"Alex." Elias squatted down to be at eye level with him. His empty eye sockets seemed to have a burning fire looking straight into Alex's eyes:
"You must know, because of me, you have been swept into this extraordinary world full of strange and eerie things. And in this specific world, if one does not have the ability to protect oneself, it is an extremely terrifying thing; the death of this boy is an example."
"I understand what you mean." Alex nodded, clenching his fists: "In this world, the big fish eat the small fish. Therefore, you want to help me complete the ritual to gain power?"
He still remembered the words Elias had once said: every mage or extraordinary individual possessed their own talents, and different talents would correspond to holding abilities or receiving the protection of different angels.
Through rituals of sacrifice and prayer, believers would connect with deities, become servants, faithful followers of the God, and be granted power.
"Alex." Elias's attitude remained as resolute as the night before: "No one wants to establish a link with me, and I will not grant my destructive power to anyone, especially you."
"Why? I want to link with you. You saved me." Alex didn't understand, feeling rejected.
"Because war will bring death, separation, and pain, Alex." Elias did not hide the nature of his authority: "That is not a benevolent kind of power for a child to hold."
"Then how do I complete the ritual? I need power." Alex bit his lip until it bled. Because he had a terrible experience of being abandoned by the Luminous Church when he was young, he truly rejected and hated the Church of the Goddess of Light. If it weren't for the fact that Elias had saved his life, he certainly wouldn't want to get so involved with this subordinate god of the Goddess of Light.
But he didn't know other gods; his knowledge of theology was zero. Would those existences high above respond to a destitute person carrying a strange curse like him? Ah, no, Elias said it wasn't a curse; it was a "gift" from some unidentified god.
There was already a mark of a god on his person; how could he receive the favor of other gods? Alex touched his frayed scarf. He also didn't know which god this mark belonged to, whether good or evil, and he couldn't presumptuously pray to Him.
"Alex, you possess a special, rare talent." Elias said, observing the aura around him: "Perhaps, without needing to go through that mysterious god, you can still perform witchcraft on your own based on that mark."
"Huh?" Alex was bewildered, not understanding Elias's meaning; this seemed to contradict the ritual rules he had mentioned.
Elias patiently explained: "You possess the mark of a deity; it acts like a readily available energy source. Through this type of mark, your use of power is even more stable and direct than borrowing cumbersome rituals to build a bridge to a strange god."
This time Alex understood Elias's meaning. He completely didn't need to pray or beg the owner of this mark for a response, but could directly rely on this mark to mobilize divine power as if it were his own.
"But isn't that just like stealing?" Alex asked, frowning in worry: "Didn't you say this mark is the property of some god? Since it belongs to someone else, doesn't that mean I still have to return it..." Alex's voice suddenly choked, his face turning pale.
Return it how? It had already become one with him.
Did this mean that when that god demanded the mark back, he would die?
"Alex." Elias saw the stiff expression and the momentarily wavering eyes of the young man, understanding that he had intelligently guessed the cruel truth.
"I want to learn." Alex raised his head. The fear in his eyes dissolved, replaced by jet-black eyes filled with determination and indignation:
"The lifespan of a deity is eternal, and humans are just like the blink of an eye. What if I basically don't live long enough until the time He takes back the mark? Because of this thing, I was abandoned, bullied, treated like a monster, and pointed at and gossiped about for so many years. I want revenge; I want to steal His power and use it to my heart's content. Why did He bully me like that? Why choose me?"
"I do not accept this fate."
"I'm not afraid of death; I'll die anyway." Alex's eyes shone brightly, covered in a thin mist but shedding no tears.
"Humans all must die eventually, but I want to die after I have struggled enough."
"I do not accept it."
Elias appreciated Alex's brave and somewhat arrogant choice; this will to resist was exactly what a warrior needed. He was just about to talk about guiding him when, in his keen senses, two unfamiliar auras trespassed into the range of the house.
"We will discuss this matter later; there is no more time. Alex, someone is coming."
"Huh?" Alex was startled, snapped out of his flow of emotions: "Arbiters?"
Elias nodded his skull: "Two extraordinary individuals who have just entered the gateway not long ago; their auras are not yet stable."
He spoke and quickly moved towards the dark corner of the wall, actively dispelling the red extraordinary energy that was supporting the skeletal movement. In an instant, he turned into a messy pile of white bones, void of any life.
Alex wiped his eyes vigorously; his fingertips were slightly damp. He took a deep breath to calm his heartbeat; he couldn't let the Arbiters see any abnormality or the agitated emotions from just now.
He carried a small stool out to sit in the middle of the house, moving Gary's body from the shroud bag and placing it on a clean cloth. The purple-bruised corpse had already developed mottled spots; fortunately, the current weather couldn't be considered hot, so no pungent smell rose up.
Alex's face darkened as he laid out each tool: needle, thread, scissors, small knife... Gary's soul floated beside his own corpse, curiously looking at Alex's shiny items.
Alex intended to tidy up the appearance and sew up the open wounds for Gary. Regardless of whether the boy intended to reincarnate or not, this body couldn't just be left tattered like that.
About a few minutes later, the sound of knocking on the wooden door rang out "knock knock," a sharp and decisive sound. Alex put down the tool in his hand; the sound of metal colliding rang out softly.
Having been warned by Elias beforehand, Alex was not surprised by the sudden visit of the Arbiters. He stood up from the stool, wiping his hands on his apron while walking to the door, trying to create a tired and sleepy expression.
Removing the chain which clattered, pulling back the heavy door bolt, Alex took a deep breath to regain his composure and opened the wooden door.
The door opened halfway; a small head with messy hair poked out.
"Who is it?" Alex looked warily at the two strangers standing tall in front of his house.