Danitz was left speechless, feeling choked up. He sheepishly stepped aside and watched Gehrman Sparrow light a candle, burn powders, and drip hydrosol.
Taking a whiff of the spreading scent, he couldn't help raising his voice: “D-Did you use the wrong materials?”
He remembered that when the Resistance prayed to the “Sea God,” they never used things like “Full Moon Essential Oil,” Deep Sleep, or chamomile.
It wasn't like they were praying to the Goddess of Night!
Klein turned his head to glance at him, then shifted his gaze back to the altar: “No problem.”
As a professional who frequently offered sacrifices and was offered up as a sacrifice, he was well aware of the two main functions of burning hydrosols, essential oils, and herbal powders. First, to help the ritual conductor better adjust their spirituality and enter the right state. Second, to please the corresponding deity and curry favor with the target of the sacrifice, increasing the likelihood of their response. In this respect, every deity has their own beloved items.
However, this sacrifice mainly relied on two points: Kaletua's mental instability, his complete madness, and his craving for the aura of the Gray Fog. Neither condition could be absent. The other details were inconsequential.
As long as these two conditions were met, pleasing him or not wouldn't affect the ritual. It wouldn't increase the success rate, nor would it increase the chance of failure. He could completely half-ass it.
If Kaletua were still sane, even if I strictly followed the ritual's requirements, do you think he would respond to me? Klein muttered inwardly, taking half a step back, preparing for the most critical part.
He thought for a moment, then without turning his head, directly said: “Stand farther away.”
Me? Instead of being angered, Danitz was overjoyed. He quickly nodded: “O-Okay!”
He scurried to the warehouse entrance, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble.
Klein half-closed his eyes, meditated on the countless overlapping glowing spheres, and quickly entered the right state.
He chanted in a low voice in Elvish: “The beloved of the sea and the spirit world, the protector of the Rorsted Archipelago, the dominator of seabed creatures, the master of tsunamis and storms, the great Kaletua.
“Your faithful servant prays for your gaze;
“Prays for you to accept his offering;
“Prays for you to open the gates of your kingdom.”
As the harsh, awkward syllables were uttered one by one, the wind within the spiritual wall gradually rose, becoming fierce, as if it would overturn everything.
The corner of Klein's coat fluttered. He took out another metal flask he had prepared in advance and poured about 5 milliliters of the remaining Thousand-Faced Hunter's blood into the air.
This was a highly spiritual material!
The gale swallowed the dripping blood and howled into the candle flame symbolizing the “Sea God” Kaletua.
Silently, the candle flame expanded into a phantom door, its surface covered in symbolic runes and magical markers. From within, the faint sound of surging seawater could be heard.
Suddenly, all noise vanished, leaving only a heavy breath echoing behind the phantom door, as if a behemoth struggling to suppress its hunger was hidden behind it.
Hoo, hoo, hoo…
The heavy breathing became increasingly distinct and clear, making Danitz, who was at the warehouse entrance, feel his scalp tingle.
Bang!
The phantom door suddenly burst open, and a nearly visible hurricane surged out.
Amidst the sharp whistling, Danitz felt the intangible spiritual wall shatter and found himself directly thrown into the air, like a small boat in a storm, smashing heavily into the door with a dull thud.
He fell outside the warehouse, his back scratched by countless wooden splinters.
The crimson fireball he had instinctively condensed in his hand instantly dimmed in the storm and quickly extinguished, like a candle at the end of its life.
While he was in the air, he saw behind the open phantom door a ferocious giant mouth like a blood-stained basin, revealing slightly curved, milky-white fangs longer than a human arm. It madly rammed against the phantom door, trying to enter the real world directly, while its beast-like howls echoed inside the warehouse first, causing blood to flow from Danitz's ears and nose simultaneously.
Klein was also thrown into the air by the hurricane. His vision was then occupied by a massive, bloody, forked tongue crackling with lightning.
His body instantly turned charred black, stiffened in the air, pierced through by the snake's tongue, and turned into ash like burnt paper.
Klein's figure materialized on the other side. His hat had fallen off, his clothes were disheveled, and he was in quite a sorry state.
Fortunately, he knew there would be trouble, knew there would be danger. He had been highly alert, never relaxing his guard, and had used the Paper Figurine Substitute in time.
At this moment, Kaletua behind the phantom door, which hadn't wavered in the slightest, finally stopped ramming after realizing the futility.
He suddenly took a deep breath, causing the azure seawater to surge in from all directions, collapsing into a whirlpool deep in his throat that emitted a terrifying suction force—a whirlpool capable of devouring a cargo ship!
The iron cigarette case on the altar flew up and was thrown into the whirlpool.
The small crucible holding the herbal ashes flew up and was thrown into the whirlpool.