Chapter 123
Chapter 123
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 123 – Shadow World: The Villains’ Banquet in the SanctuaryMay 22, 2024 – by Poor Xixi
In a chaotic darkness, they seemed drowned in the sediment of time, though in truth only a dozen minutes had passed.
At last—like the first ray of dawn piercing through layered night—their vision gradually returned to light, signaling they had successfully synchronized and stepped into the Shadow World.
Lan Qi scanned the surroundings. On either side of him stood Huperion and Frey, their familiar faces unchanged.
His gaze drifted across his companions, finally landing on the floor-to-ceiling glass window ahead.
The clear reflection proved that his own face still retained its original contours.
Outside, the view was obscured; heavy fog blurred everything into a haze.
If not for the faint flicker of fireflies in the garden beyond the glass, they would not even know whether it was dawn or midnight.
Beneath the mist, the world outside seemed suspended between twilight and dawn—mysterious, dreamy, and unreal.
Inside, Lan Qi and Frey were already dressed in formal wear.
Though different in style, their outfits suited their temperaments.
Lan Qi’s beige classical suit paired with a brown vest, hair neatly combed, gave him an elegance more refined than usual.
Frey, by contrast, wore a dark-blue double-breasted trench coat over a casual black suit. Black hard-leather gloves adorned his hands, and half-worn sunglasses shadowed his eyes. His appearance was languid, careless, yet dangerous.
Huperion wore a crimson gown reminiscent of a great poetess. Her exquisite makeup made her seem elegant, radiant, and irresistibly alluring. A light shawl rested on her shoulders, as if warding off a creeping chill.
Their attire confirmed this was not the Demon Realm, nor did it resemble an exam hall of the Demon Academy. This time, there was no forced mechanism locking them into a scenario. Everyone seemed free to move.
The air carried a subtle chill.
Not the bone-piercing cold of winter, but the crisp, austere freshness of breathing atop a high mountain.
The three did not speak at once. Instead, they quietly observed their surroundings.
Before them stretched a vast banquet hall with a dome soaring over ten meters high, yet its atmosphere also evoked that of an ancient cathedral.
Looking up, an immense pipe organ—nearly five stories tall—dominated the rear wall. Some pipes stood straight, others curved; some gleamed gold, others bore the natural grain of wood. Together, they exuded an indescribable sacred solemnity.
Above, a stained-glass dome adorned with intricate golden filigree refracted the glow of crystal chandeliers. It looked like a river of stars spilling from the heavens, casting soft light across dark stone walls and the smooth marble floor.
At the center of the hall stood a grand baroque-style long table. Silver candelabras shimmered in the firelight. On either side, twelve finely carved oak chairs stood in perfect order, embodying a world of lavish feasts and indulgence.
Yet scattered throughout the majestic hall were silent figures.
They stood in groups of two or three, motionless as statues.
Neither the grandeur of the sanctuary, nor the arrival of dawn, nor the chill in the air stirred them.
For the harmony of the hall was already broken.
The metallic tang of blood mingled with the stench of death, filling the air so thickly it drowned out all other scents.
At the far end of the hall, slumped in the high-backed seat of the long table, was a corpse clad in regal garments. His head tilted unnaturally, his face frozen in despair and unwillingness. His empty eyes brimmed with unbearable pain.
From chest to abdomen, his body had been savagely torn open—a grotesque anatomy painted in crimson. A fountain of blood poured from him, staining the marble floor into a tragic work of art.
The flowing scarlet seeped into the patterns of the floor, streaking blood-red marks along the table legs.
This gruesome palette was like an invisible blade, slicing the hall of silver and gold into a twisted cage of terror.
Then, system prompts appeared before their eyes:
[Shadow World: The Villains’ Banquet in the Sanctuary][Level: Fifth Tier]
[It is late autumn. You twelve guests have been invited by Sir Caligula to a gathering at his cliffside castle.]
[Though outwardly of differing social status, you are in truth all members of a secret church, sworn to overthrow the blood clans’ rule over humankind.]
[Yet on that very night, Archbishop Caligula was found dead.]
[Among you twelve, there are traitors who have defected to the blood clan.]
[Number of challengers: 12][Special Identity Challengers: 3]
[Special Role – Detective (Non-Traitor): Automatically assigned to the challenger most suited to unraveling the mystery. Marked by the Cross of Holy Radiance brooch gifted by Sir Caligula.]
[Special Role – Blood Clan Thrall (Traitor): Each day may invoke once the powers of either Count Palocas or Count Sebernard, when awakened.]
