Chapter 204: A Difficult-to-Complete Ritual

Chapter 204: A Difficult-to-Complete Ritual

After thinking for a while and finding no answer, Klein, having received no danger premonition, put away the slender blood crystal. Then he bent down and examined the demonized Gilchies, who had lost half his head.

“I wonder whether I can still collect the bounty like this, and how much I can get… I don’t know who the military liaison is on this side either. Telegraphing Uss Kent? With the time needed for the messages to go back and forth, plus his remote handling, there’s no way this would be done without three or four days. I have to leave tomorrow… And I’d have to pay benefits to the middleman too,” he muttered. Then he walked to one side, picked up his half top hat with obvious scorch marks, and put it back on his head.

After that, he dragged the heavy, enormous demon corpse step by step to the door and reached out to pull it open.

A whistling wind blew in, and the silence inside the room vanished at once.

Klein pinched his finger to deactivate his Spirit Body Threads vision. Then he continued dragging the hideous, terrifying demon corpse through the corridor and down the stairs to the first floor.

By then, almost no one was left inside the bar. Tables had been overturned, chairs knocked down, shards scattered across the floor. The place was a complete wreck.

Klein entered the hall through the badly damaged stairway entrance and swept his gaze around, quickly finding the bar owner, who was crouched behind the counter with a miserable expression. The bodyguards he had hired were few in number now, scattered around the place.

Tap. Tap. Tap… Klein walked toward him one step at a time, the demon corpse behind him knocking aside many tables and chairs.

“Wh-what do you want?” The owner took a step back and shouted at the top of his lungs.

His bodyguards gathered fearfully, eyes drifting, bodies angled in different directions, as though they would immediately sprint away the moment anything unexpected happened.

Klein stopped and tossed Gilchies’s corpse forward.

Then he spoke in a low, hoarse voice:

“Can you collect a bounty on my behalf?”

The owner froze for one second. His gaze instinctively moved downward, allowing him to clearly see the gigantic demon corpse still wrapped in traces of pale-blue flame.

He and his bodyguards simultaneously inhaled sharply, experiencing the illusion that they were no longer in the real world.

This was actually a real demon!

Aside from no longer having curved goat horns, it looked exactly like the demons described in Church texts and legends!

For ordinary people living in a pirate paradise, witnessing supernatural powers was not an especially rare thing. In that regard, their experience clearly surpassed the common people of colonies west of Olavi and of the mainland kingdom. Even so, as the owner of a large bar and his guards, none of them had ever seen a true demon before. They had even suspected that demons were Church slander against unofficial Beyonders.

The owner struggled to withdraw his gaze and looked toward the adventurer whose clothing was torn but whose expression remained cold.

“Yes. They should have ways to confirm that this is Gilchies.

“It is Gilchies, right?”

Klein secretly exhaled and silently nodded.

The owner considered for two seconds, then squeezed out a smile filled with fear.

“But I can’t obtain the full amount. You know, this process requires certain expenses. About thirty percent in fees. Otherwise, you would have to wait a very long time. 9,500 pounds is not a small sum for Toscarter Harbor. It would take at least a week. And this is only because pirates appear frequently here, adventurers often collect bounties, and there are usually considerable funds reserved. On Olavi Island, or in other places, it might take two weeks, perhaps even a month.”

9,500 pounds really was not a small sum. Klein clearly remembered that back in Tingen, the Nighthawks’ entire monthly budget had only been around 1,000 pounds, and that was split between the Church and the police department.

After thinking briefly, he asked the bar owner, “Do you know me?”

“Yes.” The owner nodded hurriedly.

Klein swept his gaze over everyone and continued, “Can you find out where I’m staying?”

“Yes, yes.” The owner did not dare lie.

Klein gave an “Mm,” then said in a flat tone, “Before noon tomorrow, send 6,000 pounds in bounty money over.”

Six thousand pounds? That’s even less than seventy percent—more than six hundred pounds less… The owner froze, having never expected the crazy adventurer to voluntarily lower the price.

“Can you do it?” Klein asked again.

The extra 650 pounds was his compensation to the bar. After all, the situation here was rather miserable. But words like that could not be said by the crazy adventurer himself, and he believed the bar owner was no philanthropist either. The man would certainly not hand the surplus money over to anyone else.

After serious consideration, the owner answered, “Yes!”

Even if the official process truly could not move that quickly, he was not worried, because he planned to borrow part of the money and combine it with his own savings to advance the bounty Gehrman Sparrow required.

Business that could earn several hundred pounds in one go was not common. It absolutely could not be missed!

Klein nodded and said nothing more. He turned around and walked toward the bar’s entrance.

As he neared the door, he took several yellow copper coins from his clothing pocket and tossed them onto a small round table nearby that had not been knocked over.

Clink, clink, clink. The coins rolled until they settled, totaling eight pence.

During the entire action, Klein, dressed in a black formal frock coat, did not pause or slow his steps. His back quickly vanished beyond the door.

“Wh-what does that mean?” the owner asked, both astonished and confused.

Most of the bodyguards shook their heads with similar expressions, indicating that they, too, had no idea why Gehrman Sparrow had thrown those coins down.

The only bodyguard who had originally been guarding near the entrance frowned and thought for a moment. Not very certain, he said, “When he first came in, he took—took someone else’s beer and threw it at Gilchies.

