Prophecy Ritual

Although Sart's talent as a prophet was lacking and he was merely a Star Tower bookworm, there was absolutely nothing wrong with his academic ability.

This could be glimpsed from Julian's commission.

Siosand had come representing the strongest Silver Tier prophet of the Star Tower, while Sart...

In a sense, Julian believed that Sart, a Bronze Tier prophet, could join forces with Siosand to resolve this matter. In truth, he and Siosand were more or less on the same level.

He could clearly distinguish which spices were flawed from among all those complicated scents, without even needing to use any other method of identification.

Under normal circumstances, he might have turned a blind eye and let it pass. After all, only a few kinds of spices were involved, and they were all replaceable varieties. Aside from a few obscure and uncommon rituals, they would probably never be used.

The problem was that these spices were extremely important this time. They were meant to be used in a battle against a Silver Tier Heretical Cultist.

This concerned their lives. Did Colin dare tamper with it?

Furthermore, his immediate superior was right in front of him!

Sart was only lenient with Aaron. If it had been anyone else, he was a second-generation heir of the Star Tower.

Bals snorted. "Colin, what's going on?"

Colin swallowed and hurriedly said, "I... I'm not really sure either."

Although that was what he said, everyone present knew perfectly well that his reaction proved he knew about it.

"It's fine. These kinds of spices all have substitutes." Sart spoke casually. Then he took a pair of dark leather fingerless gloves from the leather bag he carried and put them on. "It won't affect the operation."

"Colin, you've worked for me for many years. You know my temper..." Bals said coldly. "After this is over, I'll investigate this thoroughly."

"Of... of course, Lord Bals." Colin agreed repeatedly, slightly relieved.

"What's that?" Aaron watched as Sart carefully brushed the liquid from the bottom onto the gloves, then sprinkled on a little powder.

It seemed that he was following some special pattern, sprinkling a set amount of powdered spice only in specific places. Yet his movements were astonishingly fast. In the blink of an eye, both gloves were covered in spices of various colors.

"This counts as a prophet's pre-battle preparations." Sart had not responded at all. Only after finishing coating both gloves with spices did he let out a long breath and answer Aaron's question. "It would be incredibly foolish to carry a heavy spice box into battle."

Through a special neutral adhesive, various spices could be stuck to the gloves. If danger arose, the prophet could immediately create a simple ritual in an emergency.

Although the amount of spice attached to the gloves was extremely limited, it could often save a prophet's life at a critical moment.

As a Star Tower bookworm, Sart's grades in practical theory were among the best.

These Spice Gloves were also something he had improved and upgraded based on existing equipment for storing spices.

Sart casually flexed his fingers, then lowered his head and poured a crimson liquid from the spice box. He looked toward Bals. "Lord City Lord, I'll prepare the ritual now."

Before Bals could reply, Colin eagerly withdrew with his attendants.

Sart did not take it to heart. He quickly drew a circle on the wooden table. The strange thing was that the liquid his finger passed over actually solidified at a visible speed, becoming dark-red crystals in the blink of an eye.

For some reason, Aaron felt that the atmosphere around them had begun to grow oppressive.

"Shining Root powder, Rotten Blue Moon Grass powder, and Dragon Scale Grass sap. If they've been contaminated, Spirit Powder can be used as a neutralizer and substitute. If there's no Sleepless Grass, Amethyst Powder can be used instead..."

Once he entered the state of arranging the ritual, Sart seemed like a completely different person. On one hand, he muttered to himself, speaking words only he could understand. On the other, he rapidly arranged numerous spices across the surface of the dark-red crystal.

Each time he added another spice, the dark-red crystal grew brighter. When Sart sprinkled a small amount of Spirit Powder across its surface, the entire crystal plane suddenly burst into flames.

Aaron, who was leaning close by, did not feel any heat. It was as if the flames were merely an illusion.

Yet he clearly saw the spices within disappearing at a visible speed. In his daze, he seemed to hear some whispers again.

"Alice, throw the card into the ritual." Sart's tone was unusually dazed, but his expression was solemn, and his eyes were almost entirely filled with silvery-white starlight.

His soul began wandering through the hastily constructed ritual site. Only a faint connection to his physical body barely kept him from becoming lost.

Countless indescribable illusions appeared before him, yet he forcibly suppressed his curiosity and waited for Alice's response.

As a prophecy, he needed a mark, a guide—something that would tell his soul and instincts exactly what he was looking for.

They had no information whatsoever about the Heretical Cultists, but they had the card of the "Crawling Hand."

The bronze-colored card was successfully thrown into the illusory flames. It slowly crumbled beneath the flames' licking tongues, but countless shadows suddenly sprang from within the fire.

The atmosphere grew even more oppressive. Aaron even faintly felt that suffocating sensation from before once again.

Then, something cold touched his hand.

He instinctively lowered his head. It was Alice's hand.

"Stay calm. Perhaps you can obtain additional supernatural information from the ritual." Alice spoke in a low voice.

Perhaps because of the candlelight in the room, Aaron felt that Alice's face seemed a little flushed.

"What exactly was that card?"

Perhaps because of the ritual, the atmosphere was extremely oppressive, making everyone lower their voices unconsciously. Aaron leaned close to Alice's ear and whispered.

"It's a conglomeration of supernatural aura. When you advance from Black Iron to Bronze, you'll also receive a card like this. It means that you finally have the qualifications to wield supernatural power."

Alice seemed unaccustomed to being so close to Aaron. She turned her head to avoid him, then glared fiercely at him, and that delicate, boneless hand instantly became as hard as steel.

Hiss...

Aaron could not help drawing in half a breath of cold air—because Bals and Ed had both cast puzzled looks his way.

Before he could think any further, a crisp cracking sound came from the illusory fire. It was like breaking glass, and several pitch-black cracks silently appeared across the flames.

Immediately afterward, endless shadows surged from the fire, clawing and twisting as they outlined countless pairs of black arms.

Darkness drove out the light. The bright candlelight was in grave danger at that moment.

The candles were clearly still burning just as brightly, yet the darkness ruthlessly occupied everything, leaving the flames only a few scattered pockets of space.

"Something seems a little off."

Sart's voice came from within the profound darkness, distant as though it were right before them yet worlds away.