Chapter 33. Ritual (Part 3)

The "Soulfall" ritual is at the heart of a complex and intricate practice. As its performer, I summon the soul of a specific individual, granting them the ability to temporarily inhabit an object or another being's body. This process allows the summoned soul not only to partially control actions and share sensations with the host-performer but also to communicate thoughts while retaining the ability to physically interact with the world around them. The essence of the ritual lies in the partial or complete liberation of the performer's physical shell, enabling the astral projection of the summoned soul to take over, thus creating a profound channel of communication between two worlds.

Sounds cool, doesn't it? However, I concealed one important aspect from Satoru. I didn't mention that the role of the performer in this ritual would be assigned not to me but to Tsumiki Fushiguro. My choice wasn't driven by fear of the unknown but rather by the unique nature of ritual magic, which requires direct targeting of a specific objective. Judging by the knowledge I possess, these objectives are somewhat godlike... Gods from another world.

Any ritualistic magic isn't just about drawing a circle of salt, lighting a candle, and muttering a spooky chant to oneself. It's not merely a prayer or plea; it's more of a proposition, where each side must offer something in return. The main complexity of this ritual lies in the interaction with an entity unknown to me, one that can directly influence souls. I couldn't afford to risk negotiating with unknown divine egos from another world. Using a metaphor, it would be like negotiating with a terrorist, only from another world, and with enough power to be called a God.

This compelled me to adapt and alter the structure of the ritual, seeking aid within myself, which is a common practice in some magical rituals, although in this particular case, it carried special risks and difficulties. Metaphorically, the spiritual world can be likened to an infinite ocean, where the deeper you delve, the greater the pressure you experience. Reaching out to the supernatural allows bypassing many of these limitations, establishing a direct connection with the ritual's object. But in my case, by choosing myself as the focus for this ritual, I shifted the entire burden of finding the necessary soul onto my shoulders, significantly increasing the risk and complexity of the task.

Indeed, the path I chose was filled with uncertainty and offered no guarantees of success, as it was based on a theory inaccessible to standard verification methods. If our options had ended just there, perhaps I would have refrained from attempting it and resigned myself to the thought that not only Tsumiki but also Maki and Mai would remain unfulfilled. But the elusive spiritual thread stretching from Tsumiki's mind to uncharted horizons wouldn't let me rest. Therefore, realizing I had nothing to lose, I decided to go all-in.

Ultimately, the worst that could happen is the failure of my dream to create a world of shamans, which, compared to the potential opportunity to prove that it's possible, seems like a relatively low price to pay.

Against the backdrop of the soft, soothing scent of burning lavender and mint essence, I released the brass knife from my hands, allowing it to land gently on Tsumiki's abdomen. Without hesitation, I swiftly added the remaining extracts of lavender and mint to the candle flames, observing as the fire took on a mysterious pale-purple hue. Infused with my spiritual energy, the knife became the key to activating the ritual, immediately eliciting subtle vibrations in the spiritual barrier surrounding us, and causing the air around us to grow still.

In the realm of ritual magic, even ordinary individuals theoretically have the potential to become ritual performers. However, this would necessitate reliance on astromancy, acquisition of numerous rare ingredients, adherence to strict instructions, selection of auspicious dates and times for ceremonies, determination of precise locations, and arrangement of furniture in specific configurations. Instead, I rely on my unique abilities — keen spiritual sight and the power of astral projection. These faculties enable me to circumvent certain regulations and establish a precise connection between Tsumiki and this ritual, directing the incoming flow of spiritual energy towards her.

Stepping back, I delved deep into myself, separating my consciousness from my physical body and transitioning into a state of astral projection.

I pray for the strength of knowledge;

I pray for the strength of rationality;

I pray for a loving embrace;

I pray to encounter the spirit of Yorozu, a shaman who resided in the Heian era, originating from Izu, the progenitor of the Zenin clan, bound by invisible ties to Tsumiki Fushiguro.

...

A peculiar gust of wind swept through the room, extinguishing the candles. Whether it was a metallic flask or a brass knife, everything ascended into the air.

"This is so cinematic," Satoru remarked from across the room.

His words served as the final anchor of reality before I surged along the spiritual thread, hurtling into the unknown.

