The Ritual

Free? Free things cost the most!

Julius silently mumbled and decided that he would not purchase any additional services whatsoever. He would firmly refuse them all.

If you are really that capable, try divining that I transmigrated here!

With this in mind, Julius followed behind the woman whose face was painted red and yellow, stooping low to enter the dimly lit tent.

The interior was shrouded in darkness, faintly illuminated by a few beams of light seeping in through the gaps. A table covered with paper cards could be seen in the low illumination.

The woman in the sharp, pointy hat seemed completely unaffected by the eerie atmosphere. Her long black dress glided across the floor as if moving over water. She walked around the table, took a seat opposite him, and lit a candle.

The flickering yellow light cast shifting shadows across the tent, deepening the air of mystery.

Julius sat quietly, his gaze sweeping over the oracle cards on the table, spotting familiar ones such as

Before he could fully examine the cards, the fortune-teller reached out, gathering them into a deck before sliding them toward him.

"Shuffle the cards first and cut the deck," she instructed in a muted voice.

"Me? Shuffle?" Julius asked reflexively.

The paint on the fortune-teller's face twisted into a subtle smile. "Of course. Everyone's fate can only be unraveled by themselves. I merely interpret it."

Julius hesitated for a moment before narrowing his eyes. "This reading doesn't require additional fees, right?"

As an internet-era cynic, I've seen too many scams like this!

The fortune-teller blinked in mild surprise before responding, "It's free."

Relieved, Julius subtly adjusted the position of the dagger hidden within his coat. He then reached forward, shuffling and cutting the deck with practiced ease.

"It's done," he said, placing the shuffled oracle cards back onto the table.

The fortune-teller clasped the deck, gazing at it thoughtfully before speaking. "I forgot to ask—what is it that you seek?"

Julius, recalling the brief research he had done on oracle readings, answered without hesitation, "Past, present, and future."

The fortune-teller nodded, then smiled faintly. "Then reshuffle the deck. Only when you understand what you seek can the cards reveal the truth."

Were you messing with me before? Julius twitched slightly but took a deep breath, reshuffling and cutting the deck once more.

"This time, no issues, right?" he asked, placing the deck back onto the table.

"No issues." The fortune-teller drew a card, placing it on the left. "This represents your past."

A second card was placed at the center. "This represents your present."

Then, the third card was placed on the right. "This represents your future."

Julius glanced down.

The last card revealed an imposing throne. A faceless king sat upon it, his presence suffused with an overwhelming aura of authority. Upon the throne's armrest gleamed a symbol—Z.

His pupils contracted sharply.

"Impossible… This card… It refers to Zarthos, the Forgotten God. Is this merely a coincidence?!"

His fingers twitched slightly, and an inexplicable unease crawled up his spine.

Suddenly, Julius felt a sharp headache, as if fragments of the original Julius's memories were flooding into his mind. These memories were of rituals performed by the true Julius—rituals he himself had never conducted. Yet, they echoed vividly in his thoughts, as though they were his own.

Julius took a deep breath, stepping into the center of the dimly lit room. He took a moment to compose himself before stepping forward in a slow, deliberate motion, tracing the shape of a square in a counterclockwise direction.

With each step, he chanted in a low whisper:

"The immortal Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."

"The Sky Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."

"The Exalted Thearch of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."

"The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."

Returning to his original position, Julius shut his eyes, waiting in silence. A mix of anticipation, unease, hope, and fear churned in his mind.

Will it work? Will something happen?

Then, the air around him shifted.

The surroundings grew dense and heavy, thick with an inexplicable presence.

A whisper brushed against his ears—soft yet maddening, shifting between tones of reverence, hysteria, allure, and insanity.

He didn't understand the words, but they compelled him to listen.

Pain lanced through his skull, as if an iron drill had been driven into his mind.

Julius clenched his fists. His head felt as if it would shatter, his thoughts melting into swirling colors.

Just as he felt his consciousness slipping, the whispers shifted.

A new voice.

A prayer.

"Let those who seek the light of the Forgotten King… call upon his name—Zarthos."

His eyes snapped open.

The mark on the back of his hand burned.

Unthinking, his fingers curled around it.

In the next instant, his surroundings shifted.

A vast expanse of gray mist stretched endlessly in all directions.

Julius stood upon an impossibly high throne, its colossal structure shrouded in eerie silence. Towering, ominous statues loomed behind him, their hollow eyes gazing into the abyss.

Before him, two stars pulsed with radiant light.

One of them felt… familiar.

Recognition flickered in his mind—Caleb.

The boy's prayers filled the void, overflowing with gratitude.

"Thank you… for purging my curse."

Julius scoffed inwardly.

"I didn't purge anything. Estrea was simply freed from your body."

Extending a hand, he reached toward Caleb's star.

The moment his fingertips brushed against it—

He accidentally touched two adjacent stars.

A sudden pull.

A blinding burst of crimson.

Oksenhaim

In the noble district of Oksenhaim, within an extravagant mansion, Adrienne Hall sat before an ornate dresser. An ancient bronze mirror lay before her, its surface marred by hairline cracks.

Taking a deep breath, she whispered,

"Mirror, mirror, awaken…"

"In the name of the Hall family, I command you to awaken!"

The High Seas

On the turbulent waters of the Atheron Sea, a three-masted ship cut through the storm.

Alaric Wolfe stood on deck, his form steady against the raging winds.

Draped in a robe embroidered with lightning sigils, he examined a peculiar glass bottle in his hands. Inside, liquid churned, shifting between frost, mist, and crackling static.

"Still missing the blood of a Ghost Shark…" he murmured.

At that moment—

A burst of crimson light ignited between his palm and the bottle.

As the blinding glow receded, Adrienne and Alaric found themselves standing on an immense throne shrouded in mist.

The towering statues cast eerie shadows, their presence oppressive.

A man stood before them, his features obscured.

Julius.

Adrienne and Alaric instinctively tensed.

Then, simultaneously, they spoke.

"Who… are you?"