I will be crowned king

Midnight, no moon.

Lisa, who was yawning, sat cross-legged on the earth wall outside the tent, trying very hard to open her eyes. Her right hand in her arms was holding the can of meat that Anson gave her.

According to the agreement between the two, if Lisa could persist for one night and not mention it to others, she would get another bag of canned meat.

After repeatedly confirming that there was no one else outside the tent except Lisa, Anson finally breathed a sigh of relief and officially began to prepare for the ceremony.

Although he was in a hurry and was very unsafe in a crowded military camp, he really couldn't wait any longer - the Old Gods in Thunder Castle might take action at any time, and Ludwig had already been forced to To the Jedi...the battle will start at any time.

Even with the risk of exposure, he had to take a gamble.

Lying down in the clearing that was finally sorted out, Anson, holding a piece of chalk, meticulously drew a six-pointed star formation on the ground.

It is not easy to draw a magic circle that is the size of a person. At least it is much more difficult than it looks. If you are not careful, you may draw it crookedly or it may be more or less. In addition, you must be wary of anything outside the tent anytime and anywhere. The movement made the originally easy work go on for a full thirty minutes.

After drawing with chalk, Anson used a sharp stone to carve the painted mark again, and carefully cut open his palm with a bayonet. After confirming that the bandage was good, he dripped the squeezed blood onto the scratches on the stone. Medium... I struggled for nearly thirty minutes.

Although the "Black Mage" mentioned that as long as the shape of the six-pointed star can be roughly seen, it does not require special neatness, and there is no need for blood sacrifices. However, Anson, who was doing this kind of thing for the first time, still decided to keep everything safe. .

After completely completing the six-pointed star formation, Anson took a deep breath and checked the situation outside the tent again before slowly kneeling in the center of the formation with his hands hanging by his side.

As the memory that "doesn't belong to me" began to emerge in his mind, Anson, who spoke in a low voice, recited notes that were completely unknown to him and did not even belong to any kind of writing:

“I hereby swear;

I will cut off all the shackles of restraint and hold my destiny in my hands..."

Closing his eyes, Anson felt anxious and began to wait for what was about to happen next.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

well? It seems like nothing special happened...

"boom--!!!!"

An indescribable loud noise suddenly exploded in his mind.

Almost at the same moment, the relaxed body began to twitch and spasm uncontrollably; the muscles of the limbs and neck tightened as if being pulled by chains. Anson, who couldn't help but raise his head, suddenly opened his eyes, and the tense face became very scary. And the ferocious, trembling eyes that turned white were eroded bit by bit by bloodshot eyes.

The consciousness that was originally absolutely clear and rational fell into blur in the "loud noise", sinking bit by bit, as if it was about to be completely stripped away, and gradually lost control and touch of the body.

He felt that he was rising.

No, more like "falling".

It was as if it had lost its "anchor" and was pulled to the ground, falling towards the endless dome.

Strange screams, heart-rending shouts and angry roars kept ringing in his ears... turned into a violent hurricane, constantly tearing his "body" around.

There was finally a trace of panic in his "chaotic" consciousness... He was still falling, and he was still "falling" toward the "bottomless" dome.

He fell deeper and deeper, until the mute and strange echoes in his ears disappeared, and the air around him became thinner. Breathing, which was originally basically instinctive, began to become more and more difficult.

But as the fall continued, this "suffocation" turned into a subtle touch, even vaguely comfortable.

Anson, who seemed to be completely relaxed, opened his eyes, and what greeted him was an endless sea of ​​fog with no end, an endless hazy sea of ​​fog.

Breaking away from the restraints, the uncontrollable "self" was about to fall into the sea of ​​mist; he didn't even think there was anything wrong with continuing to fall like this, it didn't look like it at all anyway...

"boom--!!!!"

There was a loud noise without warning, and the sea of ​​fog burned in the explosion.

The next second, the blazing sea of ​​fire seemed to have life, gathering into countless tongues of fire in Anson's horrified eyes, rushing towards him from all directions!

The thin figure was swallowed up in an instant. He was obviously free from the restraints of his body, but at this moment he could clearly feel the pain of being eroded by the flames - the indescribable severe pain, the trembling and the pain beyond the heat!

His hair was reduced to ashes, the superficial skin and flesh dissolved bit by bit, the blood was evaporated, and the bones turned into the color of charcoal, twisted and shattered in the scorching flames, without a trace.

Only a heart remains.

A heart that is branded with a slightly burning hexagram array.

Falling through the burning sea of ​​mist.

This time it was a real fall!

"boom!"

At the moment of the loud noise, the falling consciousness was once again bound by the chain, and the consciousness was forcefully pulled back to the body.

The tight body suddenly lost its restraints, and Anson, with his eyes closed, fell down in the six-pointed star circle he drew.

As if he suddenly woke up, his whole body was covered with cold sweat, and his freed chest took in big mouthfuls of air mixed with the smell of gunpowder smoke.

Hahaha……

There were constant stabbing pains in his head and chest. Anson, who was trying his best to restrain his boredom and vomiting desire, almost tried his best to open his eyes.

It was still a dark and narrow tent, still made of cold and hard soil; it was just that the six-pointed star formation that I had originally drawn had disappeared without a trace.

Anson, who endured the pain, struggled to turn sideways and took out his brass pocket watch from his coat pocket. He originally thought that this thing was broken, but after communicating with the young knight, he realized that this thing would wear out over time. Clockwork.

He still remembers the regretful expression on the other person's face when he handed the pocket watch to him again after winding it up by candlelight - that sigh was definitely not for him, but for some unworthy watchmaker.

Gently press the switch, and the copper cover is opened to reveal a dial full of scratches; the short hand successfully reaches "four" and is only a short distance away from "five".

"Five hours, how come it feels like not even a minute has passed?"

After his breathing gradually calmed down, Anson sat up from the ground and looked at his hands and feet. Except for a faint burning sensation in the heart area of ​​his chest, there were no special changes.

After a few more minutes, even the faint burning sensation gradually subsided, leaving nothing behind.

Uh...so do I succeed or fail?

Anson suddenly realized a very serious problem - he had no way to confirm whether he was successful!

No, it seems there is!

Anson, who was all agitated, took out the letter from "Professor of History Department Mace Honnard" - that is, the letter sent to him by the black mage from his coat pocket.

Opening the letter carefully, Anson skipped the content and carefully observed every detail and position of the letter.

This is a letter that looks very ordinary and has nothing special about it; but if it were like this, the other party would not go out of his way to take the risk and would make sure that he would receive it.

So there must be something wrong with it, and it will only become "problematic" if the person receiving the letter is you.

After carefully looking at it several times to confirm that there was indeed no sandwich or light-colored fonts with hidden ink, Anson, who was silent for a moment, laid the letter flat by his side and slightly opened the gauze wrapped on his palm.

For some reason, his wound had basically healed in just a few hours, forcing Anson to make another small cut on his fingertip and drip blood on the letter paper.

"Snapped!"

The smooth letter paper instantly absorbed the dripping blood without a trace, leaving not even the slightest mark.

The next second, a line of elegant handwriting appeared at the last line of the letter:

[My dear church member, may the ancient gods bless you on this moonless night. 】