Summoning

Perhaps every being who had mastered the ability to fly had tried to challenge the heavens.

Orsaga did not know how high the sky was.

But that did not stop him from trying.

The result was straightforward: he failed.

No matter what he did, he could not fly to the top. The higher he flew, the greater the pressure became, as if a hand were trying to drag him back to the ground.

If he used magic power as propulsion, his flying speed could even reach supersonic levels. The airflow generated by his flight alone could slice through flesh. Yet after flying straight upward at maximum speed for over ten minutes, he had already reached his limit. The regions above were no longer somewhere he could go.

So he began practicing all kinds of aerial maneuvers in the sky, using every creature he encountered as a test subject for his results.

Although there seemed to be fewer creatures in the sky than on the ground, they were far more mobile. With a glance upward, he could see all kinds of creatures flying and weaving through the air. In reality, the density of living creatures was even greater than on the ground.

With enough targets, he began using more spells and techniques.

Everything required for aerial combat was becoming familiar to him at an astonishing speed.

When night fell once more, Orsaga, bearing several new wounds, slowly descended onto the peak of a mountain.

Looking down upon everything in the forest, his vision, strengthened once again after advancing to a Lower Demon, allowed him to see ants hundreds of meters away and observe the ecosystem of Howling Forest in greater detail.

By now, his strength was utterly incomparable to when he had first entered this place. He no longer needed to worry about all sorts of nonsense. His power stood at the pinnacle of this place, at the very top of the food chain.

No matter whom he encountered, he was confident he could determine who was stronger!

However, he was still a little short of achieving his ultimate goal in Howling Forest.

Whether he achieved that goal would determine whether he ate meat or drank thin gruel in other regions of the Bottomless Abyss.

The strength of a Lower Demon alone could not give him any sense of security.

At most, it meant he had barely stopped being walking reserve rations.

The Abyssal Contract Talent Ability within him began operating for the first time.

An indescribable force pulled his consciousness into a region shrouded in halos of light. Countless rays of light, varying in intensity, moved and flickered chaotically like sparks.

Some were strong, while others were weak.

These Light Dots represented Summoning Rituals being performed by outside beings attempting to summon Abyss Creatures. The intensity of each Light Dot represented the amount of sacrifice the summoner had offered.

This place was divided according to strength, and Abyss Creatures of different ranks occupied different regions.

In the region where Orsaga was located, everyone existed only as a strand of consciousness. Though he could not see the true forms of the other demons, Orsaga could still roughly sense their strength.

A very small number were stronger than him, while most were weaker.

There were countless Light Dots. At every moment, innumerable ones lit up and innumerable ones went dark, like twinkling stars in the sky.

Orsaga needed to first select one suitable for himself.

They came in two colors. White represented ordinary summons: the summoner offered a sacrifice, and the demon was responsible for fulfilling the summoner's request. Red represented a high-ranking demon, at least an Upper Demon, using the Talent Ability Demon Summon to summon lower-ranking demons into the outside world. In most cases, this meant the other party was carrying out a cross-planar invasion and had already reached an extremely intense stage of battle. Otherwise, no demon would willingly share the spoils.

Traveling through a red Light Dot generally required obeying the orders of an Upper Demon to a certain degree and handing over a portion of the souls one obtained.

It did not sound very worthwhile!

But since matters had already reached the point of openly launching a war, it meant the prerequisites for invasion had been handled for most demons. They only needed to follow the main force and kill their way through. If they won, they would have everything. If they lost, they would die on the spot. No need to think too hard about it!

This actually suited the mindset of many demons.

If they lacked the ability to strike out on their own, doing some grunt work was not bad either!

Thus, even though they had to work for others and have their wages skimmed, quite a few demons still chose to enter the red Light Dots.

For the time being, Orsaga had no interest in becoming a hired hand, so he ignored all the red Light Dots and turned his attention to the white-light region.

He did not immediately choose the brightest Light Dots. Instead, he wanted one that was neither too strong nor too weak.

After spending some time choosing one, Orsaga relied on his greater strength to force aside the thoughts of several competitors nearby and charged directly into that Light Dot.

At that moment.

Orsaga's body in the Bottomless Abyss was also drawn inside by the power of the Bottomless Abyss.

Within a hazy mist of light, Orsaga heard an Abyssal prayer. It was the being in the Outer Plane praising the Abyss.

He understood that if he moved forward just a little more, he would reach the Outer Plane.

But he did not choose to do so. Instead, he remained directly in the middle of the transmission passage.

With a thought from Orsaga, Boundary Projection—Simulacrum, the ability he had specifically evolved when advancing to a Lower Demon, immediately took effect.

