Vincent was honestly a little stunned. This had only been a first attempt, and yet it had worked on the very first try.
He immediately directed his thoughts inward and entered the ancient room of the Land of Chaos — and found the Scale hovering in midair, just as before, now wrapped in a gentle veil of golden radiance, within which a shimmering human silhouette could dimly be seen.
Vincent considered for a moment, then directed his spirituality toward it. The silhouette sharpened rapidly — and it was himself, from just moments ago, reciting quietly in Hermes: "Ruler of the Realm of Entropy... Arbiter of the Unbalanced Scale... Shadow Between Order and Rules..."
The voice carried across a vast and formless distance, as though coming from somewhere far away.
Vincent scratched his head. "Honestly... compared to Klein's Above the Grey Fog, this feels like the budget edition."
Above the Grey Fog boasted a grand, ancient palace, a throne belonging to the Fool, the power to conjure a bronze table and bronze chairs, and grey mist wreathing everything in all directions, with the stars of the spirit realm gleaming within the fog. When someone prayed, a great screen would appear in the depths of the mist.
What did he have? A ruin-like platform that couldn't even change shape to suit his preferences. The prayer image was a miniature, stripped-down version.
Comprehensively outclassed.
If I could hold a gathering the way Klein did, and people stood here looking around — right, there's nowhere to even sit, unless they went to the sitting room?
...Who in their right mind would believe you were some great and mysterious existence? Name one 'great existence' whose divine realm is a one-bed, one-sitting-room flat.
He was still frowning over this when the golden radiance emanating from the Scale rolled slowly toward him. The moment it touched him, it conveyed a message: he could, through the Scale, grant extraordinary abilities to believers who prayed to him — a Blessing.
At present, he could only grant the ability of a Sequence 9 Broker, and only to two individuals at most.
The recipient of a Blessing would become a Broker themselves, with access to all of a Broker's abilities, but without needing to roleplay or digest. Whenever Vincent wished, he could reclaim those lent abilities.
Furthermore: any action taken by a Blessed recipient to facilitate a deal or cooperation would count as though Vincent himself had facilitated it, and could add grey Astral Crystals to the Scale.
Additionally, beyond granting Blessings personally to those who prayed, he could also establish a fixed ritual — requiring a specific offering — through which a petitioner could actively seek a Blessing on their own initiative.
"This is... basically outsourcing. Or staffing-agency labour."
Delegating down level by level, exploiting every level below, while he sat at the top reaping the benefits.
Was the Sequence 0 of the Broker's Pathway going to be called Capitalist or something?
Honestly, it wasn't out of the question — after all, Sequence 8 was already called Shadow Trader! At this rate he'd end up getting strung up on a lamppost by a furious mob one day. Ye bozhe...
After this brief bout of self-mockery, Vincent felt a trace of genuine regret. Being limited to Blessing only two workers right now was a pity — if he could Bless hundreds or thousands, he could have gone fully idle and just lived off the proceeds.
"But according to the Scale's conditions, only those who have already prayed to me can receive a Blessing."
Vincent tried channelling more spirituality into the Scale's golden radiance, but besides replaying the recording of his own prayer from moments ago, nothing else happened. He couldn't connect to others through it the way Klein could through the glowing red stars visible Above the Grey Fog — that, it seemed, was a feature exclusive to that space.
Which also raised the question: could he pull another person's spiritual body in here? And when he sent a reply to a petitioner, how would they receive it?
Vincent directed his spirituality toward his own prayer-image and spoke a reply: "Understood."
Then he immediately returned to reality. Almost simultaneously, a layer of golden radiance bloomed before his eyes. Within the mist, a blurred, indistinct figure could be seen, speaking in a voice that was unmistakably not his own: "Understood."
It had been processed by something — given a quality of gravity and mystery that was just barely convincing enough to fool those at low-to-mid Sequences. Not impressive, but serviceable.
So. Who should I Bless?
The first name that came to mind was Vivienne. She was deeply trusted by Bernadette — and her loyalty to Bernadette was absolute.
If Vivienne recited the three-segment prayer, she would do so without hesitation. A single clear directive would be all it took — and given her network in Backlund, her ability to facilitate deals and cooperation would be far easier to leverage than anything Vincent could manage on his own.
Yes — you're the one. Vivienne — my first Blessed believer. My first worker!
As for the second Blessing — who should receive that?
The First and Second Officers aboard the Dawn?
