"Birds leave shadows as they pass, winds leave whispers as they blow."
This is the simplest and most obvious principle. Whether it be plants, animals, or natural phenomena, any movement or change inevitably leaves traces somewhere.
Similarly, when powerful beings act, unless they deliberately conceal their presence, they leave traces that can last for centuries, millennia, or even forever. These traces, created by their activities, sometimes become mediums for other purposes.
...
"This text is quite fascinating, recording how one can use special rituals to communicate, interact, or even trade with supreme beings beyond the world."
Atop a seemingly ordinary tower, a blond young man held a tattered parchment scroll in his hands, a faint smile on his face.
From his knowledge, he understood that beyond the world lay an infinite void. This void was not entirely lifeless; there existed majestic entities capable of traversing its emptiness.
However, these beings were as unreachable to him as the mythical deities he'd heard of in legends. He viewed such knowledge as mere folklore since he believed it impossible for someone like him to ever interact with such beings.
Indeed, there was no chance of such contact. Even if he attempted to use a so-called ritual to communicate with them, the likelihood of success was negligible. And even if he succeeded, what then? He was far too insignificant to warrant their attention.
For such beings, a weak sorcerer like him was not even worth a glance. Moreover, attempting such communication was fraught with immense uncertainty and danger.
Of course, all of this assumed the ritual would work, but the materials required for a ritual capable of communicating with such void-dwelling entities were entirely out of reach for someone of his standing.
Still, there were exceptions. For instance, the scroll in his hand, a supposed "sacred text" claiming to summon gods from the void, which he'd picked up from a street stall.
The scroll, despite its lofty claims, was sold at an absurdly low price. Out of curiosity, the young blond sorcerer had purchased it as a casual amusement.
Reading through the scroll, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Which idiot wrote this? Ritual materials this cheap? Even if the ritual worked, what would it summon? Forget about those void-walking gods—this wouldn't even call forth a giant pelican."
Though mocking aloud, the blond sorcerer couldn't resist gathering the materials listed in the scroll and setting up the ritual.
The materials were so cheap and common that they were readily available in his wizard's tower. He decided to test the ritual to see if it could summon anything at all.
Confident that nothing significant would happen even if the ritual succeeded, he saw no risk in proceeding. His strength was more than sufficient to handle any minor anomaly.
In no time, a massive ritual array spanning nearly 100 square meters was constructed. Using the cheapest mystical materials, the array gleamed with faint golden light and crackled with occasional arcs of electricity.
To an uneducated observer, the array might seem like the work of a master. In truth, even the ignorant might not recognize its purpose.
The blond sorcerer gazed at the array he had so effortlessly built, a mix of amusement and confusion in his eyes. "What was I thinking? Even though the materials are dirt-cheap, they're still worth something. What a waste!"
Rubbing his temples, he felt a pang of regret for his frivolous endeavor. This was clearly a ritual doomed to fail. After all, he wasn't summoning just any creature—he was attempting to summon a god from the void!
Still, since the array was already in place, there was no harm in activating it. The sorcerer poured his mana into the array, initiating the ritual.
The array began to glow, drawing on the chaotic mystical items he had piled at its center as the initial offering. It sent a call into the boundless void.
"Of course, it didn't work," the sorcerer muttered after a while, rubbing his temples. His expression was indifferent—this outcome was exactly as expected. A ritual of such poor quality couldn't possibly succeed.
"Forget it. Consider it a way to dispose of those useless materials."
He glanced at the mystical items at the array's center. They were items he had collected over his training but had no practical use for. Tossing them away felt wasteful, so he had kept them, though they were essentially junk.
As the array drained their essence, the items lost their luster, reduced to useless ash.
"Another waste of time. I'll have someone clean this up later."
Seeing the ritual fail as anticipated, the blond sorcerer turned to leave. But the moment he turned his back, something changed.
The air grew thick and oppressive. A suffocating pressure descended upon the tower, causing the sorcerer to freeze mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head, his expression one of disbelief as he stared at the still-glowing array.
He had succeeded in summoning something.
Using junk materials, he had summoned a being capable of walking the void—a god. How was this possible? Why would such a being respond to a summoning of this level?
Though he could list countless reasons why the ritual should have failed, the oppressive reality before him left no doubt—it had worked. A terrifyingly powerful entity had responded to his call and was manifesting here.
Paralyzed with awe and fear, the sorcerer stared at the array as golden light and sparks coalesced, forming a pair of indistinct, golden eyes.
The mere sight of these eyes shattered his mental defenses. His consciousness plunged into darkness, and his body crumpled to the ground.
...
When the sorcerer finally awoke, his head throbbed as though it had been struck by a hammer. Groaning, he looked around and saw only the remnants of the ritual—the array and materials reduced to ash.
"I actually succeeded," he murmured in disbelief, staggering to his feet. "But… what did I summon?"
As he recalled the blurred, golden eyes, his heart raced. They exuded majesty, boundless power, sanctity, and nobility. He lacked the words to describe what he had glimpsed.
"I really did summon something like that." His splitting headache was fading, replaced by a profound regret. He had made contact with an unfathomable entity, only to faint before accomplishing anything.
"Isaac, there's no need to dwell on it. Even if you stayed conscious, what could you have done? Facing such a being, fainting or not makes no difference." He tried to comfort himself, but the missed opportunity gnawed at him.
As his headache subsided, a wave of intense hunger struck him, forcing him to summon servants to prepare food.
After an hour of continuous eating, he noticed something strange.
On the back of his pale hand, a small, faintly golden scale had appeared.
"What is this?" he muttered, staring in horror at the foreign object.
"Is this the only gift—or curse—I received from summoning that god from the void?"
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