An insignificant portion of Orsaga's soul was torn away, taking the form of his true body and appearing on the other side of the Summoning Ritual.

Ten seconds...

That was how long the transmission passage created by the Summoning Ritual could continue to exist.

If he did not reach the world on the other side before that time passed, Orsaga would lose the other party's planar coordinates and be forcibly sent back to the Bottomless Abyss by the power of the ritual.

In the pitch-black night, within an open stretch of land.

A massive bonfire illuminated the desolate buildings.

This had once been a famous prison in the kingdom. It had been abandoned after the prison was relocated, and after years without maintenance, the grounds exuded an air of deathly stillness everywhere.

Beast blood and human blood had been mixed with potions to make paint, then inscribed into Magic Runes and embedded into the ground.

In the end, countless incantations formed a Magic Circle, with a Hexagram inside and a circle outside. It covered nearly half a football field. At its center was a pile of corpses made up of dozens of human bodies. They were death-row prisoners who had just been brought out from the Royal Capital's death prison, each one deliberately kept strong and healthy.

Their causes of death were all wounds to the neck, and their blood had not yet fully drained. Clearly, they had died only recently.

Dozens of people dressed in black robes that concealed their entire bodies stood around the Magic Circle. Led by a bald middle-aged man, they continuously chanted spells.

Not far away, a large group was watching. There were nearly two hundred of them, sitting upright on tall, well-bred warhorses. They wore carefully maintained full-body light armor and carried expensive knightly swords at their waists. Whether by their attire or bearing, they were clearly an elite Knight Troop.

"Your Highness, I think these Cultists have completely lost their minds. We would be better off asking the Duchy of Lite for help with the war."

Baron Duke Albert watched the Cultists in the distant Summoning Ritual chanting incomprehensible spells and spoke quietly to the Crown Prince beside him.

Hearing the words of his trusted subordinate, Jem Woz looked at the Magic Circle, which still showed no reaction, and felt somewhat hesitant.

But after some deliberation, he still shook his head. Just as Baron Duke lowered his head in disappointment, Prince Jem said, "Give them another twenty minutes. If there is still no result, eliminate all of them and report to the church that we wiped out a group of Cultists, including the Warlock Salter, whom they have been hunting."

Hearing Jem Woz's words, Duke felt greatly reassured. As both a noble and a knight, he had never held any goodwill toward these Cultists who played at mysticism. The only reason he had tolerated them conducting such a blasphemous ritual before him was out of consideration for the man he served. He had long wanted to chop off their heads.

Now that he had Jem Woz's order, Duke, who had never believed Salter could summon some powerful otherworldly monster to reverse the battle situation, began lightly moving his body. Once the time was up, he would mount his horse and lead the Knight Troop in slaughtering every last Cultist in the distance.

Salter in the distance seemed to sense the intense malice behind him, and cold sweat involuntarily seeped from his forehead.

Damn it, how could it fail?!

More than ten years ago, when he had still been an ordinary commoner, he found a Magic Tome beside a corpse in an abandoned cave in his hometown. Its origins dated back at least several centuries, to the era of the church's great purge. It recorded all kinds of forbidden knowledge sealed away by the church. Some was powerful, some bizarre, but all of it gripped him like the deadliest poison, making him lose himself in it day and night.

Though he had already passed the best age for learning magic, he possessed exceptional magical talent. Through perseverance and determination, he spent immeasurable effort painstakingly studying the knowledge within and eventually became a powerful Warlock.

Although he had later failed to clean up some traces and allowed church personnel to catch onto him, resulting in his name remaining on the church's bounty list for years, he had still lived quite freely by relying on his own strength.

Not long ago, he heard that the Duchy of Maldon and the Duchy of Yar had gone to war, and the fighting was extremely fierce.

So he brought along the cult he had established over the years, intending to pick up some corpses for use in his research.

But matters took a turn after he unexpectedly encountered the Crown Prince of the Duchy of Maldon. Salter learned by chance that the other party was actually trying to use mystical methods to reverse the Duchy of Maldon's losing situation, and that gave him an idea!

Mystical methods?

Aren't I one of those?

A way to reverse a losing situation?

As it happened, the Magic Tome really did contain one. The only problem was that the casting process was extremely complicated and required many exceedingly precious materials. Even after preparing for years, he had not gathered them all.

Why not take this opportunity to have him collect the materials for me, then cast the spell to help him reverse the situation? After that, I can change my identity and become a noble!

Once this thought appeared, it could no longer be suppressed!

The next chapter begins in another world. After all, a demon who does not invade does not fit his identity!