Chapter 21
Sacred Art: Fire Sacrifice
At least on this matter, Eivass could confirm that Bishop Mathers’ intel was inferior to his own.
Although Eivass had forgotten most of the plot, a letter titled “A Letter from Someone to the Noble Red Society” obtained earlier at the Pelican Bar contained some crucial information.
The letter roughly stated that the Demon Scholars sent by the Noble Red Society this time should be “a group of people,” not just two. “That person” would cooperate with their actions, creating incidents across Glass Island in advance to divert the attention and manpower of the Inspection Bureau.
Similarly, the mysterious person who wrote the letter issued a warning to the Noble Red Society with an attitude of nearly equal partnership—in essence, the credit he was willing to extend to the Society was limited. If the Society still failed to provide him with what he wanted this time, he would “with a heavy heart, resolutely carry out some unpleasant actions that neither of us wants to see.”
The two “pen pals” who came to meet Eivass were, in fact, ahead of the main contingent.
Their motives were easy to understand.
They had been operating the “Eivass” thread for a very, very long time. Perhaps they believed Eivass would die during this period of turmoil; or perhaps they felt their superior would snatch Eivass as a resource; or maybe they felt uneasy about this operation, and thus activated Eivass, a reserve asset, in advance to supplement important resources.
Perhaps they were initially drawn by the name “Moriarty” family, but when Eivass became a priest and still maintained his trust in them, he himself became a special asset.
Noble blood, a pure heart, a soul seeking transcendence, a willing sacrificial offering—perhaps there were other factors. But Eivass’s qualifications as a sacrifice were exceptionally high.
This was because the sacrificial ritual was not a targeted summoning of a Shadow Demon, but one that any higher-level demon could attend. As soon as the ritual began, the Shadow Demon, drawn by the scent, arrived.
Eivass used half of his life force as the sacrifice and signed a contract with the Shadow Demon—this was actually the correct price.
The correct sacrificial price was “half.” No matter how much you offered, the demon would only take half, and typically, it would be the renewable half. This was because the essence of this ritual was “equal distribution.”
Equal distribution of property, power, profits, and risks—such a pair could be called collaborators. If the summoner’s demeanor satisfied the demon, the summoner could symbolically take an extra 1% to signify the difference between “master and servant”; if the summoning was already difficult, it would usually be a normal fifty-fifty split.
But in reality, this did not restrain the demon’s actions. It was merely a verbal distinction between “Master” and “Partner.”
Demon Scholars were legal professions in countries other than Avalon and the Eternal Holy Kingdom. If the use of sacrificial arts required the death of one’s sacrifice, then Demon Scholars would inherently be murderers, and this profession could not be legal. Furthermore, if a Demon Scholar performed self-sacrifice, it would be equivalent to suicide.
The sacrifices performed by Demon Scholars in the Avalon Kingdom were accompanied by massacres, which were not actually the demons’ need but rather a need for silencing witnesses, robbery, or preparing ritual materials.
With the limited spread of mysterious knowledge, most ordinary people didn’t even know what Extraordinary Professions existed within the Transcendent Path, nor did they even know the formal title “Demon Scholar.” Instead, they used the preconceived notion of “Sorcerer” as a general colloquial term, meaning “basically, he’s a sir who can cast spells.”
However, in reality, Demon Scholars did not have strong spellcasting abilities, and the types of spells they could use were quite limited.
They were far inferior to Mages of the Path of Wisdom, Necromancers of the Twilight Path, or Sages of the Path of Adaptation, and even inferior to Law Masters of the Path of Authority. The primary power of Demon Scholars came from “rituals” and “demons.” Many spells required reliance on rituals, pre-preparation, and their power far surpassed normal spells.
For example, Veronica’s “Cursed Infant” required an infant cursed to death as a ritual material. A ritual spell guided by a Second Tier Demon Scholar was powerful enough to threaten or even instantly kill a frontline profession of the Third Tier.
If they didn’t have suitable materials or a sufficiently powerful contracted demon, Demon Scholars would become very weak.
Conversely, if Demon Scholars planned in secret and prepared in advance, they could unleash destructive power far exceeding their own level.
Now, Eivass was in the open, while they were in the shadows.
If Eivass relied solely on his own Demon Scholar abilities to fight back, it would be a double disadvantage—not only would his identity be easily exposed, but he would also be completely unable to cooperate with his teammates.
He wouldn’t even be able to blend in. It would be difficult even to lie low.
Originally, Eivass had planned to quickly obtain the Priest Profession Level, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. He hadn’t even told his foster father about this yet, and Bishop Mathers had already thought of it.
In the morning, the Inspection Bureau called to make an appointment, stating they intended to visit Moriarty Manor in the evening. His foster father was quite pleased, mentioning something about issuing a commendation order to Eivass… but Eivass wasn’t particularly interested in that.
What good things could the Inspection Bureau offer? In the game, players ran around busy, but in the end, they gained nothing. All the benefits were divided among themselves.
Moreover, Eivass worried that Haina, that reckless fellow, might be the one coming again, arriving hours in advance. So he hadn’t dared to leave home all day.
