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A chilling, bone-piercingly cold wind swept out. Ince Zangwill stepped over the piled stones through the collapsed outer wall, slowly entering the ancient castle that had lost its main Door, treading on the shattered floor tiles.
Following his senses, Ince Zangwill looked towards the steps that revealed the separation between the castle's hall and dining room, a complex expression emerging in his eyes.
There, a strong yet illusory sense of longing seemed to be calling him. This feeling was incredibly familiar to him; once upon a time, he was just one step away.
Ince Zangwill walked over with his head lowered, and the steps immediately let out a heavy, grating sound.
The floor there cracked open, revealing a downward staircase, filled with a cold and filthy sensation that almost solidified into a tangible form.
Eerie blue ghost flames flickered. Ince Zangwill descended the stairs, his footsteps echoing silently, until he reached the lowest level of the basement.
In the center of the basement lay a black coffin, its iron nails a dark red color.
Ince Zangwill scrutinized it for a moment, then cautiously picked up a quill pen, and sentences appeared on the coffin one by one:
"It seems to sense a familiar aura from Ince Zangwill. This Wraith, formed from a Death descendant who died with resentment, did not choose to attack."
After completing this, countless faces, some formless, some distorted, emerged from Ince Zangwill's body, transforming into a bizarre Door.
Creak!
The illusory Door opened, and pale arms stretched out, scrambling to grab the dark red iron nails. Before all the arms evaporated into black mist, the coffin was finally opened.
A sudden, illusory but piercing roar erupted, and dense black mist inexplicably spread out, rapidly expanding towards Ince Zangwill.
A tall figure soon emerged from the black mist. He wore black full-body armor and wielded a broadsword that would be difficult for a normal person to swing.
The figure, exuding Death, looked at Ince Zangwill. Two flame-like red lights pierced through the gaps in his faceplate, meeting his single eye, which was so blue it appeared almost black.
Just then, a pure white quill pen cut through the black mist, severing the head of the skeleton in the coffin.
Looking at the crystalline white bone in his hand, Ince Zangwill's lips curved into a smile. He no longer paid attention to the illusory Wraith roaring in the black mist, and his figure gradually vanished from the spot.
-----------------
Faint calls echoed, and that inexplicable sense of familiarity gradually cleared Azik's muddled mind.
Vaguely, he saw a tall castle in the style of the early Fifth Epoch. Fields were cultivated, and a boy of seven or eight years old ran over, dragging a broadsword taller than himself.
It seemed as if he stood before him, and a tender voice spoke:
"I want to become a great knight like Father someday..."
A sense of comfort, appearing from nowhere, permeated him. Azik subconsciously tried to reach out and touch the boy, who was both familiar and strange, but he shattered the moment he made contact.
A completely different scene abruptly emerged:
The ancient castle, almost in ruins, stretched its body outwards in the thick Darkness, its spires reaching towards the sky, desolate, wild, eerie, and dim.
In the dim basement, a headless white skeleton lying in a coffin slowly stood up, and an illusory whisper emerged:
"Father..."
Thump, thump...
Azik suddenly opened his eyes, fine beads of sweat seeping from his forehead, his heart pounding violently. The office, illuminated by the crimson moonlight, instantly darkened by several shades, and a chilling sensation permeated the air.
The sudden change startled a young man with black hair and brown eyes, who had a distinct scholarly aura, as he had just pushed open the Door and entered. He nervously explained, his voice trembling slightly:
"M-Mr. Azik, I'm here to submit the compiled historical materials from the Fourth Epoch that you assigned earlier..."
Azik pressed his hands to his temples, and after a long sigh, the previous deep, chilling sensation immediately vanished. A somewhat weary voice came:
"Klein, it's very late. Why haven't you gone home yet?"
After the chilling sensation disappeared, a hint of color gradually returned to Klein's face. He responded somewhat sheepishly:
"I still have a lot of data compilation tasks left over from New Year's that I haven't finished yet. And today my tutor also said that if I can complete all the tasks he assigned before April..."
"...and produce results that satisfy him, he will give me a recommendation letter for Tingen University or Backlund University. That way, I can attend the interviews for the history departments of these two universities in June this year."
