Chapter 22 - Barbas

At night, Reve quickly set out to commence the ritual. He approached the closet, reaching for a small bag where he kept all the materials he needed for the ritual.

After he found the bag, he grabbed the ancient box and came near the wall mirror on the left side of the room.

His mind rattled with anticipation towards the unknown, but he was adept enough to quell that to the minimum. The realm of ritualistic arts existed beyond the realm of reason, shrouded in enigmatic rules that offered little guarantee of safety.

Anyone could dabble in rituals, but survival belonged to only the most adept of occultists. Hence, he had to be careful. It was quite common for a misstep during a ritual to cause an unfathomable catastrophe.

Fortunately, though he wasn't an avid practitioner of rituals, he had studied the art of ritualist magic during a term in his arcadian school.

Reve recited a popular maxim from his studies: "The first step is always an unnatural belief in oneself or the other party in the ritual. That is the foundation of everything ritualistic."

He considered that step done and dusted. The only thing Reve Amethyst believed in was himself, not the hollow gods or the deceitful devils. As long as he drew breath, Reve fully believed in his boundless potential to achieve the unthinkable.

He casually measured the vacant space surrounding the wall mirror with a sweep of his eyes. After a brief speculation, he nodded affirmatively. It would suffice!

Ren's voice flowed to him as he dropped the bag on the empty ground. "Look who's sluggish and pretentious. Hurry up, will you!"

Reve shook his head and turned around to meet Ren, who reclined on her bed comfortably.

He made sure to look her in the eyes as he said, "This is serious, Ren. I want you to understand we could die if we made just even the tiniest mistake."

He understood her ignorance of the gravity of the situation. Perhaps it was the same naivety that spurned her to pressure him to conduct the ritual before time.

If it was up to him, he wouldn't do it on the ship, but dire situations called for dire solutions… he guessed.

Calen, who had been silent all this time, decided to comment, "Ren, he's right. Devils are not mere beings. They cannot be treated lightly, even the weakest ones."

Ren's smile froze as she listened to Calen. She wondered just why Calen's current expression was so tense and focused on Reve's actions. Gradually, the seriousness of the ritual began to seep in, and she became all quiet and contemplative.

Reve saw all this and was happy she finally understood.

He gazed at both of them and said, "Let's go through everything again. Once I summon the devil, we get three questions for it. I start first, Calen goes next, then you, Ren. For each question, we feed it an organ which Calen has gathered in this bucket!"

Reve pointed at the small tightly closed bucket peeking out of the bag. He was careful not to open it, afraid that the smell of blood would spread too quickly.

"The devil Barbas will attempt to throw you off with your own question. So, make them concise. Furthermore, the devil will try to get into your mind to hatch its nefarious plans. Whatever you do, do not break the mirror. Do not even think of it!"

He didn't wait for a reply and went straight to business. According to the instructions for the ritual, Reve brought out a small sac, grabbing a handful of salt from it. He walked around meticulously, leaving a trail of salt wherever he went.

By the time he was done, a rudimentary magical circle had taken form on the ground. Reve treaded cautiously around it, mindful of preserving its integrity.

Extending his hands forward, he incised a slender cut, allowing blood to trickle down to his fingertips. With his bloodied fingers, Reve began inscribing esoteric symbols within the gaps of the magical circle.

Ritualistic magic embodied two divergent realms: the orthodox practices governed by a faint semblance of logic, and the aberrant rites shrouded in inscrutable details.

Judging by the structure of the Pact of the Infernal Truthsayer, this particular ritual was certainly an aberrant, since it required no supernatural energy, only a sacrifice.

Even the supernatural symbols he etched were so unfathomably alien. Reve pondered their meaning. There were only a few supernatural systems of symbols he understood. Mostly arcanites and runes. This was a whole new territory to him.

With that, the ritual was partly done, with just one more step remaining.

As Reve drew the sigil of Barbas on the wall mirror, he pondered, 'This is beyond insane. I skipped so many steps. The ritual doesn't even require a material tether to the plane of the summoned. What power fuels it?'

One thing was certain: it wasn't ether or mana. He would have sensed either if that was the case.

He would have been able to sense the presence of another worldly energy if that was the case, but that wasn't.

'There is no use thinking too much. I just have to do as instructed.'

He quickly finished drawing the sigil of the devil with his blood and instructed Ren and Calen to do something similar, but on their foreheads.

Hastily, he began to chant as he knelt in the center of the demonic circle, facing the mirror. After the first try, he continuously repeated the chant without a stop.

"I calleth upon thee. Thy devil of hidden mysteries whose infernal gaze touches the eye of time.

The devil duke, son of Vile King Barbatos.

The wisdom bearer, the trickster of magicians.

I summon thee. Thy malevolent Duke of Secrets, Barbas! The lion who commands thirty-six legions of infernals!"

A mourning pressure gripped his soul as he continued chanting. The more he chanted, the more heavy his body felt.

Suddenly, the salt adorning the magical circle turned a crimson hue, and darkness overcame the room. The sigil on the mirror radiated with an eerie luminosity, extinguishing every other source of light.

Reve's arms tightened around his body as a slithering pain latched on to him. Yet, he persisted with his incantation, bearing the excruciating toll of the ritual, even as blood trickled from his coughing mouth.

His pool of blood coalesced into a sinister animate puddle, slithering its way toward the mirror. It expanded on the mirror surface until the faint figure of an entity could be seen.

Suddenly, Reve felt a gaze set on him like no other. It reminded him of the powerful gaze of Tiamat, but this unique one momentarily plunged him into delirium.

"Ho ho. You have such darkness in you, wretched maggot. It has been ages since my interest was piqued. Ages since I have been summoned to this fertile world, ripe for my harvesting. I await your questions, pitiful maggots"