Mithras Ritual

Iver took Sherlock to the St. Genevieve Chapel.

Yes, the place he planned to take Sherlock to complete the ceremony was the underground of the Candlemakers' Chapel.

Although it might seem a bit inappropriate, and somewhat offensive... based on Iver's understanding of prayer, the candle keeper shouldn't care about this.

Because there is no Mithra god, and the process of completing the ritual belongs to the realm of dedication.

Rounding up or down is also a way of worshipping the candle master.

"... Did we really have to come here?"

But Sherlock was clearly a little guilty.

Or rather, Sherlock, who grew up in Avalon, did not truly understand what a "fictitious god" meant. In his mind, Mithra was still regarded as a real god, or perhaps a heretical god.

"Because we are in the city."

Iver explained, leading Sherlock down the dimly lit staircase into the depths of the cellar. "Normally, this ritual requires a natural cave. Moreover, the location of the cave must be strictly chosen, 'facing Aries from Taurus,' and it is called the ' Land of Coronation.'"

"This seems like a lot of trouble," Sherlock commented.

"It's very troublesome. So I need to use Ritual Site to create a usable ' Land of Coronation '... That requires a sufficiently sacred place, one that is as isolated as possible from the influence of the Path of Love, but at the same time, it cannot be exposed to light, must be underground, and has enough space."

Iver turned around and shrugged. "Then tell me, where else can I go besides here?"

This is the church's wine cellar used to store wine for religious ceremonies.

Iver had already informed Bishop Mathers last night... but Bishop Mathers's reaction was very strange.

The bishop said, "Anyway, you have the key. You can go whenever you want."

... Strange, where did I get such a big face? Although Iver was a little puzzled, he decided to complete Sherlock's ritual first.

"I know you're right."

Sherlock gently nudged Iver, who was blocking his way. "But don't suddenly block the stairs. I almost bumped into you."

"Your little body can't bump into me."

Iver scoffed.

Hey, if you put it that way, then I'll give it a try—

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but chose to remain silent. After all, it was Iver who was busy taking care of him right now, and it wouldn't be polite for him to argue with Iver at this time.

Although he didn't actually know whether the ceremony would succeed, Iver's attitude alone was enough to move him.

As they continued downwards, Iver began explaining the mystical principles of the ritual to Sherlock.

Are you familiar with precession?

"I vaguely remember."

"Simply put, every year when the sun returns to the time a year ago, it is a tiny distance away from that point. So the winter solstice point moves westward every year... although the magnitude is very small, it does exist."

"The sun returns to its true origin every 26,000 years, hence 26,000 years is called a big year in astrology. And for this reason, about one-twelfth of that time, or about 2,160 years, a new constellation will appear at the vernal equinox."

"Human history records only one great year. And before this great year began was the age of the elves."

"We are currently in the Pisces era, which began approximately two thousand years ago. Before the Pisces era was Aries, and before Aries was Taurus. Some astrologers believe that human history began with 'Leo,' while others believe it began with 'Libra.' I personally lean towards the latter—because the sun of this generation was hatched by Libra, and Libra is a metaphor for Hourglass."

As he spoke, Iver descended to the bottom of the cellar.

He snapped his fingers, and the cellar suddenly lit up—

Twelve astrological symbols of different colors lit up one by one from the walls of the cellar, slightly illuminating the dim "cave".

These were symbols that Iver had drawn on the wall using the twelve metal gems representing the twelve houses and the twelve Plant Essential Oil representing the twelve zodiac signs. He then infused them with his magic, enchanting them.

To obtain these essential oils, he deliberately woke up the King, who was probably still awake, and took the freshest and best quality from him.

A black bull was also lit up at the same time.

A golden light shone from its body—the runes illuminated by the magic infused by Iver. On the black bull's body were inscribed verses praising the sun in seven different languages. Sherlock recognized only six; the remaining one seemed to be Ancient Horus Language.

"... You also understand Horus?" Sherlock, somewhat surprised.

"I asked my tutor, Bard, to help with the translation."

Iver answered honestly, "I can still copy it."

... Okay, that's one way to do it.

but...

"Does it really have to be this rushed?"

When the moment came, Sherlock hesitated again. "Have we troubled too many people?"

"I'm the one who's caused you the most trouble." Iver turned around and glared at him.

"I know."

"If you know the answer, just shut up. Don't get depressed."

Iver said irritably.

After a while, Iver sighed and explained, "This ritual has an implicit requirement: 'I must do it immediately.' When you hear about this ritual, you must do it immediately. Because Aries is the vanguard, the warrior, the youth, the fearless, and the survivor... so the success rate will be much higher. Because 'fearless vanguards are more likely to survive,' astrology with Aries as its ruling sign has this requirement; the more reckless you are, the luckier you will be."

"How can someone who hesitates and doubts become the sun, become Mithra?"

... I didn't, I'm not.

Sherlock muttered to himself.

But he stared intently at the scene before him, awestruck by the mysterious ritual.

Although Sherlock knew nothing about rituals, sacrifices, or astrology, he could intuitively sense the sacredness within them.

"Go and strip naked and kneel on that shelf. There's a small space underneath that I made especially for you. You can curl up in there like a baby... Remember to curl up in a ball, but don't cover your head with your hands. Don't be wary of what's behind you."

Iver instructed, "In a moment I will bring the cow over and have it rest on top of you. Then I will kill the cow, and you will pray below. When the blood flows on you and the cow dies, the ritual will be complete."

"... Won't I get trampled to death by the cow? Or what if the cow knocks me unconscious when it falls down?"

"That's certainly possible."

Iver said coldly, "That means the ritual failed. But if you are fearless enough, the ritual should succeed."

"Then what should I pray for?" Sherlock asked after a moment of silence.

"Whatever," Iver replied, "Because the crucial prayer is with me, so you can do whatever you want. You can pray for whatever you want, chat with whichever Pillar God you want, it doesn't matter if you pray for a wife."

That's outrageous.

Sherlock shook his head repeatedly.

But he still decided to trust Iver.

So he obeyed Iver and knelt down in the small hole.

Just as Iver said, this was a "womb" Iver built for him. It was just the right size for him to curl up inside, neither too cramped nor too empty.

The wooden planks above and below rested precisely on his head and toes, while the sides forced him to fold his arms over his chest. Everything was just right.

... Perhaps, Iver really is a professional.

Such a thought popped into Sherlock's mind.

Soon after, he felt everything go black.

It wasn't that he had fainted, but rather that the bull was led over and blocked the light from the glowing symbol on the wall.

"What's your birthday, Sherlock?"

"January 6th—and you're only asking me my birthday now?"

"That's Capricorn. It's alright, it's not too late to ask now, I'll just mention it briefly."

Iver said with a smile, "Prepare for the ceremony, young man."