Looking at Mr. Azik, who had returned to normal, Klein suddenly remembered something and slapped his head:
"This weekend, Horamick Haydn, an Glory professor of physics at Backlund University, will be giving a lecture at our school. The director reserved a seat for you and asked me to inform you."
Azik subtly frowned. That Archbishop of the God of Church of the God of Steam and Machinery... After a moment of contemplation, he slowly shook his head:
"I might be out this weekend, Klein. You can attend this lecture for me, and then you can recount it to me."
Klein was stunned for a moment, then a look of pleasant surprise appeared on his face, and he quickly nodded.
Azik hummed in acknowledgment. After Klein put down the compiled report and left, he turned his head to look at the Crimson Moon outside the window and fell silent.
-----------------
Tingen, a basement in the factory district.
The gloomy, dark room was covered in bizarre patterns, and items exuding a distorted, evil aura were placed in every corner of the room.
Hood Eugen stood in the center, a faint golden light overflowing from his heart, and grayish-white scales vaguely appearing on his face.
Opposite him was a young woman with long golden hair, her emerald eyes slightly vacant, but her face full of a happy smile—Megose.
After a moment, Hood Eugen stepped back a few paces, looked at Lanevus beside him, and said with a smile:
"I have deeply hypnotized Megose. The plan can begin. The necessary help you mentioned..."
Before he finished speaking, colorful patches of light abruptly appeared in the corner of the dark basement, and a black-robed figure holding half of a crystalline skull stepped out.
A hoarse voice came from beneath the hood, brief and direct:
"It can begin!"
Feeling the heavy Death and the terrifying oppressive sensation, the smile on Hood Eugen's face vanished. He felt as if he was being stared at by a ferocious beast, and if he uttered a single word of refusal, he would be instantly torn to shreds.
Lanevus, however, showed no additional reaction, seeming accustomed to it. He slowly stepped forward, took off his upper garment, revealing a pitch-black mark on his chest where his heart was—a pair of indifferent eyes.
His face twitched slightly. Lanevus endured the pain, used a knife to cut open his chest, and let the blood drip into Megose's mouth.
At the same time, he half-raised his hands, adopting an open-armed posture, and loudly chanted in Hermes:
"The Lord Who Created Everything;
The Master behind the Curtain of Shadows;
The Degenerate Nature of All Living Beings."
"Your humble believer implores your descent; implores you to bestow a child!"
"I am willing to offer this body, for her to be the vessel, to bear Your great will!"
Amidst the prayers, Ince Zangwill, completely enveloped in his black robe, casually threw the half-skull into the center of the ritual. At the same time, a pure white quill pen wrote a sentence within his wide sleeve:
"The great existence who controls the authority of corruption has always yearned to break through the seal. Even if that lamb's prayer is not devout, He does not mind making a small attempt. This is very reasonable!"
The handwriting dissipated even faster than it was written. Ince Zangwill's face beneath the black robe instantly turned as pale as paper, and the hand holding the quill pen trembled slightly.
Deep within the Forsaken Land of the Gods, at the summit of a mountain, stood a giant cross between reality and illusion.
A blurry figure was Hanged upside down there, with several ancient wooden stakes piercing through His body, stained with fresh blood that was still flowing but not dripping downwards.
At the base of the cross, "Angel of Fate" Ouroboros, wearing a simple linen robe and with waist-length silver hair, sat there, eyes closed in gentle and devout prayer.
The next second, the Hanged figure on the giant cross suddenly faded, spreading into a Curtain of Shadows that connected the sky above and the earth below. Behind the veil, a pair of indifferent eyes seemed to be watching the entire world.
At the same time, all the statues in the basement turned to dust. A sudden, dim light descended from an unknown place, completely enveloping Megose and Lanevus.
Excruciating pain struck, directly interrupting the prayer. Lanevus's chest flesh distorted, forming a fist-sized, wriggling mass of flesh.
At the top of the flesh mass, a pair of light gray, indifferent eyes, seemingly watching the entire world, protruded.
The unwilling resentments of the surrounding human-shaped figures and the accumulated negative emotions surged inwards like a tide, pouring into the fist-sized, wriggling mass of flesh.
The flesh mass instantly merged into the skull originating from the Death descendant, and spreading blood vessels engulfed the broken skull, merging together into Megose's body.
A sudden cry erupted. Lanevus, who had reached his limit, immediately fainted, not noticing a hint of gray light re-entering his body.
