Chapter 39: The Gate of Sacrifice

The temple doors slammed shut behind them with a deafening thud, sending a wave of stale, metallic-scented air rushing past. It smelled of rust and decay, as if the entire structure was nothing more than an ancient coffin, slowly sealing itself.

Lin Han pressed his back against the cold wooden door, feeling the rough texture bite into his skin. Beside him, Noya's breathing was sharp and uneven. Their eyes met for a split second—both saw the unease and silent calculation flickering within.

At the center of the temple stood a colossal bronze serpent, its metallic scales glistening eerily under the flickering candlelight. It was curled up in a menacing posture, its head lifted, fangs bared, and a thick strand of saliva dripping from its jaws.

A black-robed elder stood in the shadows, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his wrinkled lips.

"The offering has arrived. The ritual will soon be complete."

Lin Han's grip tightened.

The crimson sigils on the ground pulsed and twisted, like living parasites embedded into the stone floor. A faint red glow illuminated the temple, casting grotesque shadows that seemed to move on their own.

Noya instinctively tightened her grip on her gun, her fingers damp with sweat.

"Walau eh, this old uncle really playing some kind of game ah?" she muttered under her breath, scanning the surroundings.

Before Lin Han could respond, the sigils suddenly rose from the ground—long, thin strands of blood-red energy slithering through the air, reaching toward them like spectral vines.

Lin Han leaped back, but the strands moved unnaturally fast, wrapping around his ankle in an instant. A chilling sensation surged through his veins, like ice water being injected directly into his bloodstream.

"Damn it—" He gritted his teeth, yanking out his dagger and slashing through the tendrils. The moment his blade sliced through them, his own blood splattered onto the ground, sizzling as if it had touched molten iron.

Noya reacted instantly, raising her gun and firing two precise shots. The bullets tore through the spectral strands, causing them to shriek like wounded animals before dissolving into nothingness.

"These things got weakness one!" she shouted.

The black-robed elder tilted his head slightly, as if amused.

"Pointless struggle."

He lifted a gnarled finger and flicked it forward—

Lin Han's eyes widened as he heard a sharp crack above. The bronze bells hanging from the temple ceiling shattered, raining down shards of metal. But before they hit the ground, the fragments froze mid-air, forming a swirling sigil—a blood-red cage closing in around them.

"Move!"

Just as they were about to be trapped, a low, guttural wail echoed from deep within the temple.

The bronze serpent statue cracked open—thick, tar-like black liquid oozing out, spilling onto the ground in slow, deliberate movements. The liquid pulsed, as if alive, and began to coalesce into a shadowy, humanoid figure.

It had no facial features—only a pair of hollow, abyss-like voids where its eyes should be.

The black-robed elder's smirk deepened. His voice trembled, not with fear, but with devotion.

"Finally… you have returned."

The shadow slowly raised a hand, pointing directly at Lin Han and Noya.

The air in the room grew unnaturally still.

Noya felt a jolt of electricity rush through her fingers. Her heart slammed against her ribcage as her instincts took over—

She pulled the trigger.

Bang! Bang!

Two rounds struck the shadow's chest. But instead of piercing through, the bullets sank into the darkness, rippling the way water reacts to a pebble. The entity remained utterly unharmed.

"Walao eh, this one confirm cheat code lah!" Noya cursed under her breath.

Lin Han didn't respond, his focus locked onto the creature's swirling black mist. The energy it emitted was eerily similar to the decayed corpses they had encountered outside the temple.

—This thing was neither human nor ghost. It was something far worse.

The shadow laughed.

The sound was jagged, like rusted metal scraping against stone, sending chills down their spines.

And then—it lunged.

"Lin Han, MOVE!"

Noya reacted in an instant, shoving him aside while raising her gun once more. But the shadow was faster than expected, appearing before her in a blink—its inky-black fingers stretching toward her forehead.

At the very last second—

A razor-sharp gust of wind sliced through the air, slamming into the shadow's body, forcing it backward!

Lin Han's head snapped toward the temple entrance.

A man stood there, dressed in a dark trench coat, half of his face hidden in the shadows. His fingers idly turned a string of aged prayer beads, as if unimpressed by the chaos before him.

"Ah… almost missed the fun," he murmured.

His gaze lifted, sharp and assessing.

Lin Han narrowed his eyes. There, on the man's wrist, was a very distinct tattoo—

The emblem of Genting Group.

"Who are you?" Lin Han asked, his voice low.

The man smirked. His fingers stopped moving over the prayer beads.

"The one who's saving your ass."