Chapter 5:Dorian Gray

Staring at the fanatical expression on the Shaman King Klarman's face, Ael was slightly surprised. Was this all the influence that a Pillar of the Old Days had managed to establish within Earth's domain?

Besides Klarman, there wasn't even a single angel—something that truly caught him off guard.

However, when he thought about Russell and Mr. Door, those two infamous fools, he quickly understood.

For the Fallen Mother Goddess, with two trump cards like them in hand, why waste time and effort building a faction?

No matter how many angels or demigods she cultivated, could they even compare to Mr. Door and Russell? In battles between True Gods and the Old Ones, what use were mere small fry, no matter their numbers?

Seeing Klarman fall silent, Ael chose not to press further. Four demigods would have to suffice—they were still a fighting force, after all. At the very least, it was better than the early days of the Tarot Club.

Once the Shaman King—who had lived for over a thousand years—stood up, Ael raised his right hand. In an instant, starlight flickered, condensing into a thin sheet of shimmering, celestial paper.

Handing the star-forged letter to Klarman, Ael spoke in a calm, detached tone:

"Mobilize all the forces you can. Inform the two other cults' demigods in the Southern Continent and gather everything I've listed as soon as possible."

"I heed your command, O Great Child of the Red Moon."

Accepting the brilliant star-forged letter with both hands, Klarman lowered his gaze to read its contents.

"Extraordinary characteristics of Spectator, Clown, Lucky, and Craftsman—one of each? What would His Highness want with these low-sequence traits?"

As a demigod who had lived long and possessed extensive occult knowledge, Klarman found it difficult to understand why an angel would need such things.

Apart from the Craftsman's trait, which had some utility, the others seemed practically worthless.

Although he didn't understand the reasoning, Klarman knew one thing: as a follower of the Primal Moon, he was duty-bound to fulfill the command of the divine child.

"Looks like I'll need to contact Palaka and Dean. I wonder if they've received a divine revelation yet… Hmm, probably not, or else they would have arrived before me."

Palaka was the name of the classical alchemist—a native of the Southern Continent who, after receiving divine favor at a low sequence, had become a demigod in just ten years.

Dean, on the other hand, was known as the Coffin Bearer—a former archbishop of the Earth Mother's Church from Feneport who had defected.

Rumors suggested that he had been accused of distorting and blaspheming the goddess's teachings, leading to his trial before the Matriarch.

However, no one had expected that, during the trial, he would kill the presiding judge, break through the guards, and escape the church.

After fleeing to the Southern Continent, he converted to the Primal Moon, receiving divine favor and ascending to Sequence 3 as a demigod three years ago.

"Child of the Red Moon? Whatever… call me what you like."

Ael furrowed his brows but ultimately accepted the title without protest. Then, turning back to Klarman, he asked:

"How do I contact you? Or rather, how do you contact me?"

"Your Highness, as an angel, all we need to do is recite your honorific name, and you will be able to respond to our prayers and offerings anywhere in the world."

"Honorific name?" Ael raised an eyebrow. He had originally thought he'd have to use a messenger like Klein did—he'd nearly forgotten about this method.

"Yes, Your Highness. May I know your honorific name?"

Standing respectfully to the side, Klarman asked with reverence.

"The One and Only Favored of the Red Moon,

Lord of Roaming Through Time and Space,

Watcher of the Mirror World's Gaze,

The Blank that Never Existed in the Past,

The Great Savita Hermes."

Though he could use a true god-level threefold honorific title through the Mirror World essence, Ael instead improvised a name tied to the Fallen Mother Goddess.

As for "Savita Hermes," it was derived from two deities from his past life's myths, both known as gods of speed.

He intended to shape "Savita" into the identity of the Child of the Red Moon and the leader of the Primal Moon faction—an alias that would serve as a mask, an anchor, and a scapegoat.

"What does Savita have to do with me, Ael?"

"Praise be to You, Great Divine Child.

You are the One and Only Favored of the Red Moon,

Lord of Roaming Through Time and Space.

You are the Watcher of the Mirror World's Gaze,

The Blank that Never Existed in the Past.

I sing of You, Great Savita Hermes.

I beseech Your gaze, I pray for the opening of Your domain."

As Klarman clasped his hands in prayer, reverently chanting the honorific name Ael had just invented, Ael suddenly saw a brilliant point of light appear before him.

His spirituality stirred as he heard an ancient, pious voice emanating from within the dazzling star. The voice was pleading for him to open a door—a door that led to him.

"That's enough. Leave now."

After confirming that the honorific name worked and marking Klarman's prayer as a beacon, Ael stopped him from continuing.

Watching as Klarman transformed into moonlight and vanished through the window, Ael closed his eyes, sensing something.

Thirty seconds later, he opened them again, a faint smile forming on his handsome face. With a light chuckle, he murmured:

"I've found you."

In an instant, his entire body crumbled, distorted, and was engulfed in dazzling starlight. He became ethereal, like a flickering Star Gate.

At that moment, Ael no longer resembled a corporeal being but rather an embodiment of wandering, starry paths, and space itself—a conceptual entity.

As an angel, a Planeswalker, this was a deeper application of the Door pathway's authority. Unlike other pathways, angels of Door could transform into symbols and fully integrate with the Astral Realm, allowing them to traverse great distances instantaneously.

Ruen Kingdom – Pritz Harbor, Fishermen's Association, Third Floor

Inside a dimly lit office, Dorian Gray, clad in a formal suit and brown tie, set down his pen. He rubbed his temples as exhaustion weighed on him.

Massaging his throbbing forehead, he slowly adjusted his mental state. As a member of the Abraham family, he bore the curse of the Full Moon Murmurs.

Last night, that ridiculously large and illusory red moon had seemingly engulfed the entire sky, intensifying his curse to an unbearable degree. Even now, past noon, the lingering headache and body spasms remained.

If not for certain specially formulated medicines, he might have died last night—either becoming a Sealed Artifact or a deranged, uncontrollable monster.

"Sigh… It keeps getting worse each time. I barely survived this one. If next month's curse is just as strong, I won't make it."

"I wonder how the others in the family are doing… Lobero and the elders are already frail, their health failing. Can they endure this?"

Pushing himself off the high-backed chair, Dorian walked to the window, gazing at the overcast sky.

The air was thick with the prelude to a coming storm.