A Form of Gin Stick Technique

Iver sprinkled large amounts of Black Pearl Powder as if it were free, while chanting loudly:

"I beseech the God of Constant Self, the Sacred Number, the God of Death and Rebirth, the God of Long-lasting Ignorance!"

"—O Constant Self moon! Watch over this sun that has already set before it has risen!"

"I beseech you to reveal the starry sky of four thousand years ago here—"

The next moment, moonlight spilled like mercury, flowing into the basement, which had no windows and no place where light could seep in.

This is a place isolated from the gaze of the Constant Self.

Now, at Iver's call, the power of the Path of Love surged in. The excess Path Power overflowed in the now harmonious air, and stars lit up around the twelve runes one after another.

Looking up, you can see the bright moon hanging high in the sky, as well as countless stars.

The dimly lit basement instantly transformed into a night sky. The sealed stone walls seemed to become transparent.

Even looking directly at the sky from outside, the stars aren't that bright. Perhaps the stars would be very bright in a small place like Mubay County, but the nights on Glass Island are much more bustling, which makes the stars in the sky appear dimmer.

The pitch-black shadows enveloped Sherlock like a cocoon, while the bright moonlight bathed Iver in its light.

His whole body shone with a silvery-white light, like the moon walking on the ground.

Iver drew an unremarkable dagger and climbed the steps beside him. He mounted the black bull.

The bull should have been startled, or at least stamped its hooves in unease.

But at this moment, its pupils shone with a dark golden, majestic light, as if something resided within them.

Iver solemnly chanted. "I am the father of the sun, I am the Constant Self shadow."

"I am the King of the stars, the end of Mithra and the birth of Mithra. I command the death of the bull."

As he spoke, he cut open his left palm with a dagger and drew the symbol of Aries. The symbol resembled a slightly curled "V".

Iver raised his left hand, letting his blood drip onto the bull's eyebrows.

The blood, like a blazing fire, ignited a crimson flame after dripping onto the bull's head.

"I am the Aries who forges ahead, I am the sun that has passed and then passed again, I am the Child of the Moon, I am the elder brother of all the stars!"

Iver's second verse. "I carry out the death of the bull—"

The ceremony, which should have been performed by a second person, was completed by Iver alone.

After saying this, he fiercely plunged the iron weapon in his hand into the bull's forehead.

This is not the bull's weak point, but rather its hardest part.

The crimson flames spread upwards along the iron dagger, while golden sparks flew out fiercely. It was as if the dagger wasn't piercing a bull's head, but rather like welding.

After the dagger pierced the bull, it let out a deafening moo.

It struggled violently, stamping its feet frantically in place. But no matter what it did, it couldn't break free, as if an invisible wall was blocking its way.

"The Son of Makara, raise your head like a young crow!"

Astride the struggling bull, Iver sang. "Drink the blood of this bull, as the parched earth thirsts for the blood of abundance—this is the blood of the sun!"

"The Old Days is dead, the new day has come! I command all grains to be born!"

As the bull struggled, its blood splattered everywhere.

The blood, sparkling with golden fire and steaming hot, fell to the ground, and clusters of grains and flowers grew at a visible speed.

But at that very moment, Iver suddenly paused.

Because at that moment, a strange vision appeared before his eyes—

It was as if he had only read half of the previous Grimoire, and now it had broken some kind of seal.

—The illusion that had abruptly ended suddenly resumed at this moment.

The Three-Legged Crow charged towards him, the golden sun shining through its body.

Iver was burning with rage.

He subconsciously turned around and saw that the golden light burning on the Three-Legged Crow had completely dissipated.

It was like burnt-out fuel, its entire body as black as charcoal.

The Three-Legged Crow flew away into the distance, but the sky did not darken as a result.

Only then did Iver realize—

So I am the sun! The Three-Legged Crow passed on the Sunfire to me! It was the Holy Fire of the Dawn Angel, and at this moment I was perfectly in sync with the ritual, transforming into the new sun that killed the Old Days.

He saw the numerous golden characters on the bull's body spread towards him along the flames and the dagger. The characters seemed to swim across Iver's body like living things, shimmering with golden light.

They drifted away, then faded away one by one inexplicably, until finally only the Horus script that Iver couldn't understand remained.

They remained on Iver's chest, forming a sun-like ring. Then they gradually faded away, leaving behind a faint trace.

Before Iver could investigate what changes had occurred to his body, he only felt that the wound on the palm of his left hand had suddenly healed.

At this moment, the sun had already risen a little above the horizon.

The bull died at sunrise—it died standing. The places where words were written crumbled, as if they were not words, but wounds.

The deep, letter-shaped knife wound bled profusely, and the blood dripped onto the black cocoon, seeping in little by little.

Iver quickly completed the final step of the ritual. "The bull is dead, the covenant is complete—reverse the heavens, newborn Mithra!"

As the black cocoon slowly shattered, the many stars within the Ritual Site began to rotate slowly in sync.

