Lord of the Mysteries Chapter 5 - Ritual

Zhou Mingrui muttered to himself, resolving that he would decline any extra services, regardless of what they were. He would firmly resist every single one of them.

With this firm intention, he trailed behind the woman, whose features were heavily painted in red and yellow, as she ducked into the dimly lit tent.

The interior was encased in shadow, broken only by thin slivers of light filtering through the fabric. Through the gloom, he could just discern a table laden with scattered cards.

The fortune-teller, adorned in her pointed cap, seemed perfectly at ease in the darkness. Her long black gown swept across the ground like flowing water as she circled the table. Taking her seat on the other side, she struck a match to light a candle.

The flickering, jaundiced flame cast a dancing light that made the tent feel both vivid and oppressive. It instantly infused the space with a palpable aura of mystery.

Zhou Mingrui sat down silently, his eyes scanning the tarot cards spread before him. He spotted several familiar archetypes like “The Magician,” “The Emperor,” “The Hanged Man,” and “Temperance.”

Zhou Mingrui whispered to himself, lost in thought.

Before he could finish examining the cards face-up on the table, the woman—who boasted of her uncanny accuracy—reached out to gather them together. She shuffled them into a pile and slid the deck toward him.

“Shuffle the cards yourself, then cut the deck,” instructed the circus performer in a hushed tone.

“Me? I need to shuffle?” Zhou Mingrui asked, taken aback.

The vivid paint on the woman’s face wrinkled into a faint smirk. “Of course. A person's fate can only be unveiled by their own hand. I am merely the interpreter.”

Zhou Mingrui immediately narrowed his eyes, asking guardedly, “This reading doesn't come with any hidden costs, does it?”

The fortune-teller blinked, clearly caught off guard, before muttering, “It is free of charge.”

Feeling relieved, Zhou Mingrui shifted his revolver deeper into his pocket. He then reached out with both hands and expertly shuffled and cut the cards.

“It is done.” He placed the deck in the center of the table.

The fortune-teller pressed her palms against the pile, studying it intently for a few seconds. Suddenly, she looked up and said, “My apologies, I neglected to ask: what is the nature of your inquiry?”

Back when he was courting his first love, Zhou Mingrui had dabbled in some research regarding tarot. Without hesitation, he replied, “The past, present, and future.”

This was a standard divination technique: three cards laid out sequentially to represent the journey through time.

The fortune-teller nodded, her lips curling into a smile. “Then please, shuffle the deck once more. You can only draw the proper cards if you possess clarity in your question.”

Zhou Mingrui’s jaw tightened. Taking a deep breath, he collected the deck to shuffle and cut it again.

“Everything is in order now, right?” He set the cut deck back onto the wood.

“Quite right.” The fortune-teller extended her fingers and drew the topmost card, placing it to Zhou Mingrui’s left. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “This card signifies your past.”

“This card signifies your present.” She laid the second card directly in front of him.

Finally, she drew a third card and set it to his right.

“This card signifies your future.”

“Now, which would you like to reveal first?” Settling back, the fortune-teller fixed her grayish-blue eyes intently upon him.

“I will start with the ‘present’,” Zhou Mingrui said after a moment’s reflection.

She nodded slowly and flipped the card sitting directly before him.

It depicted a brightly dressed wanderer wearing a ragged cap, carrying a bundle on a stick over his shoulder, with a small dog trailing at his heels. The card bore the number “0.”

“The Fool,” the fortune-teller murmured, her gaze locked onto Zhou Mingrui.

Since he was hardly a student of the occult, his ability to interpret the card was limited to his own surface-level impressions.

Just as she prepared to offer her analysis, the curtain of the tent was abruptly thrown open. A surge of blinding sunlight flooded in, forcing Zhou Mingrui to squint as he turned away.

“Why are you masquerading as me again? Divination is my responsibility!” a voice barked with sharp irritation. “Return to your post immediately! Do not forget that your role is the animal trainer!”

Once his eyes adjusted to the glare, Zhou Mingrui saw a woman remarkably similar to the first, wearing the same pointed hat and black robes, her face painted in identical red and yellow motifs. This one, however, was taller and leaner.

The woman sitting before him jumped up, looking annoyed. “Don’t mind her; I simply enjoy this. Besides, I must say, my interpretations can be surprisingly accurate. I mean it...”

With those words, she gathered her skirts and hurried around the table, ducking quickly out of the tent.

“Sir, would you like me to read your cards instead?” the real fortune-teller asked with a polite smile.

Zhou Mingrui’s mouth twitched, and he asked with genuine concern, “Is it free?”

“...No,” she replied.

“Then never mind.” Zhou Mingrui withdrew his hands, stuffed them into his pockets, gripped his revolver, and exited the tent without looking back.

Zhou Mingrui brushed the incident aside almost immediately. At the ‘Lettuce and Meat’ market, he spent seven pence on a pound of mediocre mutton. He added broad beans, cabbage, onions, and potatoes to his haul. With the bread he’d acquired earlier, the total expense came to 25 copper pennies, or two soli and one pence.

“Money never seems to last long. Poor Benson...” Since he had already spent the two banknotes he brought, he was forced to dip into the solitary penny left in his pocket. He sighed, pushed the thought aside, and hurried home.

