The Shepherds Are Dense-Chapter 47: Jackpot!

Glass Isle, White Queen District.
On the second floor of the all-white Braun Hotel, a well-dressed and civilized young gentleman was leisurely enjoying a freshly cooked steak in his room.
Standing beside his table was a maid in spirit form. Her translucent, all-white body appeared to be that of a girl around seventeen or eighteen. Her outfit resembled the “Fox’s”—a white priest’s robe without a ceremonial tiara. Only her spine was corporeal; through her semi-transparent body, one could barely make out its pale color.
Suddenly, the girl leaned in and whispered something into the gentleman’s ear. Her mouth moved, but no sound emerged.
Yet the gentleman reacted as if he’d heard her. He raised an eyebrow, took out a gemstone-inlaid gold pocket watch from his breast pocket, and opened it.
“It’s almost over, huh.”
After glancing at the time, he put it away and stuffed the last piece of steak into his mouth.
He chewed heartily, the juices overflowing. The tough sinew made a grating sound, but his strong teeth crushed it with ease, and he swallowed.
The young gentleman muttered in satisfaction, tinged with reluctance, “Such a shame to part with such a young and healthy body…”
Meanwhile—
In the room below, a maid resembling the newsboy idly swept the floor, sighing with concern.
“It’s finally ending… What a torment. That was terrifying.”
Elsewhere, Sherlock, hiding with Lulu inside an abandoned chemical plant, found he had little to talk about with Her Royal Highness. They maintained a polite but awkward silence.
He focused on the sun as it climbed to its zenith.
Then he spoke.
“It’s about time.”
“What?”
Lulu, holding the sleeping child, instinctively responded—then quickly realized and perked up.
“The ritual’s ending?”
“There are still four survivors. Those two never died.”
Sherlock muttered, “The ‘Bone Idol’... Lars Graham, was it? I’ll look into him.”
“If he’s not—don’t say I told you!”
Lulu whispered nervously.
The newsboy sighed.
“My esteemed princess,” he said lazily, “even if I did say so, he wouldn’t know it came from you. I know ‘Lulu,’ not ‘Isabelle du Lac’.”
“...Eh?”
Suddenly hearing her real name, Lulu—doing her best to act as “Annie Alexander”—widened her eyes.
“Master Yannis is really irresponsible. Sure, the first advancement ritual doesn’t punish failure, and your noble status protects your real identity from being perceived. But some basic common sense should’ve been taught. Not every setback is meaningful—especially since you’ve endured quite a few already.”
Sherlock adjusted his newsboy cap and spoke with calm detachment:
“I’ll be submitting a full to Her Majesty the Queen. That includes the ritual’s abnormal difficulty, intelligence on the ‘Bone Idol’, ‘Knight’, ‘Fox’, and ‘Cocoa’, as well as everything between you and Mr. Fox. Of course, it also includes the mistakes you made during the ritual—I’ve committed all of them to memory, down to the last detail.
“This time, it ends here. But remember—from the second advancement ritual onward, failure and death will come at a cost.
“I’m one of the few Wisdom-path supernaturals in Avalon. Unless something changes, Her Majesty will likely assign me to advance alongside you—to protect you during the ritual. I hope that next time we meet, you’ll have corrected that naively charming flaw of yours.”
He paused, gazing into the flustered and startled eyes of “Annie Alexander.”
Then he added:
“I’ll try to investigate the Fox’s real-world identity for you. But don’t get your hopes too high. My top priorities going forward will be the ‘Sweater Brotherhood’ and the ‘Bone Idol.’”
“...Eh? Th-thank you, Mr. Sherlock…”
Though Lulu had no idea how she was exposed, she wasn’t exactly surprised to be unmasked by the famous Sherlock Hermes. But when he offered to help investigate the “Fox,” she felt a hint of embarrassment—but didn’t reject the offer.
Seeing this, Sherlock sighed again and said nothing more.
