Chapter 648
Am I dying soon?
“…Uh.”
Eivass hesitated, unable to finish his sentence.
He gazed at the “final payment” bestowed by the Lord of Scales and Feathers, falling into a contemplative silence.
Under any circumstances, in any worldview, unconditional resurrection could be considered an exceptional trait. After all, it was a literal second life. In a true world, who wouldn’t want more revival armor? Even “Bear,” He would surely want this revival armor that dropped from His own corpse to help Him win a resurrection match.
Of course, Eivass would have been overjoyed to obtain this trait from anywhere else… any plans he had put on hold due to their dangerous nature could now be attempted, bolstered by a second life. It was akin to the saying, “You can’t play without being low on health”—conversely, having abundant health and life emboldens one.
But here was the problem: this reward came from the Lord of Scales and Feathers. The Lord of Scales and Feathers’ primary domain was prophecy and foresight, with astonishing accuracy. In retrospect, His Lordship could even foresee the future Fall of Pillar Gods and the developments of different worldlines. Such a powerful and enigmatic prophet had quietly, without warning, bestowed upon Eivass a piece of revival armor. This was especially significant after Eivass had mastered High-Tier Divine Arts, signed a contract with the Lord of Scales and Feathers, and completed the ritual. The implied message was clear: even if He were to fight on your behalf, it would be futile.
Eivass’s mind involuntarily conjured a crying cat meme:
—Am I dying soon?
“…But looking on the bright side, this can be considered the Lord of Scales and Feathers declaring He will interfere with the future.”
Eivass consoled himself. If the Lord of Scales and Feathers were the type to respect the future and choose to stand by, or actively participate in its self-fulfillment, He might have offered Eivass a different reward, or a subtle hint. The fact that He gave Eivass revival armor indicated that He at least wished for Eivass to survive—in other words, since He only provided one piece of revival armor, perhaps the crisis wouldn’t be too severe. It wouldn’t present a challenge that Eivass couldn’t overcome even with multiple lives.
“Your expression… is quite telling,” Sherlock said, placing a hand on Eivass’s arm and remarking, “It’s as if you’re greatly startled but trying hard to convince yourself that everything is fine—like you just got off a roller coaster. What exactly did you see in the ritual?”
“That’s a long story…”
Eivass shook his head, his voice hoarse, and took two slow steps forward with Sherlock’s support. Even this slight exertion caused his heart to pound fiercely. Due to prolonged fasting and abstinence from water, his body was in an extremely weakened state—a deliberate measure Eivass undertook for the intense Ascension Ritual. Now, it proved his caution was indeed justified. Had he not consumed the Drunken Dream T and performed this ritual sacrifice, Eivass would likely have been trembling uncontrollably and jolted awake from his dream the moment he looked directly at Supreme Heaven.
Seeing Eivass’s pale face, Sherlock pondered for a moment before taking a vial of red potion from the belt at his waist and handing it to Eivass. “Have some of this first.”
Eivass took the potion without question and, tilting his head back, drank it down. He laved his lips and moistened his dry mouth, feeling a fiery liquid, tasting like sweet wine-soaked dates, flow down his throat. A potent warmth accompanied by life force surged into every limb and extremity, instantly restoring color to Eivass’s formerly ashen complexion.
“…Vitality Potion? When did you buy that?” Eivass asked casually. Even his previously hoarse voice had returned to normal.
“Yulia made it,” Sherlock shrugged. “Although it was for me, it was prepared for you.”
“Why didn’t she give it to me directly?” Eivass instinctively asked.
“She said if she gave it to you directly, you might never use it. I don’t know what our honored Lord Moriarty is usually saving all his consumables for,” Sherlock said with a light, sarcastic tone.
Eivass coughed lightly and nonchalantly replied, “Well… that’s true.” Unless it was absolutely necessary and he had developed the habit, Eivass simply disliked using consumables. When he used to play games, he would hoard consumables regardless of the game. He was reluctant to discard them, felt they might be useful later if sold, but then he would forget about them in his inventory or hesitate to use them even when he remembered. If there were two identical consumables, one slightly more effective than the other, he’d tend to use up the less effective one first. However, by the time he finished the less effective ones, his level would have increased, and he would have acquired better ones. So, he would then use the relatively less effective batch, starting with the worse ones. It was like an elderly person eating fruit: when new fruit and fruit that was about to spoil were placed together, the fruit that was about to spoil would always be eaten first, and by the time it was finished, the new fruit would also be nearing spoilage.
“I’ll go check on Lily’s situation first.”
Feeling his body gradually energized, Eivass strode towards the exit, calling back at Sherlock without looking, “Please help clean up the ritual space.”
“Take this with you first.”
Sherlock’s voice came from behind, followed by the sound of something cutting through the air. Eivass, without turning his head, reached out and caught the object in his hand. He paused slightly upon realizing what it was. It was a small vanity mirror. What did this mean?
—You want me to transform?
“Just in case,” Sherlock’s languid voice replied. “I recall you have some mirror-related abilities, and Miss Lily’s room doesn’t have any mirrors. Hurry up and get ready. We might be able to go out for a late-night snack before dawn. I need to catch up on sleep.”
“I thought you never got tired,” Eivass said, glancing back slightly with a hint of surprise. “After all, you were up all night researching in Avalon, weren’t you?”
“It’s different from that simple, mechanical research. Grimoires are quite brain-taxing. To ensure efficiency and safety, one must have ample energy to read them. Watching over your ritual has already cost me an entire night… I can’t afford to waste any more time.” Sherlock yawned, seemingly unbothered. “Mainly… you all are either finishing new Grimoires or completing your advancements. …This makes me feel that if I don’t get more serious, I might fall behind you.”
“—As expected,” Eivass chuckled lightly. “That’s just like you.” He had already guessed Sherlock’s thoughts. Sherlock was undoubtedly very proud. Apart from his brother, he had rarely acknowledged anyone else in his life. But Eivass had now passed the test of High-Tier Divine Arts, becoming the terrestrial agent of the Lord of Scales and Feathers. He was just a step away from becoming a Cardinal of the Church. And how old was Eivass this year? He had just recently celebrated his birthday and was now barely nineteen. How old was Sherlock? His birthday was January 6th, and he was now twenty-eight. If Eivass becoming a ministerial department head could be attributed to luck—tied to his surname “Moriarty” and his chance encounter with Princess Isabel in a dream—Sherlock might not have reacted much even when Eivass contacted the Fourth Tier… after all, he had already reached that level, but he himself had refused the possibility of ascending to the Fourth Tier via the Path of Authority. But Eivass now being at the Fourth Tier in both Paths, about to become the first Human Cardinal of the Church—this was undeniable, outstanding talent. Extraordinary. He was a true star. Sherlock would never be jealous of others… that was his pride and self-respect. Once he truly recognized Eivass’s excellence, acknowledging that Eivass surpassed him, Sherlock became genuinely serious. Although he still appeared relaxed and casual on the outside, Eivass felt that the genius’s mindset had completely changed—he had truly placed himself in the position of a “learner” and a “pursuer,” setting aside his pride and starting to learn anew.
“Let’s do our best.”
Eivass encouraged him, then ascended the stairs, playing with the mirror. Lily was on the second floor, undergoing the separation ritual for her Ovulatory Grimoire.
(End of Chapter)
