World Occult Usage Guide

"In her hazy state of consciousness, Mary Gilgud Adamek was transported back to that gentle night, a breeze rustling the gauze curtains, and her husband, whom she had longed for in another life, was walking toward her."

"Even though we haven't seen each other for many years, his image is still etched in my memory."

"Mrs. Adamek reached out to trace her husband's features, as if trying to etch him into her mind, but the next moment, the wind stopped, and a crow cawed hoarsely, 'Never again.'"

"Everything disappeared, and she stood in the dark wilderness."

"She saw a lush dragon blood tree not far away, with knotted ropes wrapped around its slender trunk. Some people said that these tenacious leaves represented her husband's soul, growing endlessly, and would never wither unless his soul was scattered."

“‘You can’t find him, the ritual has failed.’”

"Then the whole dragon blood tree withered and shriveled little by little, and the leaves fell to the ground."

"Poor Mrs. Adamek, dragging her heavy body, held the withered petals in her delicate hands. Sharp thorns pierced her skin, and bright blood, as clear as a virgin's fall, fell, mingling with her master's hot tears, indistinguishable from one another."

"She wasn't in pain, but she was becoming increasingly numb, weak, and powerless. So she gently leaned against the bare dragon blood tree, and withered leaves swirled down beside her, like a warm and comforting embrace, holding her gradually cooling body."

"The two hearts seemed to have never been separated, yet they stopped beating at the same time."

"The story of Mary Gilgud Adamek ends here."

As the starlight surged, Jacob used thick fountain pen ink to draw a sorrowful end to this gloomy and pitiful life.

A predetermined fate cannot be reversed.

Even Odin, the god who hung upside down on the World Tree, could not defy the final fate of Ragnarok.

Knowing too much about your future is never a good thing.

The monitors were broadcasting a recording of the press conference, while the side screens showed the viewership ratings for the West Continent and Lacona regions. Although the audience for the press conference was small, it was definitely a storm for the Rangers.

Moreover, he also has the support of [Black City].

Even if the forest ranger did not die at the hands of the voodoo priest, after this widespread "smear campaign," his obscure divine status will be tainted, and no matter how he tries to clarify things in the future, it will be difficult to convince people.

Unless he changes his name to something like "Lumberjack" and re-enters the world of mythology.

However, Jacob believed that since the ranger claimed to be the guardian of the World Tree, his personality and medium were certainly not compatible with "massacre".

Moreover, if he wanted to be crowned with the title of "Number One Tyrant of the Southern Continent," several "evil gods" above Bantu would be the first to object.

Just as Jacob was closing the ancient book, a strange "clanging" sound interrupted the rambling of Kapend Kumasi, and a disheveled figure covered in dust fell from the ceiling.

"Cough cough cough, cough cough..."

The pale, slender young man with curly hair rolled awkwardly on the ground a few times before swiftly approaching the microphone on the podium and forcefully shoving Kapend Kumasi off the stage.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I'll apologize to you again later."

The young man cleared his throat, took out his international journalist certificate, and began to speak clearly and logically.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for interrupting you all. I'd like to take this opportunity to briefly report on our sponsor, the Red Poppy Chamber of Commerce!"

“Edward Roberts?!” Jacob’s fingers, which were stroking his mustache, froze, nearly plucking out several hairs. “He’s still alive? In my prophecy, he was clearly supposed to have ‘died from voodoo’…”

"Crash."

He turned the pages of the book, which were filled with ornate calligraphy, and looked at a story he had finished writing a few days ago.

"Edward Roberts lay in his hospital bed, knowing that there were many untold stories he hadn't shared with the world, but he would never have the chance."

"A needle pierced the heart of a scarecrow a thousand miles away. Edward stared at the cold ceiling of the hospital. His heart and the doll held by the withered hand stopped beating, and his consciousness fell into boundless nothingness."

“Dahomey’s voodoo killed him, and now he has passed away.”

He died...it should have been.

Jacob looked at Edward, who was talking eloquently, and after a moment of silence, he had to admit that he had made a few mistakes.

First, they underestimated the skills of the forest rangers.

Death is not annihilation in the eyes of the true gods.

In many myths, death is the beginning of a journey.

Fate gave Edward Roberts his predetermined death, but the forest ranger added a comma after his death, indicating that the story was incomplete.

Jacob stared coldly at the main display screen. The scene immediately descended into chaos due to the arrival of the reporters.

The technicians operating the equipment immediately tried to cut off the live stream, but several officers and mystics loyal to General Abishan rushed forward, and bullets and "Comers" energy rained down on Edward.

"Touch! Touch! Touch!"

A fierce conflict was about to erupt. Jacob closed his eyes wearily, and when he opened them again, the carpet was covered in blood, and bone fragments and pieces of flesh were splattered everywhere.

