The Ritual

Seeing the man's dead body collapse on the floor, I took a small step back.

I had done it. He was dead. All those bad scenarios I had made plans for, the one where he somehow wakes up and kills me, none of them happened.

I slowly massaged my shoulder. Seriously, this guy's body was too weak. Trekking for all days had been hell for my legs, and now the recoil from continuously firing the mana bullet had also hurt my shoulders.

I walked towards the nearest wall and sat down to rest for a while. I needed to be in peak condition before I began the Bloodline Transfusion ritual. Besides, thanks to the novel, I was absolutely sure that with the man dead, there was currently no more danger in this place.

Still, it was a bit curious. The manner in which I found the man was completely opposite to what I had read in the book. Sure, I had entered the place a lot earlier than in the novel, but still…

Maybe something happened between now and then, or maybe the novel was wrong.

Or maybe my presence had already began affecting the story. No that was unlikely, in this scenario at least.

If the first was true, then there was nothing to be afraid of. On the other hand, if the second and third were true…

Whatever it was, I needed to perform the ceremony as quickly as possible and get the hell out of this place.

After resting for an hour, I took out the items from the spatial storage and began preparing for the ritual.

I took out the book that explained how to conduct the ritual and walked to the center of the hall; there, taking out the ink made from the heart route sap, I began drawing the ritual circle.

Once finished with the circle I took out nine stone markers and arranged them at equal distance around the circle, six on the outside and three on the inside. I then proceeded to fill the stone markers with individual items each.

"Claws of an Ashhound will go there, scales of a green serpent on the insides, sprinkle some stardust on the outside…"

Once I was done, I walked back to the man's corpse and grabbed his torso. Black blood was still flowing from his head down into a puddle, causing my shoes to get soaked in it.

Ignoring all of that, I tried to drag the man down into the circle, but I couldn't.

"Just how is he this heavy?" It was like I was dragging a large boulder. In the end, it took me close to an hour to drag him towards the circle.

"If I had known this was going to happen, I would have drawn the circle around him."

I had expected to be in peak physical condition for the ceremony but I couldn't wait any longer. The ink had began to dry up. Anymore and the ritual might not work.

Dragging the man in one of the circles in the middle, I collapsed down on the second one. There, I took out a small dagger and began purifying it with some stardust. Once finished, I took out a silk scarf and tied my and the man's hand to it.

"Grâl book tarun,

Grâl vokk sen,

Vosh-kath venne,

Lakh duun venn."

I began reading the chants from the book in ancient 'Khravaen'. After I was finished with the first chant I took out the ceremonial knife and slashed the man's hand with it. I than proceeded to slash my own.

Thankfully not all the blood had been lost. I than took out a silver cup, purified it with stardust and put it under the silk scarf. Drop by Drop both of our blood fell down on the silk scarf, filtering into the cup.

One by one all the items surrounding us began to turn into dust at the same time the blood in the bowl began to mix together and illuminate with a mystical glow.

Almost there, I continued chanting. As the ceremony progressed, the man's body began to shrivel up. The more his body lost its former state, the more the blood glowed.

Finally, the last material on the stone markers turned into dust, and at the same time, the man's body turned to dust.

The ritual was successful; I took the bowl in my hands and carried it to my lips.

This was it; taking a deep breath, I drank the blood in one fell swoop. At once, my vision began to swim, and the inner part of the circle began glowing at the same time. And before I knew it, I had already passed out.

---

When I opened my eyes, I found myself standing in front of the ocean. Sun shone high in the sky and the cold wind blew at my face.

"What is this?" I spoke only to notice my voice was different. Even the language I was speaking was different.

That's when I noticed it: my body was a lot shorter than before.

I immediately began looking around my surroundings. I was currently standing on a sandy beach. In the distance, one could see what looked like a large mountain.

"Khaldrin what are you doing there?" A voice pulled me out of my thoughts, turning around I saw a woman dressed in white robes walking towards my direction. Behind her stood a man covered in dark robes.

"Shouldn't you be collecting the herbs mother asked for? The woman spoke in the same unknown language, no not unknown this sounded a lot like 'Khravaen'.

"I…." I was just about to speak when, once again, everything turned dark.

…

…

…

Opening my eyes, I found my bloodied hands latched onto a mountain. Grown-up hands, not the small hands I had a moment ago.

Looking around, I saw many teenage boys and girls similarly latched onto the mountain, climbing it with their bare hands. Once in a while, someone's hand would slip, and they would fall to their death.

"Just what the hell is happening here?"

Not wanting to fall to my death, I began climbing up, my hands latching onto sharp rocks.

I kept climbing and climbing.

The sun fell down and rose again, people around me began to fall one by one. Yet I didn't stop.

I wasn't going to die here, absolutely not.

I didn't know how many days it took, but I finally saw the peak. By now, my entire body was bruised, and the skin on my hands had peeled off.

With renowned resolve, I continued climbing, finally reaching out my hand to latch onto the final rock I would grab.

Suddenly my eyes were brought in to something peculiar. Up at the top I saw a man dressed in black robes and a hood covering his face. The same man I had seen back on the beach.

My entire body froze, as I saw the man slowly walked up to me. He crouched down and grabbed my hand holding the rock, before lifting me high up in the air.

I tried to resist; my body was too battered and broken to do anything, yet I still tried kicking and punching.

But the man shrugged off every single attack, not even wincing as I hit his body.

"Tu'ra zhal Khaldrin." The man spoke. This time I couldn't understand what he was saying.

And then he let go, loosening his grip over my hand.

It was as if the word had slowed down for a second. Just like the countless others I had seen in the last couple of days, my body began falling down.

"Nine."

Gazing at my falling body, the man spoke for the final time. This time, I perfectly understood him.

And just like that, once again, it all went dark.

---

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself lying face to face with the familiar ceiling of the hall in the temple.

Was this a dream? Was I back?

I slowly turned my head to look around, only to wince in pain. For some reason, my entire body felt like it had been crushed under a boulder.

"Ugh." I groaned and slowly sat up, only to fall back down in surprise as a large screen materialized in front of me.

===

Core Bloodline Acquired.

Special Inheritance Gained.

New Title- Apostle of Death

--

Name- Roye Valdrin

Age- 16

Title- Apostle of Death [Unknown]

Cultivation- Body Refinement [Low stage]

Skill- Deadly Intuition [Unknown]

 Eternal Rebirth [Unknown]

Spells- [None]

Revenants- [0/3]