Grayish-white scales instantly appeared on Hood Eugen, who was maintaining the hypnosis on Megose with his spreading spirituality, and hysterical laughter burst from his mouth.
Only Ince Zangwill in the corner remained unaffected, enveloped in a glow, watching all of this indifferently. A passage of text vaguely appeared on the nearby wall:
"The True Creator's ritual for descending a child was unbelievably smooth. The pre-arranged methods ensured that everything here went undetected by the outside world. Ince Zangwill's plan has taken another significant step towards success."
-----------------
Deep within the War of the Gods Ruins, on the Specter Empire, in the Mausoleum Hall.
All the golden marks on the "Ghost Painting Frame" were exhausted. After the "Stone of Life," formed by extracting the body of "Saint of Secrets" Botis through a ritual, also merged into the pitch-black coffin, strange waves of fluctuations spread outwards.
The space inside the hall unnaturally distorted. Aaron unconsciously took a few steps back, while Cavendish Lancer actively stepped forward, and an invisible barrier appeared, blocking the anomaly.
"What time is it now?"
"Cavendish, you actually advanced!"
After a long while, an aged voice sounded, and a middle-aged man in a classical robe appeared. A sense of chaos and distortion emerged in Aaron's mind.
This was none other than the slumbering Sequence 3 "Frenzied Mage," Faus Ellen.
Seeing that his former comrade-in-arms had not fallen into madness, a hint of relief flashed in Cavendish Lancer's eyes. He opened his mouth but did not speak, instead stepping back behind Aaron.
Seeing this, Aaron did not hesitate. He stepped forward and said with a smile:
"It is now the 1349th year of the Fifth Epoch. Thousands of years have passed since the War of the Four Emperors, and the empire's bloodline continues. Now I need your help."
"I will provide you with the possibility of further advancement, just like him before."
Aaron said, pointing to Cavendish Lancer, and a Card of Blasphemy appeared in his hand, starlight outlining the Hermes words: "Black Emperor"!
His gaze lingered for a moment. Although he had never heard of the Blasphemy Slate, the attraction from the depths of his Spirit World was incredibly clear.
Faus Ellen looked at Cavendish Lancer, who stood with his head bowed. Highly sensitive to order, he felt two magnificent auras on Aaron. After a moment of silence, he slowly nodded:
"I will not betray my original oath; this is also my faith..."
Seeing his frequent glances towards the depths of the hall, Aaron explained with a smile:
"To awaken Him, some preparations are still needed, and that will take some time."
"Hold onto me, I'll take you out of here first!"
-----------------
Three figures rapidly traversed the Spirit World, moving towards the coordinates previously left in the southern part of West Balam, Southern Continent.
Suddenly, Aaron stopped, frowning as he looked at the chaotically spinning divination pendulum in his hand. Just as he was about to turn to ask Cavendish Lancer, he was startled to find his body uncontrollably drifting sideways, and at an increasing speed.
Invisible fluctuations emanated from Faus Ellen. In the suddenly distorted Spirit World space, Aaron stopped his movement, and while retreating, he frowned and looked to the side.
Chaotically overlapping color blocks and vaguely diffused grayish-white mist suddenly split open, and a huge three-masted sailboat covered in pure black leaped in.
The ship was nearly a hundred meters long, with three pitch-black sails hanging high like banners.
It had cannons on both its port and starboard sides, and Sailors of all kinds ran busily on the deck.
All of this was so real, so tangible, completely out of place with the overall state of the Spirit World.
This was "King of the Five Seas" Nast's symbol, the "Black Emperor"!
On its deck, leaning against the cabin, stood a mottled stone chair two to three meters high. Sitting on the chair was a colossal figure comparable to an ancient giant.
He had a black beard just past his neck, wore a tall, pointed Tower crown, and was draped in a magnificent black robe with silver trim. His facial features were hard and deeply etched, full of majesty, making one instinctively want to lower their head.
Below that slightly wrinkled, broad forehead, and above that high, prominent nose, dark red light flowed in his deep black eyes, making one instinctively want to lower their head.
Faus Ellen also looked towards the center of the ship. As the gazes of the two "Frenzied Mages" converged, a large area of distortion appeared in the entire Spirit World region, and all Spirit World creatures rapidly fled the area.
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