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The club building had become Dettomorian’s secret hideout after the Temple shut down.
As they entered the underground space, everyone except Ellen was stunned.
“What… What is this?” Ludwig stammered.
“This is insane. Is that… blood?” Heinrich added, his voice tinged with disbelief.
“What… What is all this?” Louise asked, her voice trembling.
The three of them were gripped by fear as they stepped into a room filled with mysterious, magical circles and symbols. No matter how strong or experienced one might be, encountering such a scene for the first time would naturally evoke a deep, inexplicable fear. Even Ellen had been overwhelmed the first time she set eyes on this place.
“Is it really okay for us to be here…?”
Ludwig, who often mistook Dettomorian for a good friend, was pale as he questioned the validity of their presence there.
In many ways, Dettomorian was indeed treated differently. Ludwig had seen civilians killed by guards for praying to strange idols. Yet, seeing the idols and magical circles filling this underground space, even priests who had never harmed anyone in their lives, priests who believed in embracing and converting pagans, might wonder if it was better to just burn Dettomorian at the stake.
Despite the fact that Dettomorian was a student of the Royal Class at the Temple, they could not easily overlook this scene that would brand him as the heretic among heretics. Of course, no priests or inquisitors had done so up to this point mainly because none of them had witnessed this directly. But even civilians ignorant of heresy would surely see this as the work of evil heretics and pagans.
The three newcomers felt uneasy...
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