A dark, enclosed space.
Whispers slithered through the stagnant air, weaving between flickering candle flames.
They didn't form words—just a hushed, dissonant hum, like dozens of voices murmuring secrets in a language not meant to be understood.
The sound scraped faintly at the edge of Matthew's mind, like wind dragging nails across glass.
Drip...Drip...
Somewhere in the distance, water echoed from a leaking pipe—or perhaps from something far more ancient.
Ugh.. Hm..? Matthew slowly regained consciousness.
His body ached. His limbs were bound tightly to a cold wooden structure, arms outstretched. A coarse cloth gag had been shoved into his mouth, the taste of dust and blood lingering on his tongue.
What... what's happening? Where am I?
Did I… transmigrate?
His thoughts stumbled over themselves, disoriented and dizzy.
He forced his eyes open.
In the dim light, he saw them—dozens of black-robed figures gathered just meters away, each perfectly still, faces hidden beneath their hoods. They stood in unnatural formation, heads bowed low, chanting something under their breath.
The sound had no rhythm, no structure. It scraped at his thoughts, an unnatural resonance that made his scalp tingle.
This isn't right... This can't be right.
Panic surged in his chest, cold and primal.
What is this… some kind of ritual? A sacrifice?
Then doesn't that mean I'm the—
"The sacrifice… the sacrifice isn't dead yet!"
Someone suddenly exclaimed in a low voice, having noticed Matthew had awakened.
The humming incantation ceased at once.
All the black-robed figures turned to look at him, their faces twisted into eerie, unreadable smiles.
At the same time, countless fragmented memories suddenly surged into Matthew's mind.
Despite his fear, he quickly sorted through them.
The original owner of this body was also named Matthew, eleven years old, and had grown up in an orphanage.
Recently, a series of strange occurrences had begun happening around him—glass disappearing right before his eyes, cups floating in midair, even objects moving with a mere thought...
Most of the chaotic memory fragments were filled with these inexplicable events.
Is this some kind of superpower awakening?
Matthew couldn't immediately figure out which world he had transmigrated into...
"Hold on, child."
A gentle voice suddenly came from beside him.
He turned toward the sound and saw another black-robed figure.
This man was closest to him and, unlike the others, was neither bowing nor chanting.
Instead, he was watching Matthew with eyes full of genuine concern—and a trace of urgency.
The memories came in fits and starts.
In the next flash, Matthew had already left the orphanage and become someone's adopted son.
His foster father was a gentle and refined psychologist, with a face Matthew knew well.
He recognized it because the man with that face was currently looking at him.
He seemed slightly nervous, subtly adjusting the gold-trimmed hem of his exposed black robe while quietly inching closer to Matthew.
He was indeed the original body's foster father—Evans.
There's backup.
The hope flaring in his heart gradually quelled the panic.
Matthew began observing his surroundings.
What first caught his eye was a black-robed figure in the distance.
That person had stopped chanting, and in one swift motion, removed his robe, revealing a grey priestly uniform underneath.
The style of clothing matched exactly with Matthew's mental image of a cultist.
The cultist gripped a black iron dagger in reverse. The blade was engraved with arcane incantations.
Without warning, he suddenly stabbed himself in the chest.
Pucft!
The dagger pierced straight through his heart.
The cultist collapsed, and a red light flared beneath him.
The light enveloped his body, dissolving it silently until nothing remained.
Only a few strange, glowing patterns were left behind on the floor.
Then, one by one, the other cultists removed their black robes, revealing priestly garments of various colors beneath...
Pucft! Pucft! Spulch...
Dull thuds echoed as lives were taken one after another.
Grey, black, white...
The robes consumed by the red light vanished like falling stars.
Judging by the colors and numbers of their robes, those on the outermost edge were low-ranking grey-robed monks—the most numerous.
Closer in were the black-robed priests, still numbering seven or eight.
Finally, two white-robed bishops stood at either side.
To emphasize their status, the hems of their white robes were even trimmed with intricate gold patterns.
It was clear these people were not only cruel and fanatical, but also operated under a strict hierarchy.
As the cultists continued to sacrifice themselves, the glowing patterns on the floor grew in number.
The lines connected, gradually forming more than half of a mysterious magical array.
At that moment, Matthew didn't notice the change. Instead, he was staring at his foster father, who wore a grim expression.
"Why do you look so pale? Just hold on a little longer, they—"
As he spoke, his foster father's expression suddenly relaxed.
The red light had consumed all the cultists, leaving only the two of them behind.
Matthew's gaze dropped to the gold-edged hem of the robe that had been exposed earlier when his foster father adjusted it. His eyes flickered with uncertainty.
His foster father was not backup.
Realizing Matthew had caught on, the man simply tore off his black robe, a wild smile spreading across his face.
Beneath the black robe was the most ornate vestment of all—a luxurious red priest's robe.
A Red Cardinal.
