Chapter 687: Ritual

If it weren't for Frank's superhuman imagination and execution, his talent on the "Sower" path would actually be quite good. Fortunately, he currently has no intention of further promotion; otherwise I'd have to consider whether to keep him on the "Future" ship, for the sake of the crew and the ship's safety.

If one day he becomes a "Classical Alchemist", perhaps then the crew vote of the "Star Pirates" will have more than one mushroom casting a solemn vote.

Reining in the constantly scattering thoughts in her mind, Jia De Li Ya chatted with Frank for a while, then turned back to her captain's cabin.

In Silver City, within the sealed space at the base of the Round Tower, the chief of the Six‑Person Council, Colin Iliat, stood before the altar already prepared.

On the altar, in the correct positions and order, six kinds of powerful creature remains he had once hunted were placed, including artificial vampires and demons of semi‑god level.

These are the monsters of darkness he has hunted over the years; the special environment of Silver City makes the first half of this ceremony unusually simple—he doesn't even need to hunt additional beasts, just select six from his previous trophies.

Behind him, half of the council members gathered a hundred meters away, restraining their aura, eyes focused and tense as they watched Colin Iliat prepare the ritual.

Standing before the complex altar he himself had arranged, Colin Iliat let out a long breath and, in Giant language, softly recited the honored name of the "Fool":

"The Fool not of this age, the mysterious sovereign above the gray mist, the yellow‑black king who commands good fortune."

As the prayer fell, above the gray mist, Klein, already prepared, spread his spirit to touch the newly appearing deep‑red star.

He held the Fool's card in his right hand, reached into a cluttered pile in the hall corner and summoned a crudely cut paper figure, leveraged the Source Fortress power above the gray mist into it, then flung it away.

The paper figure expanded and twisted rapidly in mid‑air, becoming a mysterious angel bearing twelve pairs of gray‑white wings, cloaked in a black robe with a hood, and merged into the deep‑red star representing Colin Iliat.

Having done all that, he reached for the sea‑god scepter on the table, and using this wondrous artifact caused the surrounding gray mist to surge violently, displaying an aura of lofty rank and depth, linking to the star radiating deep‑red light, and projecting the image of the "Fool" into the eyes of the chief of Silver City's Six‑Person Council.

After completing everything, Klein let out a long sigh, sank back into the high‑back chair belonging to the "Fool", and remarked, "This is more exhausting than a fight; it's all to preserve Mr. Fool's image."

At the base of the Round Tower, Colin Iliat, mid‑ritual, suddenly saw endless gray mist surge from the void.

A towering figure, indescribable yet seeming to look down on all beings and the world, stood within the dense gray mist; its outline was vague, but its overwhelming aura could be felt, like the endless darkness beyond Silver City.

He sensed a gaze from that indescribable height falling upon him, vaguely seeing himself surrounded, clustered, and blessed by the gray mist.

"Praise you, merciful Mr. Fool!"

Colin Iliat quickly regained composure, steadied his thoughts, bowed solemnly, then produced the pre‑prepared ingredients, mixed them into a silvery potion, inhaled deeply and drank it in one gulp.

At that moment, behind Colin Iliat, the elders of Silver City's Six‑Person Council, serving as safety guarantees, all held their breath.

If the chief's promotion succeeds, they may later become "Silver Knights", giving Silver City a greater chance of finding a way out of this darkness.

Time ticked by second by second, an indeterminate span later, Colin Iliat, standing on the altar, shifted.

The next instant, his whole body melted into a pool of flowing silver metal, raced to the side of the council elders, the viscous mercury surged and reconstituted Colin Iliat's body.

He looked at the wary, hesitant crowd, smiled lightly and nodded, "I am already a Silver Knight."

The council elders were silent for a second, then simultaneously broke into sincere, heartfelt smiles.

Above the gray mist, Klein, who had been watching this scene, also nodded, cutting off the image of the deep‑red radiance.

He let out a long breath, leaned back against the chair, and muttered, "Now that we have a Silver Knight, Silver City should soon begin exploring the Giant King's Court."

"When the time comes, let Little Sun pray to me in advance, so I can watch the whole live broadcast, and if necessary, lend a hand, uh, if I have time."

