This is too fast... Has it already circled the planet several times? Or is it simply staying in place, moving so swiftly that my eyes can't keep up? Klein gave a slight draw of the corners of his mouth, deciding to wait a few seconds to see if the "unbelievably swift one" would reappear. He wasn't concerned about the spiritual being summoned posing a threat to the innocent, as one of its descriptions was that of a friendly entity. Moreover, should he forcibly terminate the summoning and halt the ritual, the being would instantly return to the spirit realm regardless of where it had gone. After a few seconds with nothing to show, Klein took a deep breath and spoke in ancient Hermes: "I! I terminate this summoning by my name!" The surrounding chill instantly vanished, the swirling阴 winds gradually calmed, and the candle flames resumed their normal hue. Klein stepped forward a few paces, extinguished the candles, and decided to revise the final description, attempting the process once more. As for the two sentences—"spirits wandering in illusion, friendly beings capable of being summoned"—he had no intention of altering them. The first sentence, referring to the spirit realm, could only be replaced with a synonym, either way would suffice. The second sentence, however, was a prerequisite for克莱恩's own safety; otherwise, the incident earlier would not have been a mere comedy but a terrifying tale. Hmm... He didn't need to qualify "the swift ones" with "beyond imagination," but other aspects might still fall short of his expectations. Perhaps... he could take a different approach: messengers didn't necessarily have to run so fast—normal speed would suffice. Safety could be ensured simply by making the antagonistic entities consistently overlook and undervalue them. This time, he would try using less conspicuous spiritual beings. After careful consideration for a few minutes,克莱恩 resumed the ritual. Having completed the preparatory work, he recited the new incantation: "I! I summon by my name: spirits wandering in illusion, friendly beings capable of being summoned, easily overlooked weak existences." The warehouse instantly grew unusually quiet. There was no wind, no cooling, and the color of the candles remained unchanged. Kaine waited patiently, observing intently, hoping for a favorable messenger. After a few seconds, he sighed and surveyed the room, saying, "Nothing at all. This description simply isn't working." He decided to conclude the summoning process as scheduled, extinguishing the candles. What puzzled him slightly was that the candle flames wavered several times before finally settling. Did I overlook something? Kaine furrowed his brow, then smoothed it out, setting the matter aside. He began to reconsider how to refine the description, still focusing on the third sentence. Perhaps the messenger could be particularly resilient—able to endure a lot of hardship and have strong survival skills. As long as the message reached its destination, that would be a good messenger. Kaine pondered for a while, and then initiated the summoning ritual for the third time. In the fragrance of herbs and essential oils, under the soft glow of the yellow candle, shadows danced across his face as his mouth opened and closed in uncertainty: "I! I summon by my name: spirits wandering in illusion, friendly beings capable of service, extraordinary entities of exceptional resilience." The candle flame leapt and stretched, casting a bright, vivid red light across the altar. In Kline's spirit sight, white bones rose from the ground, stacked one upon another, forming a creature resembling a sturdy cabinet. At last, something visible had been summoned—something truly resilient... quite like a cabinet, clearly built to withstand blows. Kline exhaled in relief and spoke in ancient Hermes: "Would you be my messenger?" The cabinet-like creature quickly conveyed its willingness. Then, it slowly moved the bones beneath it, crawling toward Kline—slowly, very slowly. It took ten seconds to crawl one centimeter. …That’s too slow, isn’t it? Caine’s smile froze on his face. Though the messengers traveled through the spiritual realm to fulfill their duties, that didn’t mean they didn’t need speed. Within the spiritual realm, distance and direction were inherently chaotic, and most importantly, precise positioning and the ability to locate targets were essential. As long as accurate, clear, and immediate positioning was provided—such as during the just-concluded summoning ritual, or even a simplified version like the sound of a bronze horn—the messengers could instantly appear at the altar regardless of where they were located in the realm. But when positioning was delayed, relying only on contractual ties or previous anchor points, the messengers had to spend time discerning their location, navigating the spiritual realm, and seeking out their destination—thus requiring a certain level of speed. If they were delivering a message, the recipient might never receive it during their lifetime. Caine watched the slow, deliberate progress of the cabinet-like white bone creature, feeling helpless. He then managed to restore his earlier smile. “After careful consideration, I believe we still cannot burden you with this.” "Thank you for your willingness." The being composed of ethereal white bones halted, appearing as if it had not moved at all since before. Caine swiftly ended the summoning and rubbed his temple. He felt momentarily discouraged, deciding to abandon his original plan and instead adopt a simpler approach—publicly recruiting and interviewing candidates! Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and conducted the ritual with care. Gazing at the steadily burning candles, he stepped back and said: "I! "I summon by my name: "spirits wandering in the realm of illusion, friendly beings capable of service, unique entities willing to serve as my messengers." Whoosh! Within the veil of spirit, the wind surged violently, nearly lifting Caine's half-high silk hat. The candles swayed and swelled, expanding to the size of a human head, pale as though they had lost their warmth. A semi-transparent head emerged slowly, as if pushing through a thin film, its hair a soft golden hue, flowing smoothly, and its eyes a deep, blood-red, radiating vibrant charm. It felt familiar... Cain murmured silently. The head fully emerged, yet what followed wasn't her neck—rather, ethereal hands grasping the ends of her hair. Behind those hands came a sleeve, intricately patterned yet deep in color. The spirits summoned from the spiritual realm were emerging faster and faster, soon fully visible to Cain. Indeed, this was a familiar figure—precisely the woman with no head whom Cain had encountered standing atop the castle during his journey to the underwater ruins of Cavi Tuwa. She no longer appeared as towering as before, no longer matching the scale of the castle; now she stood as a graceful, ordinary woman. Of course, her neck remained with only a clean cut, and she carried four identical heads in her hands. "Yes..." "You..." "Are you... summoning... me?" A woman without a head, dressed in a dark, somber, and elaborate gown, stood quietly in place. Four of her hanging heads spoke one after another in ancient Fussak. Direct communication was possible—this spiritual being was clearly of a high rank. I remember you have a castle, holdings, and assets—how come you're here "applying" for the role of messenger? Kline first expressed admiration, then offered a complaint, then glanced toward the candles behind the headless woman, only to find no other spirits appearing. He had expected a crowd of spiritual beings eager to join him as messengers, forming lines to interview, yet only one had responded. It must be an issue with the ritual itself—this was a relatively simple and basic summoning ceremony, unlikely to attract multiple targets at once. Kline looked at the headless woman and nodded firmly. "Yes." Before she could speak, he added two more questions: "Can you travel swiftly across the spiritual realm? And how strong is your survival capability?" The head held in the woman's hands responded in turn: "Yes." "Still..." "Good." As she spoke, she drifted upward and then swiftly descended, demonstrating the motion. Huff. Cain decided to stop making attempts whose outcomes he didn't know—instead, he asked seriously: "Would you like to enter into a contract and serve as my messenger?" The woman's skirt gently swayed, and the four golden-haired, red-eyed heads nodded simultaneously: "Yes." "Each time..." "One coin." Ah? One coin per message? Mr. Azk hadn't mentioned that spiritual beings would have such a preference. Oh—right—he had said that when entering into a contract, persuasion and communication should be emphasized. Was this just a form of persuasion and communication? Cain was surprised and immediately considered dissolving the summoning. Wait, it doesn't have to be me who pays—whomever calls the messenger pays. Hey, maybe after we've communicated more, we'll even have a pay-on-delivery option. In the span of a thought, Caine agreed to the other party's request: "Alright. Let's draw up a contract." He picked up the dark red, round-bodied steel pen and the ochre-colored vellum paper he had prepared in advance, swiftly writing the contract in ancient Hermes script—powerful enough to move natural forces. The format and terms were detailed in the letter from Azk, clear and firm, including clauses that the messenger couldn't peek at the letters, lose them, or endanger the lives of the contracting parties—though if the content of the letters involved the messenger, the contracting party must inform the other side in advance. Beyond these, Caine added a clause stipulating one gold coin for each delivery, clearly stating that this cost could be borne either by the contracting party or by the recipient of the letter. To ensure the contract's validity, the final section bore the sacred names of the divine patrons of the respective domains. This is a necromantic pact, normally requiring the high name of the god of death. However, this deity has fallen long ago and no longer responds, so Azk suggested that the descriptions of a high-ranking figure within the necromantic domain or of the Underworld itself could serve as substitutes—though with less binding force. Clearly, Kline chose the Underworld, which he knew well through his close ties to its great figures: "All destinies of the dead reside deep within the Underworld's hell; all things ultimately decay, and this is the sovereign realm of the gods of death." As these four lines were inscribed, one after another, the ancient Hermes script on the warm, tan vellum ignited with a pale green flame, casting a cold, solemn glow throughout the room. With the body of the pact complete, Kline produced Azk's bronze whistle, placed it upon the vellum, and signed his current name at the end: "Germain Spalro." It doesn't necessarily require a full name, since the very essence of the being enters the contract; the name's function is merely for summoning. Thus, one can summon "the messenger unique to Germain Spalro," but not "the contractual creature of Caine Moretti." Once Caine signed, the parchment rose, carrying the Azkian copper horn and the dark steel pen, and floated before the headless woman. Holding one of her golden-haired, red-eyed heads, the woman bit into the round-bodied steel pen and inscribed her name: "Renette Tynicol." The vivid green flames swiftly spread, enveloping both the Azkian copper horn and the ochre parchment. A few seconds later, the parchment turned to ash, while the copper horn remained unchanged and settled into the palm of Caine's outstretched hand. The four heads held by the headless woman Renette blinked simultaneously, and her form quickly became ethereal, retreating into the pale candlelight. — After the contract is sealed, Caine no longer needs to recite the summoning incantation; he can simply rely on his own will to complete the action. Phew, at last a messenger! "A spirit wandering among illusions, a friendly creature capable of service—unique to Germain Spalro's messenger..." Hmm, perhaps I should find a craftsman to create something akin to a bronze whistle, so I won't have to perform rituals every time I summon the messenger. Klein felt cheerful as he tidied up the aftermath.