Records of the Weakest Emperor

Chapter 83: The Two Minutes that Seemed to be Longer than Eternity(3)

The Mortician could also be considered as a monster just below the big three in Mount Spirit Sword Asylum.

He was far powerful than the average patients, but he also had a special place in Mount Spirit Sword Asylum. He may not be as strong as the Benevolent Father, Arthur Chase, and the Butcher but none of these three dared to offend him.

It was because the Mortician was a madman.

He was a known corpse collector and none of the patients, even the big three knew what he did with those corpses. All they knew was that the Mortician liked to collect them and he strived to keep the cleanliness of the asylum like the Butcher.

Speaking of corpses, Calvin's group had just encountered a mountain of corpses earlier.

Perhaps, the reason why they bumped into the Mortician was that the Mortician was going towards that room and they were coincidentally using the same route as the Mortician. No matter what the reason was, there was something certain in their current situation.

This was bad...

After all, if the Mortician was here, those cultists should be nearby!

Calvin's mind madly spun.

They could not turn around for the Tiyanaks were behind them, but they also couldn't move forward for the Mortician was right in front of them. With the appearance of the Mortician, those cultists would be here soon. As the leader of that cult, the Mortician couldn't possibly be alone.

Once they were surrounded by those cultists, it would be game over for Calvin and the entire group.

Calvin took a piece of crumpled paper and hurled it at the Mortician.

"Kalayo, gawas... Release!" Calvin made a gesture with his fingers and uttered an incantation.

In a blink of an eye, the piece of crumpled paper transformed into a fire dragon that swallowed the Mortician whole!

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"Let's get the hell out of here! Run!"

Calvin then gave his command as he rushed past the Mortician. The others followed suit, they didn't dare to slow down at all as they struggled to keep up with Calvin's pace.

"He's fast!" Hugo couldn't help but comment upon seeing Calvin's speed. Hugo's specialty may not be cardio, but he considered himself as a fast runner.

But Calvin's speed was double, No triple than him! He sped through the entire corridor as Hugo clicked his tongue and matched his pace with the others.

He couldn't possibly increase his speed anymore for that would mean that he would leave the others behind. These women may be strong-willed but in the face of the monsters in this nightmare of an asylum. They couldn't possibly stand a chance!

Scarlette and the others saw that Hugo was matching their pace and they couldn't help but feel grateful. They hated themselves for judging Hugo as a dangerous man back when their nightmare in this place had just started.

But while they were feeling grateful towards Hugo's gesture, Jannette suddenly interrupted their train of thought.

"What is that?"

Medea's expression paled upon seeing the bright lights near the end of the corridor. Those lights looked dim and ethereal. It seemed as if they could vanish at any moment. However, despite the weak light that they emanated. Medea felt a shiver down her spine upon seeing those lights.

The group continued on and upon reaching about ten meters before those bright lights, they could finally see the pale faces within those lights. Medea stopped running and shouted at Calvin, "Calvin stop! Those lights are Santelmos!"

Hugo detected the panic in Medea's voice. Veins bulged on his knees as he leaped after Calvin and dragged him to stop. However, Calvin's speed didn't decrease at all.

In fact, he was angered that Hugo stopped him from running as he complained, "Santelmos aren't that dangerous compared to that tall man earlier... Just slip past them all and make sure to not let their ethereal fires land on your body and it'll be good!"

Santelmos, also known as Saint Elmo's Fire were monsters born from the resentment of countless damned souls in the asylum.

They were slow-moving balls of light and it wasn't that hard to evade them, but the most terrifying attribute that they had was that once they touched something with a physical form.

Their ethereal fire would consume that object or person until nothing was left but dust.

And their ethereal fire was also inextinguishable.

In other words, touching one of these Santelmos meant certain death.

Medea was dumbfounded.

In her shock, she didn't notice that a ball of Santelmo had appeared in front of her and blocked her path in the hallway.

But before she could even react, Calvin threw another piece of crumpled paper and a fire sprung, swallowing the Santelmo and quickly extinguishing its ethereal fire.

"What are you doing standing there like a sitting duck? Come here! Hurry!" Calvin gestured for the others and the group ran like madmen through the corridors. They didn't feel tired, but it was probably because of the adrenaline coursing through their veins at this moment.

Even though they couldn't understand Calvin's words, all that they had to know was that this corridor was dangerous.

They had to get the hell out of this place as fast as possible.

The next corridor had a fork.

The map told the group that they must turn left.

But just as they were about to reach the fork, they suddenly heard the sound of footsteps tapping onto the ground in a particular rhythm. They turned to look at the right corridor and each and every one of them froze upon seeing the group of people.

The group of people was humming sad tunes, and they also wore mourning clothes.

They wailed and wailed, but there were no tears. In fact, they seemed to be happy about what was going on. Paper money, as well as rice, was being thrown about as they danced around the portrait of a person placed on top of a pedestal.

The person depicted in the portrait was a particularly handsome man.

However, when one stared into his eyes, they could see the madness brewing from within.

His madness wasn't the madness of a man that had gone senile or descended to insanity. It was a different kind of madness that had the intention to swallow the world and paint it with the colors of despair.

"This is bad!" Calvin gasped for air.

His fist tightened until his palm looked pale and devoid of blood.

They were indeed those cultists whose appearance he feared!