Chapter 65: Prayer Ritual

Chapter 65: *Prayer Ritual*

One step, two steps...

Xiao Luo clutched the red cloth shoes in both hands as she cautiously stepped into Grandma Li's home. To muffle her footsteps, she even tiptoed, placing each foot down with extreme care.

The darkness swallowed her whole.

Instinctively whispering, as if afraid to disturb the rigid figure before her, she said, "Grandma Li, I'll just put your shoes back for you..."

The old woman remained completely motionless, lacking even the natural rise and fall of a living person's breath, like nothing so much as a corpse arranged in a specific pose.

In the tomb-like silence, every sound echoed like thunder.

The room was filled with the distinct sounds of Xiao Luo's soft footsteps, her rapid breathing, and the unavoidable swish of fabric as she moved.

Her heart hammered heavily in her chest, like the beat of a drum.

Without realizing, Xiao Luo's hands holding the red shoes became drenched in cold sweat, sweat collecting in her palm lines. The clammy sensation made her even more cautious, terrified of accidentally dropping the shoes.

The further she crept into the room, the colder the air became, so much so that her exhaled breath instantly turned into white mist, as though she were walking through a vast icehouse.

As the chill air stabbed her nostrils, Xiao Luo suddenly paused, frowning in confusion.

She caught a strange odor.

It smelled somewhat like the sticky remnants of chopped meat left on a chopping board after "Mom" had finished preparing it.

What was this...?

Just as doubt crept in, a half-remembered lesson flashed through her mind, and she abruptly realized—

This was the unmistakable stench of death, a sign of decay and death.

And the source of this smell was none other than Grandma Li, sitting rigidly mere inches away.

The realization made Xiao Luo even more nervous. She held her breath, relying entirely on the courage granted by the magical snake scale in her pocket to keep moving forward.

As she passed by Grandma Li, Xiao Luo finally could see her clearly:

The old woman sat on a long bench, her hair half-black and half-white, coarse yet neatly combed back and tied into a low braid with a red ribbon. Her face was deeply lined, the sagging skin hanging loosely.

But most disturbing were Grandma Li's eyes—pale gray, like a dead fish's glassy stare, staring straight ahead without blinking.

Even with Xiao Luo standing just two steps away, her pupils didn't so much as twitch. A layer of grayish-white film appeared to glaze her eyes, sealing away all thought and perception deep within.

Admittedly, Grandma Li's total indifference to her presence gave Xiao Luo a slight sense of security... as long as she didn't suddenly move.

What stood out most, however, was Grandma Li's hands resting symmetrically on her knees, holding a pure black photo frame holding a black-and-white photo.

Out of curiosity, Xiao Luo glanced down at the photo, squinting to make out its contents.

But that single glance sent ice through her veins, nearly causing her to drop the shoes.

At the center of the photo was a face identical to Grandma Li's, grinning at her with unnatural warmth—

It was Grandma Li's own funerary portrait!

Who would have thought that while sitting with her back to the door, Grandma Li was clutching her own death portrait?

This wasn't just a matter of Grandma Li looking corpse-like anymore...

She was plainly dead!

Though Xiao Luo had suspected as much, facing this macabre scene of a dead woman holding her own funerary portrait still made her skin crawl.

She couldn't bear to think about how many other horrors she might have unknowingly passed by on her way to and from school these past days...

Taking a few deep breaths of the icy air, Xiao Luo steadied herself and continued feeling her way forward in the dark.

By now, the motion-sensor light in the hallway had long since turned off, drowning the entire first floor into absolute darkness.

But Xiao Luo's eyes gradually adjusted, and shapes began emerging from the dark.

The apartment's layout was basic—a modest living and dining area right by the entrance, followed by a narrow hallway leading to the bathroom and bedrooms.

Thus Xiao Luo easily noticed the coffin placed at the end of the hallway.

She tiptoed past Grandma Li's seated figure and stopped before the coffin.

To Xiao Luo's small frame, the coffin loomed nearly half her height, disappearing into the absolute blackness. At a glance, it seemed fathomless, its contents impossible to discern.

Of course, Xiao Luo couldn't bring herself to look inside. She quickly placed the shoes inside, but as she turned to leave, she suddenly found herself locked in Grandma Li's stare.

—At some point, Grandma Li had lifted her previously forward-staring eyes, her clouded gray eyes now fixed directly on Xiao Luo, making her feel...

As though she were being stared at by a long-dead corpse!

Xiao Luo slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. She watched as Grandma Li's blue-tinged lips parted, emitting a low, hoarse voice:

"You... are 'Fate's' chosen..."

"At your feet... a jar... take it..."

Grandma Li's throat sounded like a rusted-out machine, each word forced out with difficulty: "Inside... what you... need..."

Xiao Luo instinctively looked down. At her feet lay a wreath of white and yellow chrysanthemums, and in front of it, sure enough, was a small jar.

She picked it up as instructed. The jar, made of something like porcelain, was icy to the touch—light in weight but freezing enough to make her fingers twitch.