“Is that the money for the beer, along with the glass?”

The bar fell silent again. Although the owner and several bodyguards could not quite accept such an explanation, for some reason, they felt it suited the crazy adventurer Gehrman Sparrow’s style remarkably well.

…

Another set of clothes ruined. That’s nearly nine pounds… Fortunately, the income this time is substantial… Mm, I’ll have another set made tomorrow… After turning into another street, Klein stopped and examined his condition.

He did not rush back to the inn where he was staying. Instead, following the information provided by New Loen Party boss Mosona, he found a police officer who had been controlled by drugs, had helped the gang do many bad things, and had even forged circumstances to murder witnesses. Klein used spirit channeling to confirm the man’s crimes, then let Creeping Hunger enjoy today’s true feast.

After completing that, Klein took a carriage back to the inn and entered his room.

After making a few arrangements, he used a ritual to bring Creeping Hunger and the slender blood crystal above the gray fog.

Taking his seat at the head of the bronze long table, Klein picked up the glove without hesitation and released the Priest of Light’s soul.

This Sequence 5 powerhouse was a thin-faced elder with a refined air and gentle manner. He wore a simple white clergyman’s robe and bowed toward the mysterious existence shrouded in gray fog, expressing his gratitude.

Klein nodded lightly in response. Then he directly conjured paper and pen and wrote a divination statement:

“The potion formulas for the Sun pathway above Sequence 7.”

Leaning back against his chair, he began spirit channeling through dream divination.

The gray, foggy world soon changed. He saw the Priest of Light from moments earlier unfold a piece of brown parchment inside a sunlit study. Written on it in ancient Feysac was a formula:

“Sequence 6: Notary.

“Main ingredients: one crystallized rhizome of the Elder Tree; five tail feathers of the Contract Spirit Bird.

“Supplementary ingredients: 100 milliliters of sap from a Radiant Contract Spirit Tree; one golden-edged sunflower; one white-edged sunflower; five drops of water fern juice.”

After the image froze for several seconds, ripples appeared like water, reconstructing a luxurious hall filled with golden statues.

Inside the hall, a man enveloped in pure light, impossible to look at directly, spoke to a half-hundred-year-old elder below him.

“This is the potion formula for Priest of Light. Remember: drive away darkness, praise the Sun.”

The old man agreed excitedly and opened the ancient parchment in his hands:

“Sequence 5: Priest of Light.

“Main ingredients: the red comb of the Dawn Rooster King; one piece of pure white Radiance Stone.

“Supplementary ingredients: 5 grams of rosemary; 7 drops of Buddha’s hand juice; 10 milliliters of stonewater; 60 milliliters of Dawn Rooster King blood.

“Ritual: In pure darkness, bury your entire body inside ice that would not normally melt, then consume the potion.”

The image quickly vanished, with no further content.

Klein was not surprised. He knew very well that when it came to the demigod level, the seven Churches often directly provided the potion and ritual, but not the formula.

By then, the Priest of Light’s figure had already dissipated by more than half due to the forceful spirit channeling.

His pained expression dimmed in turn. His head tilted upward, and his arms opened outward, making the gesture of embracing sunlight.

“Praise the Sun!” The Priest of Light closed his eyes and spoke devoutly.

Those were his final words. His spirit body rapidly disintegrated and faded, falling into the gray fog and vanishing completely.

A devout believer… Klein sighed in assessment. Then he quickly recalled what he had seen in the dream and copied down the formulas.

One of the Notary’s main ingredients is the crystallized rhizome of the Elder Tree… I remember Miss Justice’s Psychiatrist potion needs the Elder Tree’s fruit… From this, it seems Spectator and Sun really might be interchangeable at High Sequence… The Priest of Light ritual’s difficult part for normal people is finding ice that would not normally melt, but Little Sun is different. Living humans in the Forsaken Land of the Gods might vanish if they are in pure darkness. He’ll need a method to avoid that… “Drive away darkness, praise the Sun”—is that acting method? Klein pondered for a while, then picked up the slender blood crystal that had precipitated from Gilchies’s body.

After thinking carefully for several seconds, he wrote the corresponding divination statement:

“Its origin.”

Holding the object and the paper, Klein once again silently recited the statement and entered the dream.

In the gray world, he saw the gigantic sailing ship whose bow and stern curved high upward: the Death Knell. He saw Gilchies climb the rope ladder and reach the deck.

The moment this Apostle of Desire’s feet landed firmly, viscous black fog spread from the gaps in the deck. It carried a fallen and evil aura, enveloping Gilchies entirely and polluting and corroding every object on him that flashed with spiritual light, including his own body.

The fog rapidly shrank and burrowed into Gilchies’s chest. Its color gradually turned red, as if dyed by blood.

Finally, everything returned to normal. Gilchies knelt on one knee and faced the deck, saying, “Your will is my wish, great Death Knell!”

The image shattered, and Klein opened his eyes.

He sat up straight and looked at the slender blood crystal. Thoughtfully, he spoke to himself without sound:

“The Death Knell is alive?

“A Sealed Artifact with living characteristics?

“This crystal is the source of its control over its crew. It possesses strong pollution, so mystical items with insufficient standing would be corroded?”