With his provisions secured, he could finally attempt the luck enhancement ritual!

After the other tenants on the second floor had cleared out, Zhou Mingrui still waited for a moment. He translated the phrase “Blessings Stem From The Immortal Lord of Heaven and Earth” into both ancient Feysac and the Loen language. He planned to test the ritual with these versions the following day if the original incantation proved ineffective.

Ultimately, one had to respect the cultural nuances of a new world. When in Rome, do as the Romans do!

As for translating the prayer into the archaic Hermes language, he struggled, hampered by his limited vocabulary.

Once everything was prepared, he produced the four loaves of rye bread. He placed one where the coal stove usually sat, one at the base of his mirror, one on top of his cupboard in the corner, and the final one on the right side of his desk.

After steadying his breathing, he stood in the center of the room, taking a few moments to center his focus. He began to pace in a square formation, moving counter-clockwise.

With his first step, he whispered, “Blessings Stem From The Immortal Lord of Heaven and Earth.”

At his second step, he chanted sincerely, “Blessings Stem From The Sky Lord of Heaven and Earth.”

At his third step, he articulated softly, “Blessings Stem From The Exalted Thearch of Heaven and Earth.”

With his fourth step, he exhaled a ragged breath, concentrating deeply: “Blessings Stem From The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth.”

Upon returning to his starting position, Zhou Mingrui shut his eyes and waited, his heart a mixture of anticipation, anxiety, and dread.

The vast unknown before him was tinted with the crimson glow of hope. His mind was a labyrinth of circling thoughts that he found impossible to silence.

Then, suddenly, the very air seemed to thicken and grow heavy, as if time itself had ground to a halt.

Almost immediately, a low, unintelligible murmur coiled around his ears—at times sounding grounded, then sharp, then ethereal, and then descending into a manic, maddening cacophony.

He could not parse the meaning of the whispers, yet he felt an irresistible, primal compulsion to listen and comprehend.

A searing pain flared in his skull, as if a steel spike were being driven into his brain.

Zhou Mingrui felt as though he were on the verge of splintering. His consciousness was flooded with a psychedelic kaleidoscope of colors.

Recognizing the danger, he struggled to open his eyes, but even that simple act was beyond his grasp.

His body felt like it was being compressed, ready to shatter at any moment. A flash of self-deprecating irony crossed his mind: “If you don’t seek death, you won’t die...”

He could barely hold on. Just as his psyche reached its breaking point, the murmuring evaporated, leaving the room in a heavy, erratic silence.

The shift wasn’t only in the atmosphere; he felt his physical self undergoing a similar, jarring transformation.

Once more, he reached for his eyelids, and this time, the task was effortless.

A gray mist filled his vision—hazy, vast, and endless.

“What is happening?” Zhou Mingrui gazed around, only to look down and realize he was hovering above this infinite expanse of fog.

The mist surged like a slow-moving ocean, dotted with countless crimson ‘stars.’ Some were massive, while others were mere glimmers—some hidden in the deep, others resting upon the surface.

Surveying this holographic reality, Zhou Mingrui reached out in a state of confusion to touch one of the larger crimson stars, hoping to find a path out of this place.

As his fingers grazed the light, a ripple surged through him, causing the star to burst into a flurry of motion. It glittered like a dream of burning embers.

Startled, Zhou Mingrui recoiled, accidentally brushing against a second crimson star.

It, too, erupted in a brilliant display of light. Suddenly, his mind went blank, and his consciousness began to dissipate.

In the capital city of Backlund, within the Loen Kingdom, a lavish villa stood in the royal district. Audrey Hall sat before an antique dresser, her gaze fixed on a cracked bronze mirror.

“Mirror, mirror, awaken...

“In the name of the House of Hall, I command you to wake!”

She exhausted numerous incantations, but the mirror remained cold and inert.

After ten minutes, she finally despaired, pouting as she muttered, “Father surely lied to me. He keeps insisting this glass belonged to the Dark Emperor and possesses extraordinary power...”

Her voice faded as the bronze mirror on the dresser suddenly ignited, casting a crimson glow that enveloped her entirely.

Out on the Sonia Sea, a weathered, three-masted schooner fought its way through a tempest.

Alger Wilson stood firmly on the deck, his body swaying with the rhythm of the waves to maintain his balance.

He wore a robe embroidered with lightning motifs, and he clutched a peculiar glass vial. Within it, bubbles shifted into frost, which then dissolved into gusts of wind.

“We are still lacking the blood of the Ghost Shark...” Alger murmured.

In that moment, a crimson flare ignited in the air between the bottle and his palm, instantly washing over everything around him.

Deep within the gray mist, Audrey Hall blinked, trying to regain her bearings. She stared in shock as she noticed the vague, shimmering figure of a man across from her, who appeared just as lost as she was.

Moments later, they both spotted a third mysterious figure, cloaked by the thick, gray fog.

The ‘mysterious person’ was none other than Zhou Mingrui, who was equally stunned.

“Sir, where is this place?”

Audrey and Alger were caught off guard and fell silent, before they turned and asked in unison,

“What are you trying to do?”