Hesitating, Xiao Luo sensed no malice from Grandma Li and wanted to ask her more, but the old woman's eyes had already returned to their lifeless stare, no longer acknowledging her.

Xiao Luo could only leave with the jar in hand. The moment she stepped over the threshold, the deathly chill clinging to her dissipated, as though she had returned to the world of the living.

Stomping her foot to reactivate the hallway light, Xiao Luo finally got a proper look at the jar. Its plain white surface was adorned with intricate, twisted crimson patterns, as though drawn in blood.

Carefully lifting the lid, she peered inside to find a pile of fine gray powder. A system prompt appeared before her:

「Item: Pallbearer's Ashes (B+)

Status: Voluntarily gifted by Li Lanyin. Non-transferable.

Description: The ashes of a high-level ability user in the domain of death. Those who disrespect them shall forever be haunted by death's shadow.

Rich in mystical energy, it may serve as an excellent ritual material.」

Li Lanyin—was that Grandma Li's full name?

Xiao Luo suddenly felt the small jar grow heavier in her hands. Grandma Li had... given her own ashes away?

This is downright creepy!

Though her scalp prickled with dread, Xiao Luo knew she had no time to indulge in the shock and horror churning inside her.

Just moments ago, "Gulu Gua" had privately messaged her the revered name of the Lord of Fate. Now, she had gathered all the simple ritual materials:

The ashes of a high-ranking being as a medium;

A divine serpent scale as a connection;

And a name that pointed directly to Him...

This meant Xiao Luo could attempt the Prayer Ritual at any time!

After wavering a heartbeat in the hallway, she stepped back into the triangular space beneath the stairs and murmured, "No better time than now—the longer I delay, the more danger I might face... Better to perform the ritual now!"

So she quickly swept the area clean, then tilted the ceramic urn slightly, pouring out a small portion of the ashes to form a crude circle on the ground.

Carefully placing the serpent scale at the center, Xiao Luo softly recited His name:

"Witness and Narrator who wanders beyond life and death, Samsara Ouroboros coiled at the edges of the planes..."

*Whoosh—whoosh—*

As the words rang clearly, a sudden wind seemed to rise from nowhere.

It howled through the narrow corridor, dispersing clinging dampness, its currents swirling and echoing.

Strangely, though the wind blew fiercely, the scattered ashes remained undisturbed, as if each fine grain anchored as if weighed down, unshakably shielding the serpent scale at the center.

An argent luminescence gradually emanated from the scale, illuminating the claustrophobic, lightless hollow beneath the stairs.

In that instant, a flash of lightning crossed Xiao Luo’s mind, briefly piercing the haze of her obscured memories, compelling her to add more words—

"You are the gold-veined eye that gazes upon the future, King of the Silver White Snakes, the fate of all living things..."

"Your devoted servant prays here, entreating Your answer to this plea!"

As the last word fell, Xiao Luo watched as the ashes were finally stirred by an unseen force, swirling around the growing radiance like a shimmering stellar current.

And deep within the light, a gold-veined eye slowly emerged, its elongated black pupil cleaving the center like a fissure leading straight into the abyss—inhuman, cold, and dangerous.

—In a world far removed, Yi Fengchu seemed to sense something. He lifted his gaze toward the direction of the prayer, casting a gaze across the abyss.

"The rift in that simulation seems to have widened a little more, but it’s still far from enough," he murmured.

"Still, at least the signal is stabilizing. I can slowly leak power through, bit by bit, replacing the NPCs within the simulation..."

Didn’t the Father of Nightmares strictly control the simulations, forbidding outside entities from entering?

—Then he would simply take on identities that already existed within them, gradually encroaching and consuming.

The moment Xiao Luo locked eyes with the gilded apparition, her mind was flooded with a deafening, cosmic drone.

It was as if the peal of destiny’s chime echoed in the depths of her consciousness, sending ripples of disarray through her thoughts, leaving her unable to think clearly.

"—I accept."

Laced with a viper’s whisper, the deity’s response was carried by the wind to Xiao Luo’s ears.

Woozy, she registered warmth trickling from her nose. Wiping it, she realized it was blood—two streams of crimson dripping onto the ground like blooming crimson petals.

After a long moment, the wind stilled.

The celestial glow at the ritual’s center dimmed like a dying ember, fading until it vanished entirely.

Regaining her senses, Xiao Luo hastily pulled out tissues to wipe the blood from her face and fingers, then stuffed tightly rolled tissues into her nostrils to stem the flow.

Before her, the scattered ashes had turned to wisps of smoke, consumed entirely by the ritual’s pact with the divine. Only the serpent scale remained, now sharper and more lustrous, casting a sinister sheen even in the shadows.

Cradling it meticulously in a clean tissue, Xiao Luo tucked it back into her pocket before whispering, "...Are You still there?"

"I am."

After a pause, His tone dripped with amusement. "You’ve done well. Our connection is now stable, but..."

"If you wish to manifest my form here, you must offer me more."

More... Did He mean the *fresh corpses* He had mentioned before?

Xiao Luo shuddered, sensing an oxymoronic fusion of malevolence and divinity within this deity—inscrutable, beyond mortal ken.