In the end, Annan failed to push open the study door.
Because at the moment when Viscount Dolgoruky uttered these words, a sinister demon hand, made entirely of shadows and with reversed joints, suddenly reached out from the shadow cast in front of his study.
It seemed slow but was actually fast, swiftly reaching out from the ground and grabbing the viscount’s face—this demonic hand forcefully pushed the viscount backward, shoving him away from Annan’s side, and then violently smashed him against the wall on the other side of the corridor!
By chance, on the other side was a stone wall bonded together with cobblestones. The viscount, struck in the back by the smooth stones, almost passed out from the blow. His body involuntarily twitched as the shadow hand pressed him against the wall.
“…You’d better give me a clear explanation on this, Your Excellency Viscount.” As if he had just woken up, a light and low whisper sounded from behind Annan.
Zorgen had completely opened his eyes.
The silver-gray pupils were cold, burning with a blue halo. It seemed to be exuding cold air. The entire corridor was covered with faint traces of frost, and the area close to the ground was as cold as an ice cellar.
“Hehehehe… hahahaha…”
The viscount, with a scar on his face, couldn’t help but let out a laugh despite the situation.
It was a hearty laugh as if he had finally let go of something.
But, he couldn’t laugh for long.
“—Well.”
He was slowly lifted off the wall by the shadow hands and held in the air.
Then, the hands exerted their grip, slapping Viscount Dolgoruky against the wall again.
This time, Zorgen applied a bit more force, causing the viscount to involuntarily cough up a mouthful of fresh blood.
A mouthful of dark red, thick, and turbid blood.
That was the blood that only the dead had.
Zorgen’s expression changed slightly, and he turned to look at Zoya.
“Look at his neck, wrists, and ankles.” Zoya thought for a moment and immediately responded, “And the skin around the heart.”
Soon, from the shadow of each person, a reversed-joint hand of shadow extended— they swarmed up and completely tore to shreds the clothes of the viscount, who was still laughing uncontrollably.
As expected, they found a discontinuous black thread around the viscount’s throat, about six or seven centimeters long, usually concealed by his chin. It resembled the stitching marks of an ellipsis like the crude seams sewn together when joining two pieces of cloth.
On his left chest, the same intermittent thin line was found… It was a black circle the size of an egg tart.
After seeing these traces, Zorgen immediately broke the viscount’s throat without saying a word.
“…These are the traces of being bitten by a [worm].” Zoya explained in a low voice, “He is already dead.”
“What is a worm?” Annan frowned and asked softly.
He was still thinking about the problem of “the gate of worms and cicadas”… “Cicada” refers to the way of sublimation, so what is “worm”?
And now he knew that the [Worm] was the “Beast of Change”. Thus, the “gate of worms and cicadas” meant the gateway before the “path of promotion and change”.
Annan was immediately surprised—the knowledge about “worms” that even he didn’t understand was mastered by Winter’s Hand and these northern nobles who were not even transcenders or ritualists. Judging from Zorgen’s reaction, it seemed this was likely not some sort of secret…
“This is what Lord Ivan should have told you originally, but his Dragon Transformation was too early and too fast.”
After confirming that Viscount Dolgoruky had died once again, Zhuo Ya quickly explained, “This is the Worm Cult, which we had eradicated once before. Unexpectedly, it has bred anew… This truly is like the nature of worms.”
She whispered to Zorgen, “Do you still remember the city layout? I’m afraid there are many more of them in this city.”
Annan asked doubtfully, “The Worm Cult?”
“There is no official name, and it is not a sect. It is just the name Austere-Winter calls them… They call their behavior [following serpents that are not serpents].”
Zoya roughly summed it up, “This is a group of elf fanatics.”
“They believe that the elves who can naturally become Silver Transcenders when they reach adulthood and cannot become a Fallen because they skipped the Bronze Rank are a higher race than the Yaselans.”
“And they believe that the emergence of Fallen is because other races are not as noble as the blood of elves — they believe that other races are ‘the breeds of demons’. The reason for the birth of sin and the breeding of sin is that they are not elves. As long as everyone becomes an elf, there will be no more Fallen and demons being born.”
“This group of people search for and dig Elven Ruins around the world, purchase a large number of antiques from the Elven Age, and imitate the lifestyle of elves. The ultimate goal is to find a way to alter themselves into elves. The fanatics among them even pursue a way to alter everyone into elves.”
As Annan listened, his expression gradually became somewhat peculiar.
It sounded somewhat comical, yet he couldn’t quite pinpoint what made it so.
Annan replied thoughtfully, “In my memory, the elves seem to have migrated from the east, right?”
“I remember there are Fallens there.”
“They don’t care about this. I actually think that it is because the elves are extinct that they can pursue the blood of elves so enthusiastically.”
Zoya shrugged, “Their philosophy is that the world is so evil, and every bad thing is because of ‘race’. If the bloodline of elves, the rule of elves and the customs of elves are restored, there will not be so much tragedy and ugliness in the world.”
…I’m afraid not, brother.
What you are pursuing is not the blood of elves, but curse energy, right?
The Elven Age was prosperous not because their blood was noble, but because of curse energy. It was a versatile resource that could provide anything with a finger snap, which was so convenient.
By activating curse energy, one could bypass the “raw materials” and “process” to directly obtain the needed product. This process was swift and clean. It did not produce any waste; it did not require a large workforce, only designers were required to use it.
It was like turning on creative mode in the game.
At that time, curse shafts were built in almost every town in the entire empire to continuously extract curse energy. Most people could obtain abundant living supplies without labor, so people who sang, wrote poetry, exercised, and invented things emerged in large numbers.
The so-called classical culture that flourished in the elven empire could actually be simply described as “entertainment activities created by people with too much time to spare.”
Under those conditions, of course, there would be no disputes and no crimes. However, the extraction of curse energy quickly caused environmental degradation around the world. This could even be regarded as an ascension mode.
Thus, being obsessed with the elven bloodline was meaningless.
Annan couldn’t help but ask, “Have they seen elves?”
“Of course not. I don’t think they would be so fanatical if they had seen the elves. They were just looking for someone to blame.”
Zoya commented.
She sighed, looked at Annan who was still a little confused, and explained, “Do you know that time when Grand Duke Ivan and his younger brother were kidnapped? That was what the Worm Cult did.”
“They were demanding the release of a political prisoner — a high-ranking member of the Worm Cult.”
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