The fragmented memories finally arrived, though too late... Fuck...
It turned out his foster father was the mastermind behind the entire ritual—the leader of this cult.
He had adopted the original body because he saw potential in the child's innate magical talent...
"Good child, shall Father take you to God's kingdom now, hmm?"
His tone was gentle, but his face was twisted with savage glee.
He raised the golden dagger, engraved with incantations, high above his head, aiming it directly at Matthew's chest.
He waited for the array to fully close—then he would drive it downward.
The pattern formed by the interwoven blood-red lines spread rapidly across the floor, weaving into an intricate design.
Meanwhile, Matthew's limbs remained bound, and waves of dizziness from blood loss rendered him completely immobile.
In despair, he realized the red light on the floor had already reached beneath him.
"Abnormal energy absorption in progress..."
"Spatial anchor point located."
"World origin probing in progress..."
"Function modules loading in progress..."
"Congratulations, you have obtained a Mythic Item!"
"Ability datafication complete."
"Energy absorption complete."
"Activating unique exclusive talent: [Odin's Insight]"
"[Odin's Insight]: The system will automatically assist the host in comprehending, and the host can directly obtain the results of comprehension."
...
[System loading complete.]
A series of emotionless mechanical voices echoed in his mind, and a translucent virtual panel appeared before his eyes:
♾️—│ SYSTEM PROFILE │—♾️
Name : Matthew
Race : Human
Talent : [Odin's Insight]
Tier : World-Class
Origin : Unique – Exclusive to All Realms
│ Description: │
→ Odin's Insight allows the host to bypass comprehension steps and directly obtain mastery-level understanding of any concept, law, or spell the world permits.
♾️—————————♾️
The system had finally arrived!
The essential cheat for transmigrators—the golden finger to defy fate!
It came just in time!!
Wait a minute...
Why is it only showing a comprehension talent...?
[The system automatically assists the host in comprehending, and the host directly obtains the results of comprehension...]
Was this golden finger given to the wrong person?
More importantly...
Where's the invincible host-protection mechanism?
Where's the all-realm-connected system store?
At the very least, there should be a beginner's gift package, right?
That's it?
For all the grandeur of the earlier prompt messages, the current system was incredibly brief.
Staring at the dagger suspended above his head in his foster father's hand, the mix of unwillingness and despair sent Matthew into a frenzy.
This feeling—of rising hope, only to plunge back into despair—was far more cruel than despair alone.
I don't want to die!
I won't accept this!
System, whatever it is—comprehend it for me now!
Give me the results directly!!
He didn't know where the strength came from, but he began to struggle hysterically.
His face twisted, and his eyes gradually turned blood-red...
His sanity was slipping fast, and something unknown surged up from deep within, taking over instinct...
"Plane analysis successful."
"Origin law stripping successful."
"Virtual Godhead constructing..."
"Insufficient energy, construction failed."
"Insufficient divine rank, all related information hidden."
The system chimed out a series of cold, mechanical prompts.
In the next instant, Matthew was yanked back into harsh reality.
He checked the panel, but no new information had appeared. Instead, he noticed the cloth that had been gagging his mouth was gone.
He wasn't sure whether it had fallen out during his struggle or if his foster father had removed it.
"Don't be afraid, child. You've done well enough." His foster father gently stroked Matthew's head. "Father was always worried whether you could hold on until now..."
The bloody red light flickered constantly, pushing back the darkness and casting a glow over his foster father's pale, sickly face.
"Do you see this beautiful crimson? Soon, we'll go to God's kingdom together..."
His voice was filled with pride, yet his expression remained solemn. Under the illumination of the red light, he even gave off an eerie sense of holiness.
Matthew was stunned by his words and instinctively looked down at the strange magical array spreading across the floor.
A prompt suddenly flashed on Matthew's data panel.
In that instant, he fully understood everything about the array—its operational principles, layout structure, sacrificial incantations, and specific functions.
Due to system's comprehension... yes, it was thanks to the system's Odin's Insight, wasn't it?
Well, I do enjoy skipping the hard part and reaping the results directly.
Well done, system!
It turned out this was a contract array—used to summon beings from another dimension by sacrificing souls as anchor points.
Unexpectedly, even though the array was incomplete, it had still been activated.
However, it was so damaged that its contractual functions had already failed.
There was no such thing as "going to God's kingdom," as his foster father claimed. In fact, the array had even passively exposed the world's coordinates.
The bad news was that some unknown entity had apparently already locked onto the array through those coordinates.
Once the number of sacrificed souls reached the critical threshold, spatial transmission would begin automatically.
That unknown entity might even descend directly...
But in his current desperate situation, Matthew couldn't afford to think that far. He only knew that the array was close to reaching the critical point—
Only one soul left!
He suddenly looked up, his eyes blazing with a fierce will to survive, meeting his foster father's gaze.
It doesn't have to be me who's the last!
(Image)