Vincent immediately dismissed the idea. Based on Bernadette's descriptions and his brief interactions with Second Officer Stephen, the crew of the Dawn seemed to be, to varying degrees, somewhat... averse to social contact.
Socially withdrawn was perhaps too strong a term, but they clearly weren't the type who naturally enjoyed dealing with others. Making them his workers would be doing them a disservice — forcing it would only lead to half the effort producing a fraction of the results.
But beyond them, he really didn't know many people.
Xio? Their relationship hadn't reached that point yet, and she certainly wouldn't be naïve enough to recite a deity's Honorific Name for some unknown — and possibly malevolent — existence. Finding random desperate individuals off the street introduced too many unknowns.
In that case...
Vincent felt a sudden flash of inspiration.
Our perpetually broke Fool, Klein Moretti.
Whether as the organiser of the Tarot Club or as the investment target of the Black Night Sect and numerous other factions, Klein naturally possessed countless opportunities to facilitate exchanges and cooperation between others. The sheer number of Tarot Club meetings in the original story, all those deals and collaborations — and in the mid-to-late arc, the high-level joint operations he brokered single-handedly — the grey Astral Crystals that could generate made Vincent's mouth water just thinking about it.
The only problem was that Klein, given his nature, would never simply recite someone else's Honorific Name. But — I can forge a Roselle journal entry.
Through Roselle's words, I can tell Klein that this "Ruler of the Realm of Entropy" is a benevolent existence — that Emperor Roselle himself was once a believer or a favoured one, who received considerable aid. I could even claim that half of Roselle's achievements owed themselves to this great existence's guidance!
After enough of that kind of convincing, even if Klein doesn't recite the Name right away, perhaps when he's in real danger or trouble, he'll be desperate enough to try.
Now we're even: I'm your pawn, you're my worker. We both have a bright future ahead of us!
All that remained was to wait for next week's Tarot Club meeting.
Having settled on candidates for both Blessing slots, Vincent returned to reality.
The next order of business: using the three-segment Honorific Name just established to complete a sacrifice ritual — praying to himself, answering himself, and then testing whether he could bring objects from reality into the room.
He went to the desk, pulled out a book, and turned to the section on sacrifice rituals:
"First, prepare the altar. Whichever deity or relatively normal hidden presence you wish to make an offering to — carve or draw the corresponding symbolic sigil, and use herbs and minerals belonging to their domain. These may be pre-prepared as sacred oil, holy ointment, or incense."
"Second, determine whether offerings to the corresponding presence require a specific time. Then arrange the ritual according to the Binary Method, and recite the full Honorific Name and prayer in Giant, Elvish, Draconic, or Ancient Hermes — ensuring the inclusion of several key terms: 'Petition,' 'Gaze,' 'Offering,' 'Realm,' 'Gate,' 'Open.'"
"Finally, use materials imbued with spirituality to combine with the natural force resonance created by the incantation, building an initial channel — a passage connecting to the 'Realm Gate' of the corresponding presence — and complete the sacrifice."
Vincent frowned slightly. Everything else was manageable — but the symbolic sigil. Where was he supposed to find that?
He vaguely recalled that Klein's sigil had been carved into the back of the Fool's throne — but no such throne existed here in the Land of Chaos.
The thought had barely finished forming before the image of the ancient Scale flashed through his mind. Given that everything he had obtained thus far was connected to it — was it possible to create a symbolic sigil modelled after the Scale itself?
Vincent closed his eyes and swiftly conjured the image of the ancient Scale in his mind, working from it as a base to outline a design, simplifying it gradually into a clean sigil, then refining it bit by bit.
Half an hour later, the Scale-derived sigil he had drawn within his mind blazed with pale golden radiance — and his spiritual intuition sent a clear premonition: the sigil was complete.
So with this, I can now sacrifice to myself?
He took out a small pinch of spirituality-infused powder, then produced two candles. Following the book's instructions, he placed one atop the drawn sigil and one in the centre.
Then, using spirituality to light both candles, he intoned in Ancient Hermes:
"Ruler of the Realm of Entropy, Arbiter of the Unbalanced Scale, Shadow Between Order and Rules.
Your faithful servant petitions your Gaze. Petitions you to accept this Offering. Petitions you to open the Gate of your Realm."
At once the spiritual walls of the room reverberated with Vincent's voice. The air stirred — a howling wind rising from nothing — and the natural forces resonated with a tremor.
Vincent took a half-step back and scattered the pinch of spiritual powder into the wind.
To be continued…
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