I will be crowned king

Under the strange purple-red candlelight, the black mage looked at Anson's cheeks that were trembling slightly with excitement and surprise, and nodded with great satisfaction.

good, very good.

"If you want to master curse magic, or according to the blasphemous Order Church, become a spell caster, you need specific rituals and spells." The black mage's voice was mixed with a hint of joy:

"On a moonless night, you have to draw a complete hexagram pattern on the ground; stand in the center of the hexagram you drew and recite the incantation."

"By the time the ceremony is over, dear church member, you will be a caster who has mastered the power of spell magic." The black mage paused slightly, and glanced at Anson through his monocle:

"Is there anything you don't understand?"

not understand?

No, there's nothing I don't understand. I just feel like it's a bit...too casual?

Aren't these rituals usually complicated, mysterious, and very demanding?

Ansen was stunned, with a hint of surprise in the corner of his eyes that was not easy to detect.

"Uh... Mr. Black Mage, do you have any special needs for the 'supplies' for drawing the hexagram?"

"No, just anything, even branches or stones will do." Black Mage shook his head: "You don't need to draw it too standard, as long as you can roughly see the shape of a six-pointed star."

"What about the spell?"

"It's not difficult. The spell itself does not have complicated words or syllables; you don't need to shout it loudly, just chant it in a low voice."

The black mage, who saw Anson's thoughts, chuckled and shrugged: "In a very long time ago, the ritual of becoming a spell caster was indeed very complicated and demanding."

"But that was all a long time ago. Our predecessors have long found the most critical part of various mysterious rituals - after all, faith is the key, and there is no point in pretending to be mysterious."

Well, in the past, in order to attract believers, the more mysterious the ceremony, the better; now that it has become an underground organization that everyone wants to fight, it is natural to lower the threshold to recruit new people.

"Snapped!"

The black mage gently snapped his fingers, and stretched his white-gloved right hand toward the purple-red candle that was constantly leaking blood.

With the movement of his right hand, a parchment scroll sealed with ink pad was slowly pulled out from the firelight. Anson, who was watching all this, could even smell a faint smell of burning.

Carefully holding one end of the scroll, the black mage handed it to Anson intact:

"The spell of Aton, the Master of Destiny, now...it's yours."

Anson stared at the scroll and took it solemnly with both hands.

At the moment of contact, the intact parchment suddenly burst into flames and disappeared at a speed visible to the naked eye, leaving only burning marks between his palms.

The next second, Anson was shaken by the strong tingling sensation coming from his hands; the pain seemed to be penetrated by countless steel needles in the palm of his hand, like some kind of living creature, and began to move along his arms and into his body. Spread-first the forearms, then elbows, shoulders, chest, heart...

Anson, who felt as if his heart had been shot through by a lead bullet, found that he had an inexplicable memory that was not his own.

Immediately afterwards, his vision suddenly went dark, and fragments of broken memories rushed into his mind, as if they were not cached and were infinitely accelerated.

...someone...he... himself was prostrate in an extremely dark cave, with a blazing fire behind him, turning everything the fire could shine into ashes;

In the next flashback, he struggled to get up with his back to the sea of ​​​​fire, looking at his hands that were obviously cut open by a sharp blade and bleeding continuously, and shouted something at the dark sky above his head;

In the last scene, he lost too much blood and fell to the ground again, and his blood condensed into a huge six-pointed star under him.

boom!

When Anson opened his eyes again, the first thing that caught his eye was the strange purple-red candlelight.

The candle, which was constantly leaking blood, was still a quarter of its length.

"How do you feel?" The black mage's caring words rang in his ears.

"……good."

Trying his best to suppress the lingering stinging feeling, Ansen smiled reluctantly at the other party.

"That's good." Black Mage pushed up the monocle on his face:

"Now that you have mastered the spell, you only need to wait for one more moonless night to perform the ritual and become a spell caster."

"My advice is, as soon as possible."

