Chapter 198: Infighting Among the Dead
"It's quite lively in here."
As he spoke, Gideon took out a crucifix and a vial of holy water, remaining alert to his surroundings.
"Y-you… run…"
A broken, intermittent voice came from inside the room.
Gideon and Faya both frowned.
They saw Sister Irene slowly turn her head. Veins bulged across her face, and her left eye was clouded by an inky blackness—clear signs of possession.
The moment Gideon saw her, he recognized her.
She was the protagonist from The Nun, the one who had once stopped the remnants of Valak's power on her own.
But at this point in time, Irene clearly had not yet awakened that strength.
Seeing the scene before her, Faya immediately raised her bone staff, preparing to rush in.
Gideon reached out and stopped her.
"Judging from the earlier fight, these wraiths clearly possess intelligence. There are likely far more of them inside than what we can see."
At the same time, near the doorway—
A massive cabinet trembled, barely holding itself upright. Behind it lurked a wraith, eyes fixed on the entrance, ready to shove the cabinet over at any moment.
Opposite it floated another wraith, its entire form drenched in filthy blood. Thick clots dripped continuously from its mouth.
The blood-soaked wraith wore a feral grin.
Once its companion knocked the humans to the ground, it would pry their mouths open and pour the corrupted blood straight into their stomachs.
That way, they would gain new bodies.
Soon, they sensed something entering through the doorway.
Excitement flared in their eyes.
But then—confusion.
What came in first was a glass bottle. After that… a length of bone.
The bottle was neatly lodged at a joint in the bone.
The blood-soaked wraith stared as the bone extended toward it. Then the bottle tilted, and liquid poured over its body.
Sizzle—
A searing pain that burned straight into the soul erupted.
The wraith let out a heart-rending scream as its form visibly diminished.
Outside the door—
Gideon heard the scream. His eyes lit up, and he calmly guided the bone toward the other side.
"Father Gideon…"
Faya hesitated, her cheeks flushed, but she finally spoke.
"My coccyx… isn't meant to be used for things like this…"
Earlier, under the pretense of "eliminating hidden threats," Gideon had asked to borrow a piece of her bone.
The request had sounded utterly bizarre. No one had ever made such a demand of her before.
But considering the importance of this mission, she had ultimately agreed.
Because Gideon had specified that the bone should be "as long as possible," Faya had extracted part of her spine.
She had assumed it would be used as a weapon.
Who could have imagined that Gideon would pull out a rope and tie a bottle of holy water to the tip of her tailbone?
The realization filled her with an indescribable sense of embarrassment.
She was willing to give everything for the Church—but this kind of "contribution" felt deeply undignified.
"It's fine—don't worry about me," Gideon said, turning his head slightly.
"Only one side left."
Faya fell completely silent.
I wasn't worried about you…
With a heavy crash, something collapsed inside.
Gideon retracted the bone, untied the rope, wiped the end of the coccyx with his sleeve, and handed it back.
"Please, take it."
Faya forced a smile. "Th-thank you…"
Only then did Gideon step into the room.
At the entrance, the two wraiths were reduced to mere remnants of their former selves.
This was intentional.
Earlier, Faya had mentioned that when dealing with resentment-filled wraiths, holy water was not always a permanent solution.
While it could purify the spirit itself, if their remains still existed, the wraiths could eventually reform decades later.
The safest approach was to locate their burial sites and destroy the remains completely.
Gideon sealed the two wraiths into a wooden jar.
This act utterly shattered the wraiths' plans.
Abandoning Irene, the remaining spirits surged toward the doorway.
"Father Gideon, guide me to them—I'll deal with the rest," Faya stepped forward decisively.
"No rush," Gideon said calmly.
"Not a single one of them is getting away."
Faya felt a trace of confusion—right now, it clearly looked like the enemy had the numerical advantage.
Then she watched as Gideon casually took out several holy relics and tossed them onto the floor inside the room.
Holding a cross in one hand, pure holy power surged from his body.
Such refined holy energy…
Faya's heart skipped. The outward fluctuations are minimal—this level of control is extraordinary!
She stared at Gideon in disbelief.
He was clearly young, yet his command over holy power was already highly sophisticated—far surpassing even some veteran exorcism instructors at the seminary.
Inside the room, the undead were now divided into several separate zones, each area containing exactly one spirit.
"That should do it," Gideon said with a satisfied nod.
He activated [Ethereal Sight], fixing his gaze on one of the undead and planting holy power directly into its spiritual form.
The spirit immediately sensed the intrusion.
It drove all of its corrupt energy into resistance—but the effort was laughably futile.
In a single instant, the corruption coating its body was completely assimilated.
"Ahem."
Gideon cleared his throat and pointed toward the zone closest to the newly assimilated undead.
