Crimson Servant

Chapter 6: What you betray in your body, what you hide in your heart

All admiration comes from desire, and all gifts have a price. John Kemp deeply understood this truth. There is no such thing as special, and there is no so-called favor in Vertis. John was special because of his irreverence, and his irreverence had its price.

In Sullivan Prison, John did not tell the three congressmen the truth about the Red Rotten Disaster.

John Camp did not survive that disaster, but endured the [Rotten Red Disaster] and "lived". In that large-scale sacrificial ceremony, all the Wiltis warlocks offered themselves as sacrifices to the Crimson God, and John Kemp was no exception.

All the warlocks were corrupted by Veltis' power and turned into crimson dead creatures. John Kemp made a trial out of disrespect and made his spell "active" through constant attempts. His Veltis spell can give birth to magical creatures. In the ritual of self-sacrifice, John Camp also gave himself "activity".

That was not a good thing. All the believers turned into rotten red corpses, and John Kemp was a little more active than the others. He was like a confused beast, wandering on the plains of Juancrete, unconsciously spreading the crimson gift. Recovering his sanity, for John Camp, is more like a miracle, a miracle woven by the goodwill of several adventurers.

Nora Sebas healed his wounds.

Francis Blade kept him safe.

Mariana Dahl got his soul back.

They gave John Camp new life. Because of this kindness, John Camp was willing to accommodate them at any time, because they were the beginning of all the goodwill in John's life, and they were the closest friends. John Kemp had a special emotional investment in them, and he knew that they also had abnormal feelings for him. Just like Nora Sebas occasionally exudes irrepressible motherhood to John, playing a mother with her petite body and young appearance. Although John feels awkward, he still silently accepts it. He expressed surprise at how seamlessly Nora switched between loving and cunning. This may be the innate ability of the shapeshifter.

The presence of friends soothed John's pain, making it possible for this particular Veltis warlock to continue to endure.

John Kemp has paid the price for the gift of Vertis. His body became a living rotten red curse. Perhaps due to some coincidental pattern, or perhaps due to some profound guidance, the ritual of self-sacrifice caused John's body to mutate in certain directions.

John's body has become a perfect receptor for the power of crimson. He does not need lengthy chants to release the Veltis spell. A single thought can activate the power in his body, like using his arms and fingers. His spirit has been tempered and he is able to resist most control spells and is immune to negative states such as charm and fear. The perception of magic is more acute, and John's ability in casting spells is comparable to those of warlocks, those talented people who rely on blood.

These changes are merely compensation.

Because his body was riddled with holes by alien forces, he looked like a fragile rag doll. His arms were weak, making it difficult to swing a weapon or draw a bow string. His bones were so fragile that they would easily break under impact. The skin is pale and may tingle under prolonged exposure to the sun. Food that is slightly hard will be difficult to swallow, otherwise the swelling and pain from intestinal squeezing will last all night. Without the help of crimson magic, even daily life would become a trial.

And none of this is worth the pain in my head. That was the excitement of the knowledge he mastered. The Vertis spell came from another world and was knowledge that should not be controlled by humans. The human brain will reject these forcibly accommodated wisdom, and falling into crazy fanaticism is more like the brain's self-protection. For unbelievers like John, who do not have the immunity mechanism of fanaticism, they can only face pain head-on. Every understanding and application of knowledge will cause discomfort in the mind, like a restless ant colony crawling in the ravines of the brain, and the frequency of burning pain is higher than breathing.

All signs made John couldn't help but suspect that it was Vertis who felt his abandonment. This seemingly violent demon did not punish him with anger, but gave a "gift" to turn an unbeliever who resented him into a useless person. , cutting off the possibility of all talents, making him full of resentment, but he had to pretend to believe in it, praise His name, and borrow His power in order to survive. It is for this reason that John Camp concludes that Wiltis does not need devout faith and that His response to unbelievers is like participating in a fun game.

John Camp's life feels like a mockery of fate, with his future tied to the demon who destroyed his past.

Thinking about it this way, the appearance of Nora and others is more like the last life-saving straws that John Camp grasped, in order to allow him to continue struggling and not sink.

John discarded the distracting thoughts in his mind and waited for the completion of the crimson ceremony. The liquids floating in the air gradually dimmed, as if they were aware of gravity again and began to slide down and sink to the bottom of the pool.

Feeling something in his heart, John looked up and happened to see the last ray of blood falling into the pool.