The international journalist's face grew increasingly pale, his body covered in blood, yet he was almost unharmed, while his attackers lay sprawled on the ground.

That lamb-like fellow was actually the presiding judge. Jacob raised an eyebrow. This world is getting crazier and crazier.

Edward gripped the microphone nervously, swallowing hard as he stammered as he recited his script.

"According to my investigation, the Red Poppy Chamber of Commerce's factory in Kinsasha—sir, wait until I finish—your brains are splattered all over the screen—cease fire! Cease fire! May God bless your souls—hey! Don't interrupt the live stream!"

His terrified voice, along with the screams of the technicians, the gunshots of the officers, the sound of chairs overturning, and the muffled groans of the reporters who had been deprived of their senses by the voodoo priests and collapsed helplessly to the ground, created a farcical scene of demons dancing wildly.

"Clap!"

A piece of scalp flew off and blocked the surveillance camera. Jacob pressed the button to switch the signal; he couldn't stand it anymore.

Very well, the second fatal mistake.

I shouldn't have used Edward Roberts' perspective to invite the ranger to Abishang to kill two birds with one stone; I should have killed him as soon as possible according to the original plan.

After all, what he saw in the factory back then was more than just radioactive material...

Now he has become a mystery figure of the World Tree.

The forest rangers enjoyed the Theia Auction ahead of time without spending a penny.

With a few cold laughs, Jacob methodically packed up his things. Just as he was about to close the books, a wave of dizziness washed over him.

It seems that Edward's reporting on the Red Poppy Merchant Guild has caused some instability in his divine status.

This is the third mistake.

“I’m not suited for these dirty jobs, so I pay people who are willing to do them—fortunately, this failure is bearable.”

Jacob maintained an elegant posture, placed the books into his suitcase, and zipped it up.

At the same time, a palindrome poem with its rhythmic cadence rises, echoing with an ethereal and sacred atmosphere.

"The rainforest is hot, the sun is blazing, and blood stains the Kuba River red; the air is cool, the darkness deepens, and the calm waters flow into the Rhine."

…………

Lin An was surrounded by something.

They must be intelligent beings, because he sensed the passion and vitality of humanity in their simple yet profound activities; they pursued their goals with pure hearts, boundless passion, and sincere imagination.

Are these people who believe in me?
No, it should be their "thoughts".

Lin An felt his relationship with them. These thoughts seemed to influence and reshape his personality in some way, and their presence gave him the opportunity to observe the complexities and subtleties of the world.

Each individual, though small, is also incredibly complex.

They didn't reject Lin An's scrutiny and approach; in fact, they were quite close to him. More importantly, Lin An also agreed with their way of thinking.

Suddenly, a multitude of thoughts, each with a distinct expression, flooded his mind.

He realized that these were illusory deities from various civilizations, who appeared here for reasons unknown. Some symbolized solemnity and kindness, some symbolized ruthless power, some symbolized unthinking creativity, and others symbolized omniscient wisdom.

These images are the product of creative minds and embody the same spirituality that "Comers" bestows upon all living beings.

Gods from all over the world appeared all at once, causing Lin An's head to throb and his vision to blur. He couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

A familiar image slowly takes shape, a dense mass of matter and intense rays, constantly expanding, symbolizing the infinite spirit that inspires all humankind.

This is an entity that objectively exists within Lin An's field of vision, and also exists deep within his nature; it is like him, yet boundless and transcends him.

A thick veil concealed His true form. Lin An knew that He had hidden a larger world from him, a world with a vast and imposing atmosphere, an endless ocean, and waves whipped up by the strongest storms that resembled ripples on the surface of mercury.

Faced with the infinite entity, he deeply felt his own limitations.

However, desire conquered fear, and he flew towards Him like a moth, traversing the universe and passing through planets, to witness other wonders.

A few seconds later, the gods who linked him to the infinite spirit collapsed, the path to Him broke, and Lin An was surrounded by the initial gentle thoughts, which were naive and ordinary, but very sincere.

These tiny members worship him, surround him, and offer him a kind of comfort unlike anything else the infinite spirit can offer.

They caused Lin An to emit the same faint light.

The fireflies grew brighter and hotter, accompanied by a cold, incongruous voice.

"Mr. Rachel?"

Lin An sat up abruptly, his eyes, which had adjusted to the darkness, were suddenly assaulted by the golden midday sunlight, making his vision somewhat blurry.

In the hazy illusion created by the sweltering heat, a tall, slender woman in a long white dress bent down and stared intently at Lin An with her snow-white, eyeless eyes.

He let out a long breath, glanced at the data arranged by the system, and waved his hand.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Adamek." (End of Chapter)