1 Chapter 1: Cultist?

"It's been ten years..."

Observing the furnishings in the secret room, Char opened his arms with a profound sense of emotion, as if he wanted to embrace everything in the room.

After that incident, a full decade has passed.

As a time traveler, over these years, Char, the young man, hasn't slacked off at all. Every day, he diligently prepares: striving to become stronger, making money like crazy, and collecting raw materials...

All of this, only for this present moment.

His luck has been remarkable. Even though acquiring some rare materials required significant effort, he still managed to find them. Otherwise, time would have been prolonged even further.

Char's full name is Char Adelaide. He hails from the southern province of Sako in the Hiren Empire, growing up in a tiny village with a population of no more than two hundred. His father, holding the title of a viscount, was the local lord of the region.

Although it might sound appealing, in reality, it wasn't the extravagant and luxurious noble life one might imagine.

Apart from hunting, the village's sole source of income was the agricultural produce. Unfortunately, the climate in that area was damp and cold, with insufficient sunlight. With only one harvest a year, the crops were sold in the nearby town, yet the money earned had to be diminished by layers of taxes paid to the empire. Consequently, very little was left for the villagers.

As a result, the entire village lived in extreme poverty.

In Char's recollection, the staple food that appeared on the dinner table from his childhood to adulthood was always dry and tough black bread, accompanied by meager vegetable soup. Moreover, shortly after he learned to walk, his father forcibly took him to participate in labor.

Although Char's father held a noble title, it was merely an inherited peerage from his ancestors. Besides affording him a certain level of status, it didn't provide him with corresponding dignity or wealth.

For instance, although there was an estate in the family, it was no more than a few acres in size. It had gone unrepaired and neglected for a long time, making it appear quite rundown.

Char grew up in this small estate, with only his father, mother, and a younger sister (his biological sister) who had exceptional magical talents and had left to study in the capital city. Apart from them, there was just one young maid remaining.

Poverty, stability, warmth, and contentment... This was an accurate portrayal of their life.

Originally, Char thought of it as some kind of slice-of-life, rural setting. With his content and simple outlook, life was actually quite peaceful. At times, he even felt that continuing like this, inheriting the title and the estate someday, marrying the maid from the house, and having a couple of chubby children wouldn't be a bad future at all.

After all, for a minor noble family like theirs on the border, with no significant influence, there was no need to worry much about social status and pedigree.

So, Char didn't have much dissatisfaction with everything, and he wasn't all that eager for the delayed awakening of a "golden finger."

But life is always filled with drama.

Especially in this unreasonable world, there exists a profoundly gruesome term that constantly oppresses ordinary civilians, involving them in conflicts and making their already challenging lives even more miserable.

That term is called "war."

It's just that overnight, the once peaceful and tranquil rural life shattered into pieces. The illusion of a peaceful, rural existence was torn apart in an instant by spears and warhorses, transforming into an entirely different scenario.

When Char awoke from his slumber, the entire village had already been drenched in blood and flames. Sinister executioners with the demeanor of antagonists wore cold, calculating smiles as they breached the estate's entrance.

Char's parents fought to protect him until their last breath, meeting a terribly tragic end.

And then, it was Char's turn.

The invaders from the hostile nation did not spare a single underage child. To them, life seemed as cheap as a blade of grass.

Char was impaled through the chest with a frigid, long spear, pinned to the wall as blood gushed forth. But right up until his final moment, he stared intensely at the leader of the knights without making a sound.

It seemed that the child's gaze had irritated the knight. Annoyed, the knight approached and crushed his head with his hand. Just before losing consciousness, Char faintly saw what appeared to be a sun-shaped family crest, embroidered in golden thread, within the knight's armor, symbolizing the lineage to which the knight pledged loyalty.

On that fateful night, apart from the young maid who had gone into the city for an errand and narrowly escaped, there was only one survivor.

When Char awoke once again, it was broad daylight.

His wounds had completely healed, and there was no pain whatsoever. Only the remnants of torn clothing and the ruins of the estate outside served as a grim reminder of the unimaginable atrocity that had occurred the previous night.

He had not died.

Not only had he not died, but he also felt an unprecedented surge of power coursing through his body.

Although it arrived late, Char's personal "golden finger" in this otherworld had finally awakened.

But for him at that moment, this couldn't exactly be considered a pleasant surprise.

On that day, it was Char's sixth birthday.

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Char opened his eyes, brought his thoughts back, and glanced at the silver mirror beside him.

The mirror reflected a handsome black-haired youth, tall and slender, with a detached expression. He was entirely concealed within the wide, dark robe he was wearing.

Surveying his surroundings, the small room was packed with all sorts of objects: stacks of parchment, bottles and jars filled with liquids, the remains of unidentified creatures, glistening magical gemstones... But the most attention-grabbing of all was the enigmatic pattern drawn on the wooden floor.

The pattern's lines were highly contorted, and it had an eerie crimson hue that made it look like an upside-down gaping maw, emitting a mocking, sinister grin.

This was a ritual documented in forbidden tomes, used for communicating with certain malevolent and enigmatic entities.

Upon closer inspection, one could discern that the lines of the pattern were adorned with various materials arranged systematically at their corners. Each of these materials appeared quite valuable, and these precious magical components were what Char had been preparing for over the course of ten years.

To acquire these materials, he had gone to great lengths, using various methods and channels to make a fortune, spending over ten thousand gold coins in the process, just to gather enough to conduct a single ritual.

This was a substantial wealth, something not just anyone could produce, even in the expensive capital city.

And with the substantial cost he had paid, all Char wanted to do was to successfully complete the ritual at hand.

To become stronger.

"Alright, let's double-check."

"The ritual materials are positioned correctly."

"The protective ward is functioning as intended."

"Mental state is reasonably stable."

The surrounding candles flickered in the dim light.

In this setting, Char, who was focused and wearing his robe, looked like a cultist.

In fact, what he was about to do, from any perspective, would undoubtedly label him as a cultist. Even throwing him into the Tower of Judgment wouldn't be an overreaction.

Because—

He, Char Adelaide, was about to conduct a ritual to communicate with the most dreaded entity across the entire continent, sealed in the deepest abyss of endless black mist, the malevolent witch capable of world destruction.

And then, he would be killed by her!