It was the inherited bloodline of the inspired Rao Sahib Krenzo. It was bright red in color, like a shining onyx. John Camp felt the connection between Crenzo's blood and his own, and he knew that the mystery of Crenzo's warlock had been taken for himself.

Warlocks are spellcasters who master innate magic. Their power comes from magical experiences such as blood inheritance, influence from other worlds, etc. They are enviable talents.

John Kemp's coveting of warlocks began with his focus on the blood spell of Veltis. At one stage of his research, his knowledge of blood was praised by the vampire Count Smelky, who called John a truly refined person of taste. However, John just wanted to study and analyze the reasons that affected the effect of Vertis's spell.

He discovered the secret of the sinner's blood, and also discovered the secret of the sorcerer's bloodline.

The blood carries knowledge, and knowledge is hidden in the magic power, attached to every blood cell and added to the blood circulation. Analyzing the bloodline of warlocks is an almost impossible research, because every warlock cherishes their own knowledge, and their bloodline is protected and is not allowed to be viewed at will by outsiders. Some sorcerers even exert some kind of spiritual influence on their descendants, so that their descendants no longer struggle with the principles of magic, but naturally release it as they please.

With John's efforts alone, it may take him several generations to unlock the blood of a certain warlock. It is like opening the family treasury of an inherited family. The time and cost of decryption cannot be completed independently.     But it doesn’t matter, his god will open the vault door and destroy all family traditions. The wild magic of Veltis will destroy the seal that the warlock has worked so hard to design, allowing the blood of these warlocks to re-identify its owner.

John stretched out his palm and reached into the pool. The blood that gave it "activity" surged over, sticking to the sorcerer's delicate skin, penetrating and invading. Like spreading poison, the warlock's blood flowed into John's veins, recreating the secrets passed down by blood in his brain.

John is learning the knowledge of Crenzo Warlock. Soon, he will become a fake Crenzo Warlock and master the family's exclusive magic. But his expression was ferocious and twisted, his arms were shaking, and sweat was pouring from his forehead. It was obvious that the whole learning process was a bit rough.

Blood carries knowledge, and not just knowledge. After being violently unlocked by Vertis, everything in the Warlock's blood was revealed to John. The blood owner's knowledge, memories, dreams, personality...the crushed mental fragments were pieced together in John's head, like a growing crystal cluster stuffed into his brain. John is violently reading everything about the imprisoned warlock in Sullivan Prison. The massive amount of useless information has completely washed away John's consciousness, making John Camp's self-awareness crumbling. A fragmented personality is being born, and he must restrain it.

He is John Camp, the Warlock of Veltis, not the Warlock of Crenzo. He controls knowledge rather than being controlled by knowledge.

"...Crenzo...my family...the great...ancestor...the glory..."

John's voice was interspersed with the babble.

"...John...Nora was named...from...her first love...a...pet lobster..."

"...the decipherer...the mother...the astrologer...the father...the blue lake...the lawn of childhood..."

"...The thief...Nora...Francis...the weirdo...the burning village...the bloody mud..."

The warlock's consciousness and John's consciousness collided in his mind, and the memories tore each other apart. This tug-of-war lasted for several hours. When the warlock opened his eyes again, he lay down by the pool, with his calves in the water.

John spoke quietly.

"My pain is greater than yours, Crenzo. It is the living who suffer more."

When John regained his strength and adjusted his condition and returned to the room, he happened to hear the sound of swarms of bats flying outside the window. It was already the curfew time in the Dark City. During this period, the administrator's guards would deal with anyone on the street at will. It's time for the wanderers to rest.

The pain in his head was deepened by his studies, and John understood that continuing to study would be less effective. He controlled the red ribbon to pull him back to the room, swept the scattered scrolls off the bedroll, lit the kerosene wall lamp, and John lay down on the soft fur and leaned against the wall. eyes.

……

The poor state of his mind made John feel a little confused. He felt that the light had disappeared, perhaps because the kerosene had burned out. He didn't know what time it was, and the biting cold had penetrated into his body.

In a dream-like state, in a completely quiet environment, John's upper body stood upright, facing the door.

The closed door was never opened, tightly protecting everything in the room.

But John had an unexplainable premonition.

There is a person standing outside the door.

Liquid seeped out from under the door, the air became cold and clammy, and a strange voice came from behind the door, like a nursery rhyme, with a strange rhythm, and every word seemed to be wrapped in water bubbles.

"Won't you invite me in?"

"I know you're here."

(End of this chapter)