Reading settings
Chapter 351: Resurrection
Somewhere in New Mexico, Stephen, Nicodemus, and Lisen arrived cautiously.
Stephen and Nicodemus, their expressions grave, were jointly using the Book of Vishanti to search for something.
Following behind them was the gloomy-faced Lisen.
Lisen had a strange background. He was a loyal worshipper of Black Adam, considering himself his servant. A long time ago, he had assumed a different identity to infiltrate Kamar-Taj, starting as a Novice Sorcerer.
He wanted to reach a high-ranking position, on par with Mordo or Wong, but neither Ancient One nor Tony paid any attention to this self-proclaimed clever idiot. Lisen's presence was purely a spare piece on the board, one that might become useful someday.
For the past few years, Lisen's heart had been gnawed at day and night as if by maggots, filled with regret and resentment.
Previously, he had clashed with Tony more than once, driven by jealousy over Ancient One's favor towards Tony, and also by a desire to step on Tony to increase his own visibility, hoping to attract a group of supporters and Ancient One's attention.
But who the hell knew Tony would become the Sorcerer Supreme?
How was that possible? Tony was ultimately an outsider. How could that old woman, Ancient One, agree to let this guy take over as Sorcerer Supreme?
Why wasn't it me!
Lisen was going crazy. If he had just opened his eyes and befriended Tony earlier, he would be Tony's right-hand man right now!
Even if he hadn't befriended him, just not being hostile would have been enough, but... he had offended Tony badly.
Lisen had grown gaunt, living every day in fear and regret. He was terrified that Tony would one day settle the score with him, and worried that being expelled from Kamar-Taj would delay the grand undertaking of reviving Lord Black Adam.
What he didn't know, however, was that Tony couldn't be bothered with him at all.
He was just a brainless servant. As long as Black Adam remained dormant, this Lisen was nothing more than a clown jumping up and down.
"This is the place!"
Stephen ceased his magical efforts, his expression grave as he spoke.
"Are you really going to do this? Even if you succeed, how will the Sorcerer Supreme treat your brother?" Nicodemus asked with some concern.
"I'll go to him and confess my transgressions!" Stephen gritted his teeth, his eyes turning slightly red. "But my brother, Victor... I must resurrect him!"
Nicodemus glanced helplessly at his old partner. It was always like this. Back when they were doctors in Philadelphia, the proud Stephen had always been this way—stubborn and willful.
Lisen said indifferently, "Let's be clear. If you succeed, according to our prior agreement, you have to lend me the Book of Vishanti."
Stephen and Nicodemus exchanged a glance but didn't reply.
This guy named Lisen had been trying to win them over for a while. Thinking back, it seemed he had only started making his moves—acting incredibly attentive—after they had displayed their extraordinary talent for magic.
The two of them were top figures in their former profession; they had seen more than their fair share of shady dealings and weren't about to be easily swayed. They maintained a sense of vigilance in their hearts.
This was especially true when Lisen, who had come over enthusiastically to build rapport, discovered Stephen secretly researching resurrection magic. Lisen was the one who suggested they steal the Book of Vishanti.
"Anyway, that book has just been sitting there for hundreds of years. Nobody ever touches it. As long as we sneak it out and put it back carefully, no one will find out, let alone discover you used the Book of Vishanti to resurrect the dead."
Lisen explained with a relaxed expression, patting both their shoulders familiarly.
Stephen nodded but didn't respond. He entered a dilapidated bar, chanted a spell, and a surge of active mystic energy began to brew, connecting to the Book of Vishanti.
The mystical tome slowly opened. Its seemingly endless pages, like an ocean of paper, flipped at a frantic speed before suddenly stopping on a specific page.
Countless particles of mystic energy, invisible to the naked eye, surged from Stephen's hands. They communed with reality and merged into the Book of Vishanti. Triggered by the powerful magic recorded within the book, they emitted a light that transcended space-time and crossed dimensions to communicate with a mysterious world.
The World of Souls.
A dazzling light began to pierce through, attracting innumerable vicious souls who swarmed forward. They scrambled over one another, reaching out their arms toward the only light in this world, their faces etched with longing.
But the beam of light passed them by.
No matter how hard these Undead Souls tried, they were ignored by the guiding light.
