svetikya 066: Corpse Bite
066: Corpse Bite
Grey Tower, Lynch's residence, basement.
Eternal silence reigns over this forgotten cavern, with only a few pieces of fluorite embedded in the rough walls emitting a constant, pale light that barely outlines the space.
The air was icy and stagnant, mixed with the smell of sulfur and decay.
At this moment, in this absolute darkness and silence, a secret and malevolent ritual is unfolding.
Lin Qi stood barefoot on the cold rock, the cold light of the fluorite casting distinct shadows on his calm face, making his focused expression appear exceptionally profound, revealing an inhuman indifference.
Before him, a complex magic circle, about three meters in diameter, was nearly complete. It was intricate and sinister, composed of three main rings:
The outer ring, known as the "crack constraint and feedback isolation ring," serves to stabilize the tiny dimensional cracks that are about to be pried open, preventing them from expanding out of control, while also shielding them from unintentional prying or interference from other entities in the Netherworld.
The central ring, "Netherworld Coordinate Anchoring and Channel Construction Ring," precisely "calculates" and "anchors" the ambiguous areas in the Netherworld where ghouls are active, and constructs an extremely subtle and transient interdimensional energy and will connection channel.
The inner ring, "Ghoul Summoning Contract and Pain Resonance Ring," establishes a temporary, mandatory contract with the summoned ghoul, using the target's pain, fear, and life force as the sweetest "bait" and "coordinate."
The summons is transmitted through the central passage to the ghouls on the other side, enticing them to respond to the call, and projecting their "devouring" will and a portion of their power back onto the target along the passage.
The underlying principle of the Ghoul Bite Curse is dimensional summoning, which borrows the power of twisted creatures from a higher-dimensional plane called the Netherworld Plane.
This plane is naturally connected to other planes. It is heavily polluted and contains countless bizarre and twisted monsters. It is a natural place to construct dark curse spells, and the raw materials for the vast majority of dark curse spells come from here.
Lynch held a nearly transparent engraving needle, carved from the spine of a "Void Eel," its tip dipped in the chaotic ink. His movements were slow and precise, carrying a solemnity and coldness akin to a sacred ritual.
The "sound of glass rubbing" in the air became clearer, mixed with faint, hollow howls and greedy chewing sounds that seemed to come from the endless distance.
Instead of decreasing in temperature, a strange, sticky feeling arose, as if the air itself was becoming thick and filled with alien energy.
After finishing the last stroke, Lynch took a step back and examined his work with a blank expression.
A miniature, dangerous interdimensional summoning array.
Once everything was ready, he reached into his pocket and took out a crystal tube wrapped with mithril threads.
The tube contained a small amount of dark red blood, the blood belonging to none other than the lord of Grayrock Fortress—
Raymond.
It was like a godsend. Just as Lynch was thinking about subjects for his spell experiments, he received a letter from Lucy, saying that the human count who had been worshipping him was asking for his help.
What else is there to say now?
A human being, physically strong and robust enough, but lacking resistance to magic, and located thousands of miles away.
Isn't this the perfect material for experimenting with magic?
A soft rustling sound rang out.
With a touch of magic from his fingertips, Lin Qi untied the mithril threads and poured all the blood into the center of the obsidian bowl.
The instant the blood touched the guiding runes etched on the bottom of the bowl—
The blood in the bowl quickly turned pitch black, its surface smooth as a mirror, reflecting the constantly twisting microscopic cracks and blasphemous runes above.
A clear and unmistakable life coordinate information belonging to Viscount Raymond, like a beacon fire being lit, surged along the "Painful Connection" symbol of the inner ring and into the ever-changing coordinate model of the middle ring!
The light in the central ring instantly intensified! The microscopic crack trembled violently, seemingly stimulated by the precise scent of the "bait," and expanded by an insignificant amount.
The clearer, inhuman screams of hunger seemed to pierce through layers of dimensions, echoing directly through the cave.
let's start!
Lin Qi formed ancient and complex hand seals in front of his chest, his fingertips swirling with a faint light that shared the same origin as the magic circle.
He took a deep breath of the viscous, otherworldly air, and began to chant slowly, his voice low and hoarse, each syllable carrying the weight of a spell:
"Using the void as a bridge, and pain as bait... we traverse the hungry spirits yearning for ruins, listening to the lamentations of flesh and blood in this world..."