Anson's heart moved: "Is it because of the accident?"

The black mage nodded silently and stopped talking politely like before.

"Now you already know that even under the shackles of the Church of Order, true believers of the old god have already spread all over the world; everyone is full of hope, waiting for the day when the old god comes, and contributes to the 'big plan' Everything about myself, but..."

After a subtle pause, the Black Mage sighed softly: "Although we are all striving for the same goal, everyone's ideas are still slightly different; especially the differences in region and origin, it is difficult for us to identify with each other."

"And due to years of suppression from the church, it is difficult for the believers of the Old God to unite together openly. It is this division that makes us, who are obviously powerful, have to suffer the oppression and slander of the Church of Order!"

really……

Anson listened to the other party carefully and began to think rapidly in his heart.

When looking through the diary and various memory flashbacks of "former Anson", he once suspected that the so-called "Old God Sect" might not only be an underground evil organization, but a quite common cult belief.

And the "Old God Sect" that I came into contact with, that is, the black mage in front of me, was probably just a branch in the Kingdom of Clovis, or maybe even just one of many branches.

"Just like this time, it's also division that prevents us from reaching consensus."

The Black Mage continued, his voice becoming sharper and faster: "Although Clovis and the Empire have rekindled the war with concerted efforts, many old people in the Empire have to deal with how to take advantage of this once-in-a-lifetime situation. The believers of God have great objections.”

"To this day, they still have not given up their illusions about the empire, believing that one day, this weak and powerless country and her emperor will really be able to establish an empire that covers the entire known world, and completely obliterate order through centralization of power The influence of the church has restored the glory of the old gods!”

"Obviously, they are very wrong; the emperor and princes may give them a little sweetness for the sake of taking advantage, but they will never fulfill such a promise; if they want to revive the old gods, they must use war to maintain the Church of Order. The balance is shattered!"

As the words became more and more exciting, the expression of the black mage under the round hat became more and more crazy, and the body sitting on the chair began to tremble: "War, only war! A short war will not help the revival of the old gods. Only a war that completely breaks the balance can destroy the rule of the Church of Order!"

The sudden glance from him as he stood up suddenly made the restless Anson try his best to maintain the same expression of being too excited to control himself.

"Of course, if it's just a disagreement, it's still acceptable." As soon as the topic changed, the Black Mage's tone suddenly calmed down:

"But not long ago, I received a very precious tip - the believers of the Old Gods in the Thunder Castle Fortress have defected to the Church of Order."

"They knew that the Kingdom of Clovis would definitely try its best to recapture the fortress, so they planned to cause an accident - the army of the Kingdom of Clovis used the power of magic in the process of recapturing Thunder Castle."

"This will give the Church of Order an excuse to intervene or even mediate; facing the Church's doubts, the Kingdom of Clovis will find it difficult to continue the war and will have to propose peace negotiations to the Empire."

"The war will end here, and both the Empire and the Church of Order will benefit from it; the 'grand plan' of the rise of the Old Gods will suffer unprecedented damage."

Sitting back on the armchair, the black mage deliberately leaned forward and stared at Anson.

It was only at this moment that Anson realized that his right pupil without glasses was blood red.

The blood-red pupils cannot be seen.

"Now, dear fellow Anson Bach, the only person who can reverse all this and change the situation... is you." The black mage murmured in a low voice, watching Anson's expression through the candlelight:

"Recapture Thunder Castle for the Kingdom of Clovis, and destroy all traces that may be suspected by the Church of Order before it becomes too late!"

"Only in this way can we save the world, save the 'big plan' that is already in danger, and save our faith and past glory."

"No one but you."

"Are you... willing to take on this burden?"

I don't want to, please, can you let me go?

Anson, whose lips trembled slightly, took a deep breath and stared at the black mage with the same solemn expression:

"I do!"

"This is the answer of a brave man...Dear church member, you let me see the future and the backbone of the Old Gods."

