Ansel sat quietly, his brow furrowed in confusion. Mr. McVeigh's words swirled around him like a dense fog, impenetrable and mysterious. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp the meaning behind the old man's cryptic explanation.
Mr. McVeigh sighed softly and leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of patience and urgency.
Mr. McVeigh said, his voice gentler now. "You know the human realm and the Immortal realm have a time difference. All the things you touch and carry in the Immortal realm will evaporate when you take them to the human realm. There is a way to fix it. You can spend time in the Immortal realm into the human realm."
Ansel's heart quickened. The idea was intoxicating, to manipulate time, to cross realms without losing what he carried. He asked eagerly. "Do you know how?"
Mr. McVeigh's expression darkened. "Of course not. Remember one thing. Never to do it! Even if you already know how to do it !!!"
"Why not?" Ansel pressed, curiosity burning brighter than caution.
Mr. McVeigh warned, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You have to pay dearly for that? More than just your life."
Ansel frowned, unconvinced. "But it seems like you know how to do it."
Mr. McVeigh's gaze softened slightly. He said, nodding toward Ansel's injured fingers. "Treat your hands first."
Ansel glanced down. His hand was still dripping with blood, the bandage soaked through and useless. The deep crimson stained the cloth, spreading like a dark bloom.
"Okay, I will treat it first. Afterwards, you must tell me ." He said, standing up.
Without hesitation, Ansel hurried upstairs to the small medicine cabinet. It only took a few minutes and he couldn't wait to know how to stop the time.
"Grandpa, tell me now." Ansel said, sitting down again.
He opened the medicine box. He rummaged through it, pulling out ointments, clean bandages, and antiseptic.
The wound was deep, but strangely, he felt no pain. His heart felt frozen, numb to the injury as if his very spirit was on pause. Within minutes, his hand was wrapped securely, the bleeding staunched.
Mr. McVeigh took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Every object is brought in the Immortal realm can never be brought into the human realm. There is a way, to make Naphula covenant."
Ansel's eyes narrowed. "Naphula? What is it?"
Mr. McVeigh's voice lowered, as if revealing a secret too dangerous for the light of day. "He's just a beast. Naphula is similar to Griffin. He has a lion's head. He was the only one who can help you bring objects from the Immortal realm to the human realm as a whole. Usually, He will give Zira Lantern."
Ansel's mind raced. "So the thing she brought was Zira Lantern. I remembered the shape. It seems like a fairy who carries a flower. It can emit light."
Slowly, understanding dawned within him. There was no true way to stop time. It was an illusion, a crossing of time itself. The secret lay not in halting the flow but in shifting it.
Ansel murmured, his voice tinged with awe. "Now I understand she seems to like to stop the time. When Zira Lantern is on she turns human realm time into immortal realm Time. Time in the Immortal realm runs slower than the human realm."
When she turned on Zira Lantern, everyone would never be able to see her. In other cases, she was fast like a wind. Afterward, she would not be able to see it.
Only Ansel can see her. Because he was Shenmorta.
Mr. McVeigh confirmed. "Now you understand she doesn't stop time. But she turn time in the human realm into the Immortal realm. To get it, it is more than selling your own soul. That's why you can't do it."
Ansel's mind raced. The price must be unimaginable. He asked, voice barely above a whisper. "What exactly must be paid?"
"200 human souls." Mr McVeigh said curtly.
The number struck Ansel like a blow. One soul was a terrible sacrifice, how could anyone pay two hundred? The thought chilled him to the bone.
Mr. McVeigh continued. "Naphula has 200 wings. Both the right and left are 100. Naphula's strength is in the wings. So she needs 200 human souls. It will make the wings sparkle and increase the strength."
However, if you made an agreement with Naphula 200 human souls, it was a simple thing to do. Since the covenant, fate has been arranged. How to get it with just one slash.
Ansel's thoughts turned to Heka. "Grandpa, I thought about what happened to Heka because of her."
"But, you have to ensure to make it clear." Mr. McVeigh cautioned.
"I have tried it. It's hard to meet her. When I saw her, she always used Zira Lantern." Ansel said, frustration crept into his voice.
"What do you see? Do you see that you are going to meet her again for sure?" Mr. McVeigh leaned forward, his voice steady and encouraging.
Ansel closed his eyes, recalling the visions that had haunted him. "I do meet her, but at the last second. After it's all over."
"Then what do you doubt?" Mr McVeigh asked. He smiled faintly.
Ansel opened his eyes, resolve shining through. "Nothing."
Mr McVeigh saw the bandage untied by itself. Hence, Mr. McVeigh carefully helped Ansel wrap the bandage around his wound, his hands steady and practiced.
"You must try to be patient. Everything has its own time. You won't be able to change the time. What will happen the day after tomorrow, never happens tomorrow." He said softly, his voice carrying the weight of years and wisdom.
Ansel nodded slowly, the truth of those words settling deep within him. Grandpa was right. Patience was not just a virtue but a necessity. No matter how much he wished to speed things up, to force the future to reveal itself, he had to wait.
And waiting was exhausting. The visions that plagued him, the fragments of a future he could neither control nor fully understand. It was a relentless reminder to stay focused. For Ansel, distraction was a dangerous luxury he could not afford.
"You're right. For what to make the time runs faster if you know it will obviously happen." Ansel murmured, his voice tinged with quiet resolve.
Mr. McVeigh stood up, his movements deliberate. He reached for Viorenving, the ancient artifact that had been entrusted to Ansel. He said. "Let me keep Viorenving first. Afterward, it is your responsibility."
Ansel watched as Mr. McVeigh approached the small altar where a candle still flickered, its flame dancing in the dim light.
The old man carefully took the candle, gathering it with reverence. It was no ordinary candle now. It was a wishful candle, a symbol of hope and prayer. Closing his eyes, Mr. McVeigh whispered a prayer, his voice barely audible but filled with earnest longing.
He prayed. "My Lord, I pray for Viorenving. I hope that the Guardian Spirit can establish a good relationship with me. We will protect each other, help each other and support each other. Everything we will do together, it will be resolved. Then, no one gets hurt. Especially, the one who should not be hurt."
When he opened his eyes, he gently blew out the candle, the smoke curling upward like a silent promise.
Ansel felt something shift within him. The presence of Viorenving and the Guardian Spirit seemed to awaken something long dormant. His frozen heart, once as cold and unyielding as ice, began to thaw slowly, imperceptibly.
The chill that had numbed his emotions, that had made him distant and detached like Hansel, was retreating. For the first time in a long while, warmth seeped back into his soul.
Curiosity stirred within him. What kind of Guardian Spirit could melt a heart so deeply frozen? What power did it hold that could bring light to his darkness?
Yet, Mr. McVeigh's hopes were quite the opposite. He wished for Ansel's heart to remain frozen, like Hansel's. A frozen heart meant a fearless fighter, one who could face horrors without hesitation or regret.
If his heart was no longer frozen, he was not able to do the same thing Hansel did.
Perhaps, Mr. McVeigh thought grimly, if Ansel's heart softened too much, he would have to push him to do something even darker, something more vile than killing a dog. Or just let him be, let him be who he was.
It was just to freeze his heart again. It was cruel indeed, and sometimes the price was the loss of one's own humanity.
For Ansel it was hard to do. At least, the presence of a loyal Guardian Spirit was a beacon of hope. At least he would never be truly alone.
But just as relief began to settle over him, a new vision pierced his mind. The haunting images of the Bloody Marriage had finally faded, replaced by something new. Something equally mysterious and unsettling.
The future was still uncertain, and the burden of his destiny weighed heavier than ever.