......
Meanwhile, outside Armor Rock City, at the Gray Rock Fortress army's encampment.
Campfires blazed like stars, tents dotted the landscape. The clamor and raucous laughter of the victors echoed throughout the camp, along with the soldiers' undisguised greedy discussions about the impending fall of the city and the looting.
In the center of the camp, the largest and most imposing dark blue tent belongs to the owner of this place—Viscount Raymond.
The tent was brightly lit and covered with thick animal skin carpets.
Viscount Raymond's grey-brown eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction as he toyed with a silver-inlaid horn cup filled with amber-colored spirits.
A travel-worn officer was kneeling on one knee, reporting:
"...My lord, the thorn banners on the city walls have been lowered, but the city gates have not yet been opened."
Raymond frowned slightly: "Still no movement at the city gates?"
"Yes, sir." The officer bowed his head. "The defenders on the city walls are few in number, and the lights are much dimmer than usual. It does seem... like they've given up the fight. But the city gates remain closed, and the drawbridge hasn't been lowered."
"Hmph," Raymond snorted, "Old man...at this point, still hesitating? Or plotting some last-ditch effort?"
Three days ago, he held a "negotiation" with the Celtic Earl on the front lines. Following ancient noble traditions, the two sides swore an oath of blood and entered into a "decent" contract.
Raymond "promised" that the Celtic Earl could spend the rest of his life in his castle.
In exchange, the Earl of Celt must personally execute all his sons and choose the daughter with the best right to inherit from among his surviving daughters to marry Raymond.
The agreed-upon time for fulfilling the promise is tomorrow at sunrise.
"Tell the people watching up ahead," Raymond put down his glass, his voice calm yet undeniably cruel, "if by sunrise tomorrow morning I still don't see that old Celtic bastard come out and open the city gates himself..."
"Cook that little guest properly and send him in to the Earl. Let him sober up."
The "little guest" he was referring to was Eleanor, the eight-year-old adopted daughter whom the Celtic Earl cherished and captured a few days earlier.
"Yes, sir!" the officer replied in a deep voice, rising to leave and deliver the order.
"Wait," Raymond suddenly called out to him, a cruel yet amused smile playing on his lips. "I've changed my mind."
The officer stopped and looked at his master with a puzzled expression.
Raymond leaned forward slightly, the firelight flickering on his face, making his smile appear somewhat sinister: "No need to wait until tomorrow morning. Go now and have someone boil that little girl... Make sure she's thoroughly cooked."
"Tomorrow, I will use this 'good soup' to properly 'treat' our esteemed Celtic Earl, to celebrate his... well, to celebrate his wise choice."
He had no intention of honoring the contract.
What marriage alliance? The entire Thorn Territory is already under his control; there's absolutely no need to create any more trouble and leave any potential problems.
After the city falls, all the men of the Thorn Flower family must die, and the women will become spoils of war. The best few may be spared to serve as breeding tools or political symbols, but as for the rest... who cares?
He would eradicate them completely, leaving no trace. He not only wanted to seize the city, but also to utterly crush the last vestiges of the Thornflower family's spirit and dignity.
Let the Celt watch in despair and pain as everything he cherishes vanishes, and then be disposed of like an old dog.
This is the feast that the victor deserves, and also the best deterrent to his future rule.
A barely perceptible flicker of fear crossed the officer's eyes, but it was quickly masked by obedience: "Yes, sir!" He saluted again and hurriedly left the tent.
Inside the tent, "calm" returned, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Raymond leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face, and closed his eyes, already picturing his arrival at Armorrock the next day.
However, at this very moment when his mind was most relaxed and he was immersed in the illusion of victory—
A sudden change has occurred!
"M-Sir! Your...your neck!!" A scream filled with unparalleled horror and fear suddenly came from the tent entrance!
It was an officer who had just retreated, but then scrambled back as if he had seen a ghost.
His face was ashen, his finger trembled as he pointed at Raymond, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets, as if he were seeing the most terrifying sight in the world.
Startled by the piercing scream, Raymond opened his eyes abruptly, a sense of foreboding washing over him.
My neck? What's wrong with my neck?
He instinctively reached out and touched the back of his neck, the spot the guard had pointed to.
The next moment...
Raymond quickly learned what fear truly meant!