At that moment
, a bright light suddenly filled everyone’s vision—a pure white brilliance that heralded the collapse and dissolution of the ritual world.
All participants—dead or alive—saw a series of shifting images flash before their eyes.
A dark-haired, blue-eyed young priest placed his hand on a child’s nape, light radiating from his palm;
A severely wounded inspector, belly torn open by the Hook Demon, stood firm with his back to fleeing civilians, his lawgiver’s short sword shining bright white;
A deep green water demon’s claw tightly gripped the Hook Demon, white smoke rising as the demon screamed silently, its face twisted in rage;
A bone staff was tossed into the air, glowing dim yellow, as strands of white smoke spiraled out—forming a translucent, blurry-faced girl’s ghost;
The young priest raised a paper cutter and, without hesitation, slashed his own throat;
A chubby, dark-skinned man had his head gripped by a pale, skeletal hand—his quivering eyes and fat cheeks bulging between its fingers;
Under the setting sun, Annie Alexander cradled the sleeping young Aiwass, her face filled with grief and quiet strength.
In the next instant
, the visions and the entire surrounding world began to disintegrate into sand.
Everything scattered like drifting dust.
The sand swirled into the air, reversed direction, and was sucked into a massive glowing hourglass.
Aiwass awoke
, took a moment to collect his complicated emotions, and decided to ask some indirect questions—hold off on drawing conclusions.
After all, the intel from within the ritual
might not
be completely accurate… right?
…Still, truth be told, he’d already suspected as much.
This had been within expectations.
Aiwass sighed and looked up, finding himself once again in his “Faceless Priest” form—seated in that enormous, intimidating chair.
But this time, he wasn’t surrounded by pitch black, nor were the other eight chairs and participants present.
Instead, he was enveloped in pure light.
Just like his very first advancement, a world with no shadows.
Streams of glowing screens descended before him—it was his ritual score:
[Required Objective Completed (Points: 600)]
[Preserve Yourself: Ensure your own survival (Not Completed)]
[Heart as Sanctuary: Do not hide in the Cathedral of the Candlebearer—proactively go to Law Square (Points: 100)]
[I Do Not Forget My Nature: Heal someone fated to die (Points: 100)]
[One and Done: Find and kill the culprit (Points: 500)]
[My Beloved Jasmine: Ensure your wife Annie Alexander survives (Points: 500)]
[Live Longer: Be the last to die among the nine ritualists—or die as late as possible (Points: 100)]
[The Beginning of It All: Discover the mastermind (Points: 1000)]
[Total Score: 2900 — Ranked 1st]
That familiar, crystal-clear ruby-colored stag appeared in the distance once more.
Its blood dripped onto the ground, igniting glowing red hoofprints.
It walked up to Aiwass and gently licked his cheek.
Then, the black thorns around its neck pierced Aiwass’s skin, leaving a faint wound from which
black blood
oozed—
Three lines of text emerged before Aiwass’s eyes.
[Light Affinity Lv1 (Blue): You were wounded by the Sin Thorn of the Candlebearer and glimpsed a sliver of the essence of light.]
Before he could read the other two lines, they were consumed by black fire.
Two
purple
lights flared up, humming with a heavy resonance.
The familiar sound made Aiwass’s eyes fly open in shock—and excitement.
—Jackpot!
He’d hit the loot table
on his first advancement
!
And not just one—
two purple traits
!
…Could the score ranking really influence drop quality?
That was never a thing in the game…
But actually—it made perfect sense.
Maybe it
was
a hidden mechanic in the original design, later removed for balance…
Aiwass widened his eyes as he saw the two rare purple traits:
[Vessel of Flame and Radiance (Purple): Light is born of fire, and fire drifts within light. Your soul is nourished by both.]
[Tainted Light Lv1 (Purple): No light is truly pure—just like the human heart. You have begun to infuse your light with venom.]
(End of Chapter)