"Out of all of you," he said calmly, "only one undead gets to survive."
Faya instantly understood his intent.
Hearing those words, she couldn't help thinking: That doesn't sound very saintly…
And yet, she couldn't deny her admiration.
To precisely deploy so many small-scale containment arrays in such a short time—Gideon's theological foundations were undeniably deep.
Soon, two undead spirits clashed violently.
With Gideon's subtle guidance behind the scenes, the outcome was never in doubt.
Faya nodded in genuine praise.
"Using formation arrays to isolate them turns a many-against-one situation into a series of one-on-one battles."
"Combined with [Ethereal Sight], it forces them to exhaust each other."
"This is far more refined than charging in head-on."
Before long, only two undead remained.
One of them—the last standing—was the original leader of the spirits.
After crushing the assimilated spirit under Gideon's control, it naturally became his new pawn.
The other spirit had been possessing Sister Irene from the very beginning.
During the earlier one-on-one chaos, it had repeatedly fought Irene for control of her body—but failed every time.
Irene's willpower was far stronger than expected.
Now, seeing its companions eliminated one after another—and the human man approaching—it felt fear for the first time.
"I'll give you two choices," Gideon said, gesturing toward the undead leader.
"Either you get beaten to death by him…"
"Or you crawl into this and stay put."
As he spoke, he opened the lid of the wooden jar.
Faya frowned slightly.
Undead shouldn't be capable of fear… right?
For the first time, she wasn't so sure.
What happened next shattered that assumption.
The moment Gideon finished speaking, the inky blackness in Irene's eyes rapidly receded.
A shadow slid beneath her skin, moving downward until it reached her feet—where the wooden jar waited.
Without the slightest hesitation, the shadow leapt straight inside.
A tendril of darkness extended out, grabbed the lid from the floor, and sealed the jar shut with surprising precision.
Faya's mouth fell open.
Is this really the same undead I know?
Aren't they supposed to be driven by malice, consumed by hatred for the living?
How could they surrender so quickly under threat?
Is this… the true power of [Ethereal Sight]?
She turned to look at Gideon.
Among all the "Eye-Manifestation" clerics she had ever encountered, not one fought like this.
They all relied on forcibly planting holy power into spiritual bodies.
But this wasn't about experience.
Ordinary clerics simply couldn't do what Gideon had done.
Only because he possessed both Eye Manifestation and Soul-Form Manifestation could the undead perceive true existential danger.
After sealing the undead leader into the jar as well, Gideon finally turned his attention to Irene.
"Cough—ugh!"
The young nun had regained consciousness.
She rolled onto her side and vomited violently, expelling a mass of foul blood mixed with gastric fluid.
Gideon handed her a clean white cloth.
Faya retrieved a long robe and draped it over her shoulders.
"…Thank you," Irene said weakly once her breathing steadied. "I feel much better now."
After handing her a bottle of holy water, Gideon finally asked, "What happened here?"
Sadness flickered in Irene's eyes.
"After helping Father Ivan settle the civilians who had lost their souls, I went to the Chapel of Our Lady of Peace."
"But when I returned, the evil spirits had already invaded the church."
"Before he died, Father Ivan told me the surrounding formations had been deliberately destroyed—and the Hand of the Apostle was missing…"
"What?!"
Faya reacted instinctively, her emotions flaring—then she quickly forced herself to calm down.
"Do you know who took the relic?"
Irene lowered her head in shame.
"It might have been Mia. She was one of the participants in the summoning game."
Gideon frowned. "Did she have special abilities? Or was she possessed?"
Irene shook her head. "I checked afterward. Mia wasn't injured."
"So a human girl walked into the church, sabotaged your formations, and stole a critical holy relic…" Gideon's mouth twitched.
Irene nodded, her face flushing.
This security is a joke…
Gideon pressed a hand to his forehead.
As expected of a horror world—there's never a shortage of reckless kids or incompetent teammates.
Suppressing his irritation, he asked, "What about the bodies that lost their souls?"
Irene pointed beneath her.
It looked like a cellar entrance.
"Before the undead could possess them, I took out the church's twenty-year holy relic and used its power to seal the entrance."
Gideon raised an eyebrow.
He examined the metal surface—dense holy power clung to it.
But the relic itself was nowhere in sight.
Combined with the shards of broken glass nearby, the truth became obvious.
He glanced at Irene again.
Destroying a holy relic was a grave sin under any doctrine.
Yet she had cast aside rules in a crisis, choosing results over dogma.
That decisiveness alone set her apart from most clergy.
And the fact that she confessed openly meant she was already prepared to face judgment.
Gideon nodded silently, choosing not to mention the relic.
He stepped up to the cellar door.
"Let's go down and take a look."