As they got close to the heap of mud and bones, the creatures that were created from it began to collapse one by one, turning into the mixture of mud and bones.

But its hold on the barbarians did not lessen, it grew even stronger as they were drawn into the entrance of the heap. Galthor walked faster to secure his position at the front so he could face any troubles head on.

The inside of the heap was dark and musty, with a strong smell of rot. Bones littered the ground and jutted from the wall like fangs.

Galthor's eyes cut through the dark and he immediately focused on the source of the trouble. The relic.

The relic was at the very back of the room, sitting with its back against the wall like a weary old woman. The relic itself had no form of its own, but it used mud and bones to construct a body for itself around the actual body of the relic.

And it was far better than the creatures that were following them earlier.

The mud woman was made in the shape of a woman, short and disfigured. The bones were arranged somewhat competently and then warped with mud.

In the very center of the chest was a book that was covered by a dirty brown mud glow. The relic.

When they entered, the relic was doing something. It was hunched over a dead corpse of a monster. Mud and bones continued to rise in tentacle form from the ground to strip the monster of flesh and to reveal the bones.

Galthor watched this while his masters went still around him, their faces expressionless. They would wait there till it was their turn to be stripped of flesh and turned into bones.

"Lord Galthor, are you going to deal with this?"

A voice suddenly cut through the silence of the dark and musty room. Everything tensed and held their breath. Even the relic went still, with shock and surprise radiating from it.

But Galthor was not surprised. "Lady Pelica, it seems you have grown bored of observing."

Indeed, Galthor knew she was not being controlled from the start. Just like him, she was simply following along to see which way things would end.

Or maybe she was observing what the Apostle of Unchanging Wrath would do.

"I grow bored, also, we still have a target to meet. We have not completed any of our objectives today," she stated calmly.

"Hummm," Galthor said.

The relic turned to face them, opened its mouth, and let out a loud screech.

The barbarians turned to Galthor, opened their mouths as well, and prepared to scream before attacking, but the chief was careful steps ahead of them.

He raised his right hand and made a clawing motion as if he was pulling on something. It was the connection that held the relic connected to the others.

With his hand now bursting with a golden glow, he cut all the connections as if they were not even there. Although he might not have his godhood powers at the moment, he had lesser miracles and his Divine energy.

And he did not hold back.

Besides, mind attacks were becoming increasingly weak against him.

The barbarians snapped back to their senses and looked around them in bewilderment and confusion.

"Chief? Where is this place?"

"How did we get here? Are we under attack? What are we fighting?"

"What is going on?"

Galthor remained calm, his gaze pinned on the relic. "Go outside, all of you, I will deal with this."

Although the others did not exactly know what was happening, they still listened to the orders of their chief and went out of the mud heap, even Lady Pelica.

Leaving only him alone.

He continued to stare at the relic. "Relic can be destroyed. You are no match for me. Surrender now or I will totally destroy you for daring to do what you did to my subordinates."

The relic went still, head tilted toward him. And then, maybe it was the fear, or it understood the danger it was in, the relic book floated out of the mud and the book cautiously flew closer, radiating meekness.

Galthor watched it carefully as it floated closer... closer still, and when it was just a few feet away, it suddenly shot forward.

At the same time, the mud heap squirmed and rippled like one organism. Countless sharpened bones appeared around the wall, covered in burning brown energy, and shot at him from all angles.

Only to be stopped from piercing his skin because it was covered in Divine energy.

Galthor looked at the relic and he grinned. "Sneaky little bastard. You have even learned how to manipulate. But your intelligence is not up there yet. Next time, you should put all that dull energy into a single bone and create a distraction somewhere while you hit from below."

The pages of the book flapped in agitation and it tried to fly away, creating a hole in the wall.

But Galthor was ready for something like that and his hand snapped up as if trying to kill a fly, and he snatched the book from the air.

He brought the book towards him and he frowned at it. He could feel its will and intent.

Galthor shook his head and made a small wound on his left hand, then he smeared the blood on the book.

The relic went limp, and then suddenly started fighting harder when it realized what was about to happen. The heap of the wall shook wildly, shooting out bones and even collapsing above him to crush him.

But Galthor stood there unfazed.

With the blood as a means of connection, he imposed his will brutally on the relic, binding it and taking control.

He was now the owner of the relic.

The room stabilized in an instant and the bones began to float around him, covered by brown energy.

"What a strange relic," Galthor muttered. He could still feel the will of the relic and its little intelligence. And at the moment it was sending the feeling of sadness and grief over him.

He shook his head. "This is why you do not hunt what you should not."

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