He had originally planned to stay home and read with his sister.
However, at nine in the morning, he was summoned to the Great Cathedral of the Candle Holder by Bishop Mathers.
But now, Eivass felt no displeasure whatsoever, exhibiting an unusually devout and extremely serious demeanor.
—Just kidding, this was an Extraordinary Profession tutor!
And strictly speaking, he had taken a shortcut. Without passing the exam, without completing that long and tedious list of “recognition quests,” he had directly obtained the qualification to study Sacred Skills!
The old bishop slowly preached, “The so-called ‘Sacred Skills’ are the most practical, safest, and easiest-to-master Mystical Arts of the Path of Devotion, carefully selected by the Church based on the principles of ‘safety,’ ‘health,’ ‘ease of learning,’ and ‘benefiting others.’ After passing the corresponding qualification exam, a Bishop will freely impart the corresponding skill, teaching until it is mastered.”
I get it, it’s like the starter Pokémon. Charmander, Squirtle, Bulbasaur… emphasizing ease of use and raising them.
Eivass muttered inwardly, feeling impatient and eager.
Bishop Mathers continued unhurriedly, “There are four Sacred Skills that can be mastered by those below the Bishop rank.
“‘Praying,’ ‘Fire Sacrifice,’ ‘Illumination,’ and ‘Blessing.’ It is especially important to note that the essence of Mystical Arts should not be understood literally.”
The old bishop explained, “The so-called ‘Fire Sacrifice’ refers to a technique for strengthening the body and recovering oneself.
“A person’s life is like a candle, and the soul is the fire. We companions of the Path of Devotion share our light and fire. This also means that we will gradually become depleted.
“I deliberately put myself in this unhealthy state to demonstrate for you.”
As he spoke, the old bishop pointed to the unnaturally white hair at his temples.
Eivass knew what he was going to say but still nodded obediently.
Simply put, the spells of the Path of Devotion all burn one’s own blood.
Even healing involved burning one’s own blood to restore another’s health—in that case, the Path of Devotion must have a stable healing method.
This was the art of “Fire Sacrifice.”
“First, light a new candle. Any color is fine; it makes no difference—when you are skilled enough, carrying a pack of matches will suffice.”
The old bishop said, extending his left hand, “I don’t know how much you understand about mysterious knowledge, so I’ll start from the beginning.
“Among the five fingers of the two hands, the thumb symbolizes fire, the index finger symbolizes air, the middle finger symbolizes Aether, the ring finger is earth, and the little finger is water. There are two corresponding fingers for each of the four basic elements, while light and darkness are represented by the left and right hands respectively. Therefore, we usually use the left hand for Fire Sacrifice—and the elements of the Path of Devotion are light and fire, so our most important fingers are the left thumb and middle finger.
“Until you can use it proficiently and engrave it into your instinct, I do not recommend you perform any operations with your right hand.”
As he spoke, a white flame ignited on the old bishop’s left thumb, illuminating the candelabra before them.
A thick, long white candle had been placed there in advance. The radiance from its ignition instantly lit up the entire space.
“To help guide your first visualization, I specifically chose the brightest model,”
Bishop Mathers explained, signaling Oswald to push Eivass’s wheelchair closer.
“Come, raise your left hand. Do it with me…”
His movements were very slow. “Imagine that what is before you is not the candle flame within reach, but the distant golden sun.
“No matter how bright the flame before you is, you must imagine it shining with extremely brilliant radiance—a radiance that fills every corner of your vision, flooding your entire field of view, leaving no shadow whatsoever. Imagine it can penetrate your palm; even if your hand is open, it should be transparent like glass.”
Eivass did as he was told.
And as soon as he extended his hand.
A pop-up window suddenly appeared before his eyes:
[Samuel Mathers is teaching you “Fire Sacrifice.” Do you wish to spend 1 Public Experience to master this Mystical Art?]
The moment he saw this pop-up, Eivass froze for an instant, subconsciously looking at Bishop Mathers.
In the game, if a player acquired a Mystical Art through a quest—meaning, not through reading, but by maxing out an NPC’s personal favor and receiving one-on-one instruction—the experience required to learn that Mystical Art was directly proportional to the skill’s tier and inversely proportional to the instructor’s tier.
This meant that the easier the Mystical Art was to learn and the higher the instructor’s tier, the less experience the learner would need to spend.
In the game, this setting didn’t have much significance; it was merely a way to indirectly show how strong an NPC was. Because players generally didn’t lack that bit of experience—this damned game had no stamina limits, and the experience required to learn Mystical Arts wasn’t much.
However, when players discussed “who is stronger than whom” and “who can instantly kill whom” on online forums, they would use this as a basis to infer the corresponding Profession Level of that NPC.
When players learned Sacred Skills back then, they uniformly had to spend seven experience points to learn them—and the unnamed NPC who taught Eivass, no matter how weak, was at least a certain Bishop.
So, what was the situation with this old gentleman? He had such a high level in the 0.0 version, but why had Eivass never heard of him in the game?
—Damn it, he’s run into a hidden master.
Today’s chapter is over 6,000 characters. Please remember to follow the new book period.