"The situation in Luen is worsening; on the southern continent's battlefield, the Storm Lord was injured unexpectedly, so Fusak will surely intensify the invasion, and the Goddess's pressure spikes instantly. He is now unable to intervene in reality, and the battlefield may soon be compressed into Luen's territory."

"Sometimes the one who defeats you isn't an opponent but a pig teammate; the Goddess currently has such a teammate."

He whispered a few sighs, preparing to leave above the gray mist; the deep‑red star representing Rekton expanded and contracted, sending out concentric deep‑red ripples. Klein's eyelids twitched; he felt he would receive some surprise.

He took a deep breath, spreading his spirit to touch that deep‑red star.

The next second, wave after wave of massive, tangled information formed an illusory torrent that surged wildly through the palace above the gray mist.

Klein's complexion darkened; he reached into mid‑air, grasped the intangible information, pinching it so it could no longer flow, then leveraged the Source Fortress power above the gray mist to restore the data to its normal state.

Soon, a pile of dark, shriveled mushrooms lay on the mottled bronze table; their varieties and the different effects they possess were now in his grasp.

"This kind of data‑shaping ability is quite powerful; it can even forge normal information and propagate along existing or newly formed connections. The spirit‑line should also be a type of link and can be breached."

"In the future, we must beware such extraordinary abilities; this kind of information attack is hard to detect and stop."

He muttered softly twice, refocused on the mushroom pile; beyond admiring Frank's execution, he didn't know what else to sigh about.

"At least, for the wondrous Silver City, these mushrooms are still quite necessary."

"With the war's outbreak, food supplies began to be regulated; without the Earth Mother Church's line, the White Tower and the Hermit might have already cut off food shipments to Silver City."

While sighing, he transformed the mushroom data into light and shadow and tossed it into the deep‑red star representing Dairik (Sun).

"Perhaps mushrooms will become one of the southern continent's pillar industries in the future."

He whispered oddly, and Klein's figure swiftly turned transparent, vanishing within the ancient, grand palace above the gray mist.

In the captain's cabin of the "Dawn" ship, still moored at the pier on the north bank of the Pas Valley's Oleson Port.

Crimson moonlight poured over the entire cabin; Rekton and Russell stood before a full‑length mirror erected in the corner, their gazes calmly fixed on the glass.

After a moment of silence, Russell, a bit skeptical, said, "You directly simulated a full‑moon effect and then used the mirror to contact Mr. Door; you're quite practiced. I recall I didn't record any method of contacting Mr. Door in my diary, right?"

"This knowledge isn't secret; if I wish, finding it wouldn't be too hard."

Rekton gave a brief explanation, but Russell wasn't convinced: "Don't try to fool anyone; I was once the 'Knowledge Emperor', so I'm not unfamiliar with this. The abilities you've shown in some aspects have already surpassed the realm of the Knowledge Emperor."

Rekton didn't pursue the topic; he reached into mid‑air, and some information materialized, rapidly coalescing in his hand and transforming into a drop of bright red blood.

Russell clicked his tongue and, in an odd tone, said:

"For example, this ability to turn illusory knowledge into tangible, effective things—when I was still the 'Knowledge Emperor' I couldn't do it, unless the thing was already a real entity transformed into an information stream."

"If you envy it, you can return to that path; I can let you also gain this ability."

Rekton turned his head toward Russell and earnestly proposed.

Russell snorted disdainfully, "Do you think I'd choose a sequence without resurrection armor?"

Rekton shrugged, ceased the idle talk; with his current sequence, this ability to materialize information is similar to the historical projection of an 'Ancient Scholar' and cannot be sustained indefinitely.

He smeared that drop of pure‑information‑turned‑red blood onto the mirror, drawing a layered illusory Door sigil, while softly reciting Mr. Door's honored name: "Great Gate of Ten Thousand Doors, guide of the boundless starry sky, key to all mysterious realms."

Leaning against the corner, the full‑length mirror's surface suddenly deepened, as countless faint, overlapping "Doors" stacked within, opening a passage to the depths of darkness and storm.

A ghostly blue radiance flowed from the mirror's interior, outlining one door after another, as if countless invisible, indescribable dangers were spawning within.

(End of Chapter)