direction of the light.

Upon seeing this scene, his pupils dilated in shock.

Is this an attempt to emulate the "martyrdom" rituals associated with the Code of Revelation, transferring the entire curse onto one person and then killing them to end the curse?

That crossbow, then, would serve the purpose of a cross, like the "Death of Jesus," nailing the priest to the mirror.

He suddenly understood why Father Arcmoon had been so calm before, revealing a detached indifference to life and death.

However, in retrospect, the curse was not lifted. Even the ghoul graveyard was almost broken from its seal, and all the clergy present were also devoured and turned into wandering ghosts.

In other words, something must have gone wrong, and it didn't succeed...

At this moment, apart from Jules, who knew nothing about it, most of the believers were also busy reciting prayers for Father Crescent Moon.

As the crowd chanted, the mirror and the moonlight projected onto it began to undergo strange changes.

The previously blended moonlight instantly became turbulent, like a raging beast.

The light danced wildly on the mirror's surface, illuminating the surroundings in a stark white light.

The images depicting ghoul corpses were distorted and deformed, clearly dead, yet twisting and struggling as if still alive.

The cracks on the mirror became more and more obvious, making a soft "clicking" sound, as if it would shatter completely at any moment.

A fierce wind howled through the monastery, causing the believers' robes to flutter wildly and their prayers to be torn apart and broken by the wind.

Jules could feel the ghoul's curse expanding within the priest's body at an alarming rate.

At this moment, the originally refined and gentle Father Arcmoon even began to show signs of turning into a ghoul, and his temperament began to become somewhat sinister and eerie.

Nevertheless, the priest's eyes remained resolute as he gritted his teeth and endured the curse being injected into his body.

The images of those ghouls shattered one by one, and with each shattered image, the curse within him grew stronger.

As the image shattered, the believers' tense expressions relaxed somewhat.

But Jules' heart was in his throat.

The priest hadn't reached his limit yet, but the mirror couldn't hold on any longer!
Sure enough, a crisp snapping sound rang out, like a thunderclap in the nighttime monastery.

The priest's face turned deathly pale, so pale that it was hard to tell whether it was due to the curse, the moonlight, or neither.

He knelt down, bit his tongue, and smeared his blood on the cracks in the mirror, trying to mend the damage.

However, all of this was to no avail; the cracks on the mirror became more and more obvious, and the image of the ghoul corpses around them became even more distorted.

Father Arcmoon opened his mouth, his eyes wide with fury:
"Kill me now, immediately..."

As soon as he finished speaking, a sharp arrow, accompanied by the sound of wind cutting through the air, shot straight towards his heart!

However, to everyone's dismay, the arrow, as if it were a fake, pierced straight through the priest's heart and embedded itself in the ground behind him.

Seeing this, Jules narrowed his eyes, a bad feeling creeping over him.

Just now, the arrow felt very real to him, and it had a sharpness that was unique to blades.

So, if the arrow is real, then the fact that Father Arc Moon just passed right through it means that the priest is turning into an illusion!

"Damn it, is something going to happen?" Jules could see the cracks in the mirror were getting bigger and bigger.

He could also tell that something bad was bound to happen once the mirror was broken!
Ignoring everything else, amidst the varied gazes of those around him, he darted forward and said in a deep voice:

What can I do?

The priest knelt on the ground, opened his mouth, but could not utter a word.

But Jules could read his lips.

"kill me."

He closed his eyes, raised his hand, and stabbed the priest in the heart.

With a satisfied smile, the priest slowly collapsed onto the mirror, his blood seeping into it, and his entire body dissipated into starlight.

The moment the priest's body turned into starlight and vanished, the entire monastery seemed to be shaken by an invisible, immense force.

The gale raged even more fiercely, as if it would uproot the ancient building, and the howling wind sounded like the roar of countless wronged souls.

After absorbing the priest's blood, the mirror shone brightly, and wisps of light began to seep out from the cracks that were on the verge of breaking, as if it were undergoing a difficult process of self-repair.

However, due to the significant difference in properties between the two mirrors, the attempt failed.

The moment the repairs came to a complete halt, the entire mirror suddenly trembled violently.

Then, an overwhelming black fog surged out from it!

Jules was the first to be hit, and was immediately disoriented by the black mist.

But he didn't feel too uncomfortable, quickly adjusted himself, and looked around.

What he saw made his heart sink.

The believers, who had been cleansed by the fog, began to exhibit strange changes.

Some of them became like the "wandering spirits" he had seen before, appearing normal but exuding an eerie feeling.

Others, however, have skin that turns pale and emaciated, and grow sharp teeth and claws, resembling ghouls!
After their conversion, the believers immediately became dazed and confused, completely ignoring Jules's presence and walking around on their own.

Seeing that they didn't bother him, Jules' eyes flickered, and he planned to just pick up the mirror next to him and run away.

However, the moment his fingers touched the mirror, a long sigh rang out.

"It still failed..."

Everything before my eyes suddenly shattered.

……

Jules rubbed his sleepy eyes, looking completely bewildered.

Where am I now?

Wasn't I just in the mirror world? Which room in the monastery is this now?

"Mr. Jules, what are you doing here?"

A flash of light appeared, and Ram's figure suddenly appeared, meeting Jules's gaze with a blank stare.

"...I wanted to ask you that too."

Jules was somewhat speechless.