The Undead Souls grew furious. They let out silent screams, their faces twisting madly as they rammed into the light. Each impact caused large numbers of the Undead Souls to be annihilated into dust, but it also caused the light to flicker precariously.
"I can't hold on, there are too many of them..." In just over twenty seconds, Stephen was drenched in sweat. The outpouring mystic energy was rapidly draining his body and soul to maintain the light's existence.
And this was with the enhancement of the Book of Vishanti. On his own, Stephen wouldn't just be unable to maintain the light; it would be a miracle if he could even sense the world of the undead.
There are many methods of Resurrection. Stephen had chosen the safest but also the least technical one: brute-forcing it with the Book of Vishanti to pull someone out of the Realm of the Dead.
Nicodemus hurriedly infused his mystic energy, barely managing to sustain the spell.
Lisen, on the other hand, stood idly by, his occasional glances toward the Book of Vishanti filled with greed and desire.
With this thing, he could leap from being an ordinary Sorcerer to a Powerful Mage. This was a divine artifact, one of the weapons Ancient One used when she slaughtered gods.
The guiding light traveled onward, seeking the soul that had died at the location of the living. In the great beyond, a dazed Wraith followed the light, crossing through numerous worlds to return to the mortal plane.
The light converged in reality, gathering inside the dilapidated little bar. It transitioned from a scattered form and began to take shape, as vast quantities of mystical particles constructed a body from scratch to house this soul.
This was also a complicated process, but the magic of the Book of Vishanti demonstrated its power. It contained a ready-made magical framework that bypassed the caster, directly targeting the soul's trait to reverse-engineer the structure of its body.
The light gradually faded, and a pale young man suddenly appeared on the floor. He was very young, with sharp, knife-like eyebrows identical to Stephen's, but his eyes were tightly shut.
"Victor... Victor!" Stephen's eyes grew moist. He dropped the Book of Vishanti and rushed forward, shaking his brother Victor's body. But his hands felt no warmth at all, only an icy coldness.
"Stephen, something's not right..."
Nicodemus observed for a moment, his expression changing slightly. He pointed at Victor's mouth. From between his lips, two sharp fangs protruded...
(end of chapter)
Somewhere in New Mexico, Stephen, Nicodemus, and Lisen arrived cautiously.
Stephen and Nicodemus, their expressions grave, were jointly using the Book of Vishanti to search for something.
Following behind them was the gloomy-faced Lisen.
Lisen had a strange background. He was a loyal worshipper of Black Adam, considering himself his servant. A long time ago, he had assumed a different identity to infiltrate Kamar-Taj, starting as a Novice Sorcerer.
He wanted to reach a high-ranking position, on par with Mordo or Wong, but neither Ancient One nor Tony paid any attention to this self-proclaimed clever idiot. Lisen's presence was purely a spare piece on the board, one that might become useful someday.
For the past few years, Lisen's heart had been gnawed at day and night as if by maggots, filled with regret and resentment.
Previously, he had clashed with Tony more than once, driven by jealousy over Ancient One's favor towards Tony, and also by a desire to step on Tony to increase his own visibility, hoping to attract a group of supporters and Ancient One's attention.
But who the hell knew Tony would become the Sorcerer Supreme?
How was that possible? Tony was ultimately an outsider. How could that old woman, Ancient One, agree to let this guy take over as Sorcerer Supreme?
Why wasn't it me!
Lisen was going crazy. If he had just opened his eyes and befriended Tony earlier, he would be Tony's right-hand man right now!
Even if he hadn't befriended him, just not being hostile would have been enough, but... he had offended Tony badly.
Lisen had grown gaunt, living every day in fear and regret. He was terrified that Tony would one day settle the score with him, and worried that being expelled from Kamar-Taj would delay the grand undertaking of reviving Lord Black Adam.
What he didn't know, however, was that Tony couldn't be bothered with him at all.
He was just a brainless servant. As long as Black Adam remained dormant, this Lisen was nothing more than a clown jumping up and down.
"This is the place!"
Stephen ceased his magical efforts, his expression grave as he spoke.
"Are you really going to do this? Even if you succeed, how will the Sorcerer Supreme treat your brother?" Nicodemus asked with some concern.
