prynovel Chapter 219 Summoning the Messenger
Chapter 219 Summoning the Messenger
Chapter 219 Summoning the Messenger
Cry!
A sudden gust of cold wind swept through the room, carrying a trembling, weeping sound, and the flickering, dim candlelight was tinged with a ghostly blue hue.
Then the flame of the third candle suddenly expanded, and rings of light spread out rapidly, gradually forming an illusory door that was beyond the normal concept.
Cyril looked curiously behind the "door," and his powerful spiritual intuition and the ability to see through dimensions to some extent allowed him to see some scenes behind the "door."
There were strange shadows looming down from above; there were also a group of bizarre spirit creatures, thin as paper and brightly colored; and there were transparent tentacles that had been reduced to mere outlines.
Then, they all stopped near the summoning gate formed by the ritual power, lingering there as if they couldn't find a "gate" to respond to the summons.
**:** "You're quite popular, aren't you? Spirit beings, astral beings, and even strange species from other dimensions."
Cyril nodded, looking troubled. "They're popular, that's true, but now they all seem to be lost?"
**: "Don't you have to queue up when applying for a job? Maybe these are queuing up."
"Um...maybe." Cyril nodded uncertainly.
He then frowned and looked around the empty room, feeling as if he had forgotten something, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
...Never mind, since I can't remember, it must be something unimportant. Let's think about the messenger problem first.
**: What do you plan to do with the messengers?
Cyril replied, "Of course, it's for delivering messages. And, if we're strong enough, we can help with the fighting too."
**:** "So what are your requirements for the messenger?"
After thinking for a moment, Xireen replied:
"Able to communicate normally, a friendly presence, fast enough, and preferably with considerable strength; also, it would be best if they were handsome!"
**:** "I can do all of these."
"Oh... um?!"
Cyril's calm eyes gradually widened, as if a taut string had snapped in his mind, memories flashing back repeatedly. He finally realized, belatedly, that something was amiss.
In the room where the ceremony was being arranged, there was only himself and a talking scroll; there was no third person present.
At least not until he completed the ritual to summon the messenger!
After quietly replacing his own image with a self-portrait he carried with him, he carefully looked around, searching for the extra person in the room.
He soon spotted the extra person in front of the wall where the screaming painting was hanging.
It was an old man whose entire body was gray except for his pale gold eyes. His long robe had a stone-like feel, as if it were carved from marble, and his thin, dull hair and beard almost reached the ground.
His face was withered and his body was so thin that only skin and bones remained. His whole body exuded an aura of decay and decay, as if he would weather away and disappear into the air at any moment.
As if sensing Cyril's gaze, he turned his head and smiled and nodded in Cyril's direction:
"So, have you decided whether you want me to be your messenger?"
Cyril hesitated before asking, "Are you really here as a messenger?"
The old man with the withered manuscript in front of him smiled and nodded: "Of course, otherwise why would I respond to your ceremony?"
Sirion nodded hesitantly... This old man was somewhat strange; at the very least, he was still at the Saint level of the "spectator" path, but this path was not good at speed.
Moreover, given the overwhelming sense of decay emanating from the other person, he seriously doubted whether having them deliver the letter would result in them collapsing in front of the recipient, turning the delivery into a staged accident.
He paused for a moment, then asked, "So... are you fast enough?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the withered old man in front of him disappeared like a phantom, and at the same time a thin, grayish-white hand landed on his shoulder.
Spiritual intuition offers no warning or hints, as if one is completely unaware of the presence of someone behind them.
At least he's at the level of a "dream weaver"... Xi Ruien lowered his eyes, then turned around and saw the old man with the withered manuscript standing behind him with a smile on his face.
"While I can't compare to those 'travelers,' I don't think my speed is too bad, after all..."
Somewhat curious, Sirien pressed further, "After all what?"
The old man shook his head slightly, without answering the question.
Seeing this, Sirion stopped asking and changed the subject:
"Shouldn't you have enough spirituality to pay for delivering the message?"
The old man with the withered manuscript nodded slightly: "Indeed, I don't need spirituality."
Cyril pressed further, "So what do you need, or what do you want to get?"
The old man did not answer directly, but instead walked to the side and took down the screaming scroll hanging on the wall.
As for the distorted figure in the painting, it was quietly curled up in a corner of the painting when Cyril noticed it.
The old man looked at the huddled figure in the painting and nodded in satisfaction.
"I want this pollution, or rather, this blessing, in it."
"Of course, simply delivering messages in exchange for favors is not enough, so you can hire me to fight for you when needed."
A flicker of surprise crossed Sirion's eyes, but he quickly concealed it, calmly observing the other person.
He was now certain that the old man was not a demigod, but an angel, specifically an angel from the "spectator" pathway!
But... even if they are angels, why would they want to pollute themselves? Have they lived too long and want to add some excitement to their boring lives?
The thought had barely crossed my mind when the old man with the withered manuscript in front of me replied:
"I have indeed lived a long time, but my long life has not made me feel bored or want to end it."
"On the contrary, I want to continue living and prolong my life."
After a moment's thought, Cyril nodded and replied:
"If that's all you need, then yes, that's fine."
The old man smiled and nodded: "Then let's sign the contract."
"By the way, please don't tell Adam about my existence, or any other related beings."
He paused, then added, "He's not paying attention here now, and he won't need to worry about it in the future. I have ways to avoid his gaze."
"Can."
Cyril nodded, then suddenly paused in the act of drafting the contract... If he didn't seek Adam's help, who should serve as the witness to the contract?
"If you're willing to believe me, I can resolve the witness's problem."
Upon hearing this, Sirion immediately handed the half-written parchment to the other person.
After the old man reached out and took it, a clear golden light shone from his pale golden eyes. The golden light grew purer and purer, eventually transforming into a projection like a seal.
On the parchment on which the contract was drafted, golden light, like interwoven threads, outlined a seal magnified several times, then froze, becoming a brand.
"Alright." The old man handed the completed contract back.
Sirion frowned as he took the item, his gaze carefully examining the elderly man, who was entirely gray-white.
He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but the old man with the withered manuscript in front of him seemed a little older than before.
But those pale gold eyes were exceptionally bright; he could even see his own reflection in them.
...Moreover, "notarization" is an ability belonging to the "Sun" pathway. If it has not been switched pathways before, then it has been contaminated by the "Chaos Sea".
Considering that the other party didn't want Adam to discover his presence, Sirion guessed that the old man was most likely the second type.
So, they want to use my pollution to fight against the pollution of the "Chaotic Sea" on my body. Isn't that giving me too much credit?
Another question is, how did they discover that I'm special?
As his thoughts drifted, he saw the old man with withered manuscripts in front of him smile gently at him, a glint of light flashing in his clear, pale golden eyes.
After a moment of disorientation, he seemed to enter a third-person perspective, watching a fragment of his memory in a peculiar way. It was an island standing on a deep, dark sea, with waves surging around it, like the prelude to an approaching storm.
A few breaths later, an invisible force calmed everything down, and all the storms subsided.
Beneath the all-encompassing spiritual sky, a greyish-white, swirling dragon with a lizard-like face that exuded a distinct sense of age flew over the island.
A warm, aged voice echoed behind:
"No need to look anymore. I was just a passerby who happened to pass through your inner world, saw a little tide, and casually smoothed it out."
Coming to his senses, Sirion looked at the withered old man in front of him with a puzzled expression.
Clearly, the other person was the same pedestrian who had passed through his inner world and brought him "comfort".
"So it was you back then. So, you knew about my special status back then?"