A vivid explosion of colors assaulted my vision, accompanied by an unpleasant ringing in my ears. Gradually, I began to lose my sense of spatial orientation: up and down, right and left — everything melded into one. The sole constant was the thin white thread of spiritual energy. The world transformed into a kaleidoscope of ever-changing shapes and colors, continually shifting and blurring before my eyes.

The peculiar sensation of swift motion, simultaneously accompanied by a sense of absolute stillness, stirred not only confusion within me but also a peculiar burning sensation, akin to an itch impossible to assuage.

Suddenly, as if emerging from the depths of my subconscious, a single word echoed in my mind — "deeper." And the deeper I ventured into this unknown abyss, the more tangible the pressure on my astral projection became, as though the very space itself was constricting around me.

At a certain moment, I sensed something new — a resistance that caused my astral projection to vibrate. These vibrations escalated, growing increasingly intense, as if I was navigating through turbulence. Then, unexpectedly, a burst of dazzling white light severed the entire spectrum of sensations, and I seemed to awaken from a dream.

Before me stretched a verdant field, vast and boundless, bathed in soft light that rendered every blade of grass and every leaf on the trees vivid and alive. The sensations of pressure and vibration vanished, washed away by this tranquil sight that enveloped me.

"What a letdown," came a sultry female voice from behind me.

Turning around, I beheld a statuesque young woman with an unclothed form. Her fair skin starkly contrasted with her long, dark hair and thick eyebrows that curved slightly inward.

"And here I thought I was quite presentable," I mused aloud, tilting my head to one side.

"A pretty face doesn't equate to beauty," she retorted, crudely propping up her chin with her hand, revealing her... everything. "And those who think otherwise are either fools or... fools."

Her words gave me pause, but I opted to remain composed.

"I'm not quite sure how to interpret your words," I replied evenly.

"If you're unsure, it's best to keep quiet," she sniffed in dissatisfaction.

"No, but if Sukuna is considered the epitome of male beauty, then perhaps I'd prefer to remain 'ugly'," I continued, maintaining my gaze upon her dark, inscrutable eyes.

My remark sparked a momentary flicker of seriousness in her expression, even a hint of anger.

"Everyone perceives this world through their own lens," she began, rising to her feet with a sinuous grace. Suddenly, her movements became alluringly fluid, as though she was exuding an inner allure, and her right hand brazenly grasped one of her breasts. "If to you, I'm merely an object for continuing the lineage, then I pity you as a man."

"You're deceased," I stated matter-of-factly, refusing to avert my gaze from her form. "And it's improbable that you could bear children. Even if you were alive, I doubt anyone would choose you for that role."

"My hips not wide enough for your liking?" she arched an eyebrow in surprise, glancing down at her body as if appraising it for the first time. "Can you smell it?" The woman sniffed. "It's the scent of deceit! Oh, how I relish that scent!"

The silence between us stretched, almost tangible. I had nothing to add to our intricate exchange, so I simply stood and waited, using the moment to buy time with Satoru. Simultaneously, the woman regarded me with a mix of dissatisfaction and anticipation.

"Do you understand why I labeled you a disappointment?" she broke the silence with her voice.

"No," I responded with a nonchalant shrug. "And does it truly matter?"

"Looks like I'm not leaving here, am I?" she remarked with a light smile, as if engaging me in a verbal play.

"Why would you not leave? Of course, you'll depart. But this time, it's a one-way journey — to purgatory," I retorted, attempting to delineate the boundaries of our interaction. "And I feel no remorse that no one will aid you in reuniting with your beloved."

"Who are you?" Her voice held a chilling yet composed tone.

"And you possess no inkling?" My smirk mirrored the intrigue laced within my response.

"Enough with the games. He couldn't have divulged anything about me to you. He doesn't need to. Thus, you have no connection to him. So, who are you?" She began to advance towards me, her strides deliberate yet resolute. "Who are you?"

"So many inquiries, yet so few revelations. It must be disconcerting, Yorozu," I glanced briefly around, savoring the tranquil ambiance. "It's astonishing how deeply one can plummet into the abyss called 'love'."

Yorozu halted before me, maintaining the distance of an outstretched arm.

"Who I am holds little significance. Just as the fact that Kenjaku couldn't have imparted anything to you. Hence, this time, I pose my query: what's your next move?"

"It's bound to be an intriguing journey," Yorozu smirked, promptly followed by a swift strike.