Chapter 42: Holy Communion
The Spencer family, of course, had their own private soldiers. Even when coming to Lungmen for so-called non-political interference , they definitely had their own bodyguard team. And these bodyguards were completely loyal to the Spencer family; they would forever serve the Spencer family, willing to offer their own lives for him.
Then let's consider it from another perspective: these commoners are willing to give their lives for oneself, which means their lives have already become something one can exchange. Whether for profit or as tools, they are all items that can be traded. Blood and life have already become a currency; the meaning of these commoners' existence is manifested in their devotion to the nobility—this is their reason to live.
The nobles of Victoria all have such private soldiers, although many lower-level council members claim this is blasphemous, violating human rights. But the question is, does it really violate so-called human rights? One provides stability for their families, and they offer their lives for oneself. This is merely an exchange. After all, these commoners are like dry reeds, empty within, never having anything else take root. The greatest contribution of these hollow fellows is to allow the nobles to use them well, use them in some correct places, to avoid wasting time.
So, it was a very normal thing for Lord Spencer to summon a guard to his room. It was also a very normal thing to use his own blood to paint one rune after another without changing expression. It was also a very normal thing to use hidden Originium props to stir the surrounding atmosphere.
The slave who had lost himself lost his soul at the softly whispering dinner table. Lord Spencer personally saw that screaming soul being drawn out by the sigil, then arbitrarily kneaded and deformed, reshaped onto that person's body under an immense and indescribable power. Causing him to die, while maintaining a certain state of consciousness. Only in this way could the ritual truly be maintained. The sacrifice must watch everything happen with open eyes.
His bones and blood, his soul, his flesh, all for sustenance.
"This is your greatest use…"
My, food.
Lord Spencer looked at the sacrifice, whose eyes were nearly popping out due to pain, bound to the dinner plate unable to move, and revealed a mysterious smile.
Just like at the countless royal banquets he had attended before, he elegantly picked up the knife and fork, slowly aiming at the silently screaming sacrifice, his bloodshot eyeballs filled with an unnatural fanaticism. Even the surrounding candlelight turned a ghastly dark green.
Several hours later, because the efficiency of the knife and fork was too slow, the hand that had taken over slowly lowered. The once huge guard on the table had long since disappeared, leaving only a wall full of bloodstains and some traces of struggle. Lord Spencer sat dazedly on the chair, looking at the blood-stained dinner plate, greedily licking the corner of his mouth. Sucking the last bit of flesh into his mouth, then spitting out a tuft of hair. He stared intently at the mirror deliberately placed opposite.
And looking at himself in the mirror, Lord Spencer gradually smiled with satisfaction.
"It's effective… It's really effective…"
Looking at himself in the opposite mirror—some hair remaining on his lips, the table full of messy bloodstains, the blood having completely dyed his evening suit into a filthy mess—Earl Spencer showed a gratified smile. The shreds of meat still wriggling in his teeth gradually seeped into his body and disappeared.
The Flesh Eucharist; he needed to prepare it in a secret room. Just a huge dining table capable of holding a human body, a sacrifice, plus some blood and Originium fragments were enough to successfully create the life-extending ritual. The effect was unexpectedly simple and incredible. Using the techniques described in that mad grimoire, after combining soul and flesh, the sacrifice would transform into a great Eucharist, placed on the dinner plate.
During the duration of the Eucharist, however many pieces of the Eucharist's flesh one ate, one's lifespan could be rejuvenated by that much. And the specific extension of life depended on the sacrifice's own strength and health. And the guards, clearly, for the nobles of Victoria, these guards' minds weren't very sharp, but their flesh and bones were undoubtedly very sturdy. Each of them was an excellent vessel for the Eucharist. After ingesting the entire guard, Lord Spencer simply felt as if he had returned to his youngest age. Whether it was his agile skill, clear thinking, or the taste of blood and rust-like air between his lips and teeth.
Everything was so real. The ingested Eucharist successfully extended the noble's life. And what was even more terrifying was that the requirements for this ritual were not high. It didn't even require the ritual sacrifice to be willing. As long as there was blood, a sacrifice, and the desire to live, it would be completed no matter how many times.
And no matter how many times, life could be extended.
'A pity, that great magician seems to have already died.'
Loosening his tie, which had become somewhat tight due to the viscous blood, Lord Spencer looked at the middle-aged man bathed in blood in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction.
The end of that file clearly stated that if this file was not by his side, it must have been seized by someone. He only hoped someone could properly pass down the things described in this mad grimoire, breaking the inexplicable sanctity and protagonist mentality covering people.
Lord Spencer was incomparably regretful about this, and also incomparably happy. That such a genius couldn't protect his own file was clearly because, as he said, he was killed by those Aegirians or secret cultists hidden around the world. But this great research would become the foundation of Victoria's standing. To some extent, he had also fulfilled this author's last wish. This nameless author would be eternally listed as Victoria's most respected contributor.
Lord Spencer wouldn't go so far as to embezzle the wealth of such a great deceased person, because he had already attained immortality and needed no other honors.
"Number Two, come in and clean up the things here. Then help me find a new set of clothes."
"Yes."
The guard who pushed open the door and walked in nodded indifferently, seeming not to see the blood covering the walls, nor the hair at the corner of Lord Spencer's lips.
And Lord Spencer took out a relatively clean handkerchief from his pocket, elegantly wiped the corner of his mouth, and flicked off the bloodstains on his clothes. While the guard was still dealing with the remains, he took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror, suddenly younger by decades, and showed a warm smile.
"I am the one who brought hope to Victoria."
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