"I'll go to him and confess my transgressions!" Stephen gritted his teeth, his eyes turning slightly red. "But my brother, Victor... I must resurrect him!"
Nicodemus glanced helplessly at his old partner. It was always like this. Back when they were doctors in Philadelphia, the proud Stephen had always been this way—stubborn and willful.
Lisen said indifferently, "Let's be clear. If you succeed, according to our prior agreement, you have to lend me the Book of Vishanti."
Stephen and Nicodemus exchanged a glance but didn't reply.
This guy named Lisen had been trying to win them over for a while. Thinking back, it seemed he had only started making his moves—acting incredibly attentive—after they had displayed their extraordinary talent for magic.
The two of them were top figures in their former profession; they had seen more than their fair share of shady dealings and weren't about to be easily swayed. They maintained a sense of vigilance in their hearts.
This was especially true when Lisen, who had come over enthusiastically to build rapport, discovered Stephen secretly researching resurrection magic. Lisen was the one who suggested they steal the Book of Vishanti.
"Anyway, that book has just been sitting there for hundreds of years. Nobody ever touches it. As long as we sneak it out and put it back carefully, no one will find out, let alone discover you used the Book of Vishanti to resurrect the dead."
Lisen explained with a relaxed expression, patting both their shoulders familiarly.
Stephen nodded but didn't respond. He entered a dilapidated bar, chanted a spell, and a surge of active mystic energy began to brew, connecting to the Book of Vishanti.
The mystical tome slowly opened. Its seemingly endless pages, like an ocean of paper, flipped at a frantic speed before suddenly stopping on a specific page.
Countless particles of mystic energy, invisible to the naked eye, surged from Stephen's hands. They communed with reality and merged into the Book of Vishanti. Triggered by the powerful magic recorded within the book, they emitted a light that transcended space-time and crossed dimensions to communicate with a mysterious world.
The World of Souls.
A dazzling light began to pierce through, attracting innumerable vicious souls who swarmed forward. They scrambled over one another, reaching out their arms toward the only light in this world, their faces etched with longing.
But the beam of light passed them by.
No matter how hard these Undead Souls tried, they were ignored by the guiding light.
The Undead Souls grew furious. They let out silent screams, their faces twisting madly as they rammed into the light. Each impact caused large numbers of the Undead Souls to be annihilated into dust, but it also caused the light to flicker precariously.
"I can't hold on, there are too many of them..." In just over twenty seconds, Stephen was drenched in sweat. The outpouring mystic energy was rapidly draining his body and soul to maintain the light's existence.
And this was with the enhancement of the Book of Vishanti. On his own, Stephen wouldn't just be unable to maintain the light; it would be a miracle if he could even sense the world of the undead.
There are many methods of Resurrection. Stephen had chosen the safest but also the least technical one: brute-forcing it with the Book of Vishanti to pull someone out of the Realm of the Dead.
Nicodemus hurriedly infused his mystic energy, barely managing to sustain the spell.
Lisen, on the other hand, stood idly by, his occasional glances toward the Book of Vishanti filled with greed and desire.
With this thing, he could leap from being an ordinary Sorcerer to a Powerful Mage. This was a divine artifact, one of the weapons Ancient One used when she slaughtered gods.
The guiding light traveled onward, seeking the soul that had died at the location of the living. In the great beyond, a dazed Wraith followed the light, crossing through numerous worlds to return to the mortal plane.
The light converged in reality, gathering inside the dilapidated little bar. It transitioned from a scattered form and began to take shape, as vast quantities of mystical particles constructed a body from scratch to house this soul.
This was also a complicated process, but the magic of the Book of Vishanti demonstrated its power. It contained a ready-made magical framework that bypassed the caster, directly targeting the soul's trait to reverse-engineer the structure of its body.
The light gradually faded, and a pale young man suddenly appeared on the floor. He was very young, with sharp, knife-like eyebrows identical to Stephen's, but his eyes were tightly shut.
"Victor... Victor!" Stephen's eyes grew moist. He dropped the Book of Vishanti and rushed forward, shaking his brother Victor's body. But his hands felt no warmth at all, only an icy coldness.
"Stephen, something's not right..."
Nicodemus observed for a moment, his expression changing slightly. He pointed at Victor's mouth. From between his lips, two sharp fangs protruded...
(end of chapter)