The black mage nodded extremely vigorously, never moving his eyes away from Anson's face: "I can assure you that no matter when, the Old God Sect will be your greatest support; no matter what happens, I will do my best. to protect you."

"So don't worry that you will be fighting alone, dear church member, you are not alone. Behind you are thousands of believers of the old gods who are fighting for the 'big plan' like you; you... are not alone. !”

Anson, who was moved by the other party, trembled slightly and tried his best to suppress the tears in the corners of his eyes.

Good, very good, he finally figured out what was going on.

There are one or several members of the Old God Sect among the imperial guards in Thunder Castle. He must seize the fortress before the other party makes big news, and nip all accidents in the bud.

What would happen if I didn't do this?

Anson can think of two.

The first is to attack the fortress while colliding with the Old Gods who have completed the plan. The conscripted army, which is absolutely unclear, will definitely take the blame;

The second is that before the levy force has begun to attack the city, the Old Gods in the fortress "rush" to complete the goal. Brigadier General Ludwig, who thinks there is an opportunity to take advantage of it, immediately orders the siege...

No matter which one, it would definitely be doomed. Even if Ludwig, the biological son of the Archbishop, would not take the blame, his identity as a believer of the Old God Sect would definitely be exposed.

As for breaking away from the Old God Sect... this beautiful fantasy, Anson gave up the moment he traveled through time.

All underground evil organizations are easy to get in and difficult to get out; from the moment "Ex-Anson" found his hobby, he could not leave easily.

Since you can't escape, give up your unrealistic fantasies and get as much useful information from the other party as possible.

"Let's end today's conversation here."

The black mage's right hand swept across the candle, and only about one-tenth of the remaining candle remained.

"Dear parishioner, I believe you also need some time to prepare and take next actions. I will wait for your good news." He lowered the brim of his hat slightly and said in a deep voice:

"Before it officially ends, do you have any questions you want to know? I promise to tell you everything you know."

Really, can you tell me what your real name is?

Anson thought seriously for a few seconds, and then looked at the other party tremblingly:

"Dear Black Mage, do you know the surname 'August'?"

The black mage stood up and nodded slightly, as if he was deep in thought.

Anson, who had a calm expression, was observing each other's every move calmly.

"Auguste...sounds like a very traditional Clovis surname." The black mage groaned, lowering his head slightly and looking at Anson:

"How did you know about it?"

"I can't remember exactly, I just have a vague impression that someone mentioned it."

Anson showed a slightly confused expression, trying his best to fit the image of a conspiracy theory fanatic like "former Anson": "You know, this is a very traditional Clovis surname; many ancient families that have been passed down for many years have something to do with the truth of history. involved.”

"It makes sense." Black Mage nodded:

"I will investigate this issue and give you a more accurate answer as soon as possible. In addition, if there is any information about Thunder Castle, I will notify you as soon as possible."

He probably didn't know about Lisa August, and of course he didn't rule out that she concealed it well... Anson nodded and asked in a tentative tone:

"So... Mr. Black Mage, if I have something to report to you at short notice, how should I inform you?"

The black mage was stunned for a moment, and then chuckled:

"Don't worry, I will naturally come to you after this incident is over - before that, remember to always pay attention to the letter on the table. I will provide you with all the help I can."

Anson nodded quickly.

Very good, this means that although the other party is near you, he does not have the ability to monitor you at all times.

"When we meet next time, dear parishioner, I hope you will already be a qualified spellcaster."

The gentle black mage raised his right hand and extinguished the candle that was about to burn out.

In an instant, the whole world fell into darkness.

Anson, who regained his senses in a daze, blinked his sour eyes and found that he was still lying on the bed.

The morning mist smelling of gunpowder blew against the tent curtain, bringing a dazzling light into his field of vision. Anson, who had a splitting headache, woke up from his sleep and dragged his tired body out of the pitch-black tent.

Its daybreak.