When the cocoon completely broke, the celestial phenomena had already changed.

The sun's position officially shifted from Taurus to Aries. The bull was dead, and Mithra was born—the newborn sun god of Aries.

Then, the stars gradually dimmed.

Iver climbed down from the bull, spun gently around, and then bowed. This was the simplest of dances, a respectful farewell to Constant Self, who loved this ritualistic form of dance.

The moonlight slipped away bit by bit, like a lunar eclipse. Only when the moonlight was completely swallowed by the shadows did Iver breathe a sigh of relief.

He pushed over the motionless, stiff bull carcass and reached out to pull Sherlock out of the pit.

Seeing Sherlock complete the ceremony and immediately want to retrieve his clothes, Iver couldn't help but laugh.

—Just as he had predicted.

"... What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sherlock looked at Iver with some suspicion.

He originally wanted to look in the mirror... but as soon as he opened his mouth, he realized something was wrong.

Sherlock's voice became childish, as if it had not yet changed.

He was immediately startled and looked down to check. He discovered that his hands had shrunk considerably.

"A thirteen-year-old boy, this is the rising sun. Returning to the age you were when you first entered middle school... it's like being young again."

Iver said with a smile, "Aren't you happy about something this good?"

"... It's fake, right?"

Sherlock quickly calmed down.

He clenched his fist and replied, "I don't feel like my physical strength has declined—that's why I didn't notice it immediately."

"That's right, it's just a change in appearance."

Seeing that Sherlock wasn't fooled, Iver clicked his tongue.

He then explained, "You are currently a new member, so your appearance will revert to that of a teenager, which symbolizes vitality and courage."

"When you gain wisdom and become Mitra Worshiper, you will return to your former youth in your twenties, which is the Fourth Level; and if you gain recognition for your dedication, you will become Mitra Messenger, and then, as you get older, become a strong man in his thirties, which is the Fifth Level; and if you are fortunate enough to gain the characteristic of authority, you will become Father of Mitra in his forties, a middle-aged man... and that is the Sixth Level."

...Um?

Sherlock paused for a moment.

He vaguely sensed from Iver's tone that this road seemed to be far from over.

However, the Sixth Level is currently an unattainable realm. Only the Eternal Pope has reached the Sixth Level.

But...

If, as Iver previously stated, the Mitraism possesses five powers: balance, wisdom, strength, dedication, and adaptation, then logically, there should also be an older form corresponding to the other. If his youthful form represents balance or adaptation, then logically, there should also be an older form to correspond to the other.

Furthermore, the sun is something that has already passed and will pass again, something that has already been born and will be reborn. Sherlock vaguely felt that it would be reasonable for it to return in his old age...

... But how is that possible? How could a path to the Sixth Level or higher appear...?

Sherlock was somewhat confused, but he simply kept it in mind.

Looking at the clothes on the ground that were much too big for him, young Sherlock pondered for a while, wondering whether he should ask Iver to get him some clothes for younger people, but ultimately gave up.

He put his loose-fitting clothes back on and decided to help Iver clean up the Ritual Site first.

At the very least, we shouldn't make things difficult for the Bishop lent them the venue.

"Fox."

"Um?"

"Please buy me some new clothes before I leave tomorrow. Thank you."

Sherlock spoke in a childish yet steady voice, "I'm not suited to go out like this."

"No problem."

Iver said with a smile, "I'll buy you some cute clothes."

"... Don't do anything unnecessary, Fox. Plain clothes will do. We're going to the countryside—plenty of clothes that allow for easy movement."

Sherlock couldn't hold back any longer and quickly added.

"OK."

Iver answered casually.

He was just joking.

It was too dark here, and he couldn't actually see what Sherlock looked like as a child. Iver was just habitually trying to be sarcastic—after all, he had just done Sherlock a big favor, and even if he acted sarcastic, Sherlock couldn't get angry.

Then this despicable act is unavoidable!

"Oh, right, you stinky Fox."

"What?"

Thanks.

Without turning his head, Sherlock said softly, "I mean, my head doesn't hurt anymore... so, thanks."

Iver's lips curled up slightly. "It's okay, we're all buddies—so you really don't need anything cute? I think Ligeia definitely be interested."

"Never mind, I take back what I just said."

"Just kidding, bro."

"It's better not to open it. It won't be long before I advance and return to my original form, so don't tell them about this... What are you up to now, all quiet?"

"I was wondering if Isabel had a camera."

"Don't tell His Highness or Master Agnes about this!"

The two were painting the walls of the cellar of St. Genevieve Chapel in the early morning, not knowing how long it would take.

Update complete!

I'm taking the high-speed train tomorrow, which will be a bumpy day, so I might need to ask for leave. I'm letting you know in advance! Tonight I'll try to write some drafts; if I can finish them, I'll update as usual tomorrow. If not, I'll send a leave request tomorrow morning.