[Note: Should a Thrall die, a Count-level vampire lord will arrive at the castle within a day.]
[Objective 1: Identify the traitors. (0/2)][Objective 2: Uncover the secrets and dangers hidden within the castle.][Objective 3: Ensure at least one challenger survives until the 120-hour time limit ends.]
[The traitors’ objectives are different and visible only to them. Non-traitors will receive profession roles, visible only to themselves.]
[Failure of objectives will trigger a catastrophe in the real world.]
[Time Remaining: 119 hours, 59 minutes.][All challengers begin in the Grand Hall.]
High on the hall’s wall, a grand clock hung silently.
Its hands had just passed five-thirty—dawn.
As the Shadow World’s notifications faded, the atmosphere grew taut with tension.
In this castle, danger loomed over all.
Sharp gazes cut across the hall like blades—each person like a caged beast, wary of the others. Everyone knew the truth: they faced five days of a death game, built on trust and betrayal.
This was no ordinary Shadow World.
The enemies were not projected historical figures, but rather challengers themselves—roleplaying history, locked in a deadly game of lies, deception, and murder.
In the sanctuary, challengers—whatever their hidden thoughts—inevitably turned toward the man wearing the Cross of Holy Radiance brooch: the chosen Detective.
He had messy gray hair, a tall, powerful frame radiating the explosive energy of a wild wolf. His chiseled face was half-hidden behind sunglasses. His deep, predatory eyes exuded aggression.
His very presence dripped with arrogance and killing intent.
A killer through and through.
“…”
Wait.
This man… was the Detective?
Meanwhile, in the dead of night at Ikerite Academy, the Gela Memorial Square glowed white.
The clock tower too pointed to half past five.
But the square was already lively.
Students who had guessed Lan Qi and Huperion’s second Shadow World attempt had brought blankets and food, settling on the steps for the best view.
As the outdoor screen lit up with the trio’s Shadow World feed, the square erupted in excitement.
“Frey’s the Detective?!”
“But isn’t he a brute-force fighter?!”
Knights’ College students especially knew Frey’s monstrous strength and stamina. Even at Tier Four, senior Tier Five knights dared not fight him head-on.
In the entrance exam’s third round, he had floored the examiner with a single shocking punch—no tricks, no finesse, just raw power.
Eccentric though his thinking was, he was without doubt the strongest freshman in the Knight Academy’s history.
But… a Detective? He didn’t fit the role at all.
This Fifth-Tier Shadow World was already perilous for the exposed side of challengers. At any moment, they might face unknown vampire powers too overwhelming to resist. Even a Tier Six could die instantly if careless.
For Tier Three or Four challengers, it was outright over-leveled.
The Detective’s skill directly determined survival.
A reliable Detective was the key to identifying the traitors.
If the Detective dragged them down, unable to expose the betrayers in time, the hidden tasks of the traitors would progress unchecked, dooming everyone.
And they couldn’t corner the traitors too harshly, either. If desperate, the Thralls might sacrifice themselves to summon a Count-level vampire.
When that happened, annihilation was inevitable.
Even Tier Seven powerhouses couldn’t withstand a Count’s immortality. A duel was unwinnable.
Together, the challengers couldn’t hope to defeat one. They might endure the day—but at nightfall, they’d be slaughtered.
“This is bad. If Lan Qi were the Detective, fine… but why Frey…”
“Detective must be a non-traitor. Then… could Lan Qi be a Thrall?”
Speculation flared.
Yet because Lan Qi and Huperion had enabled the Shadow World Recording Protocol, their roles were visible:
Lan Qi – Lawyer (familiar with the kingdom’s laws, can access legal codes on his interface)
Huperion – Actress (draws aggression more easily)
Both had standard objectives.
Clearly, none of the trio were traitors.
The betrayers hid among the other nine unknowns.
In Gela Square, the dim flicker of the outdoor screen played across anxious student faces.
Just imagining themselves in this lethal Shadow World sent chills down spines, gooseflesh prickling their arms.
At nightfall—
What awaited them—
Could be the same fate as Sir Caligula, torn open upon the high seat.
“These Shadow Worlds of deceit and betrayal are brutal on the mind,” a senior muttered grimly. “Many break down before the end, even choosing suicide for release.”
But as his eyes fell back on the screen—at the Detective, the Lawyer, the Actress—he thought of the academy’s recent “Promote Civility, Foster New Morals” campaign, and choked on his words.
“With these three student-union bullies in there, doesn’t the whole vibe feel… off?”