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After a day filled with shock and fear, time passed.

Naturally, Iserin, who had fallen asleep right after witnessing the ritual, had a nightmare. In that nightmare, animals with only heads flew through the sky in a chaotic scene, akin to how the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl tread on the bridge made of stars, and there was Jinseong, commanding like a leader, stepping on a bridge made of heads.

‘Isn’t this a prophetic dream or something?’

[ It’s nonsense. ]

Despite being adamant that the dream was undoubtedly linked to symbolism and held significant meaning, Iserin searched the internet and scoured the mansion’s library to prove her point to the demon. Meanwhile, the demon, recalling the magic and foundational knowledge it had observed over the years, attempted to speculate.

However, their efforts were fruitless.

Even two days after witnessing the shocking ritual, both Iserin and the demon could only guess that it was intended to create “some kind of item,” with no idea about the local magic involved or its mechanisms.

Thus, Iserin had nothing to say to Iarin, who came looking for her, claiming, “It’s strange for a non-blood-related cohabitant to not be biologically programmed as an enemy.” All she could do was speculate that it couldn’t possibly be a harmful ritual, recalling how Jinseong had tried to treat them well.

“Iarin, my brother has become a little… a little strange, but still….”

“Oh~ he won’t harm us, right? I know that~”

Iarin fluttered the chest area of her yellow pajamas as she spoke.

“Ah, it’s hot~”

“Then why are you wearing that…?”

“It’s not because of the clothes that it’s hot; you know… Argh, never mind.”

Iarin stopped fluttering and sighed lightly. Her slightly reddened face wasn’t from the heat or warmth but for some other reason.

“What I’m saying is, isn’t that brother doing something weird to his body?”

“Pfft.”

Iserin couldn’t help but laugh at Iarin’s embarrassed expression, but as soon as she glared at her with a serious face, Iserin quickly stiffened her expression and replied.

“It’s, um, fine… probably….”

[ That’s right. Since the form of the species remains intact, it shouldn’t be dangerous. However, since I can’t guarantee complete safety, perhaps it would be good to frequently check that man’s health. ]

Iarin closely observed the gloomy face of her twin, who was insisting it was okay, and smiled.

“Well, doing something strange has always been his thing. If he’s healthy, it can’t be a problem.”

* * *

“Healthy.”

Jinseong murmured while sitting cross-legged in his room.

‘At this point, my body is very healthy.’

Despite having undergone a small-scale ritual, he felt a twinge of emotion at the fact that his body was fine.

Before his rewind, it was common for him to spit blood after a ritual, and in severe cases, pieces of his torn insides would even come up when he coughed. There were times when his flesh would rot away while still alive, and mold had covered his body as well.

‘To think that after the ritual, it only resulted in a slight cold for three days. Truly satisfying.’

A ritual required a price to be paid.

Whether that price was small or large.

The problem was that this price was incredibly unpredictable.

Rituals were typically conducted on a large scale and were administered by multiple shamans. Shamanic rituals offered tremendous benefits but came with nightmarish difficulties and risks that were far too great to handle alone.

However, even if the same ritual was conducted, the cost differed significantly.

Some would suddenly have their gallbladder filled with stones, while others would only end up with a few liver spots.

One might think this meant that it was applied differently to each person, but the unpredictable “cost of the ritual” could mean that the same person undergoing the same shamanic ritual would sometimes spit blood and need to be hospitalized, while other times, it would only result in a stye.

Clearly, there had to be some rules governing this, yet there was no way to know what they were.

Thus, shamans referred to this cost of a shamanic ritual as “the will of the heavens” or “the choice of chaos.”

‘But there is undoubtedly a way to reduce the risks.’

However, just because the cost varied didn’t mean there wasn’t a way to diminish it. Offering something as a sacrifice to disperse disaster and prevent calamity was, among all special abilities, overwhelmingly dominated by shamanic practices.

Resources.

Sacrifices.

Those power holders and shamans who could not forget the sweetness of large-scale shamanic rituals continuously sought means to reduce their risks, and they discovered these two elements.

By offering a sacrifice that would instead bear the misfortune, they lessened the cost, and by providing resources, they further reduced it.

While it was impossible to avoid paying a price, they found ways to lessen it instead.

Severe injuries to mild ones.

That’s why nowadays, shamans, when conducting large-scale shamanic rituals, must summon expensive sacrifices and resources to infinitely reduce risks. They also take care to avoid any defilements and maintain cleanliness through purification rituals.

Of course, the costs involved in these processes were astronomical, but…

Isn’t it still better than shamans dropping dead after every ritual?

‘But why does that method reduce the risks? No one knows.’

As is often the case with shamanism, there were no answers to “why does it reduce the risks?” Yet many shamans, throughout history, had come to learn that such methods did reduce the risks of rituals, ultimately becoming the manual and bible of shamanic rites.

‘But I know. That this shamanic ritual calculates the costs in bizarre ways…’

This realization was the fruit of Jinseong’s madness, which had relentlessly pursued shamanism with a body resembling a living corpse.

‘Roulette.’

Even amidst the ongoing Third World War, Jinseong had drifted around as a mercenary, encountering numerous shamanic rituals. He had excavated some from ruins, discovered others from the remnants of fallen factions, and at times, they were even offered as rewards for mercenary contracts. He also asked groups he had a positive relationship with to participate in rituals and, conversely, resorted to threats or displays of force to steal shamanic methods from those he didn’t get along with.

And so, while living off the money earned from mercenary work, he eventually reached a realization.

‘It’s random.’

Shamanic rituals had evolved into a system of high risk for high return.

A spell wishing for a bountiful harvest from a single piece of farmland transformed into one for an entire village, and from a village to a nation.

Magic used to wish for a sip of water during severe drought became weather magic for rain.

As human territories expanded and societal ranges widened, so too did the scope of shamanism, eventually reaching the grandest unit recognizable to humans—”countries.”

Naturally, the old rites that granted small-scale benefits were forgotten, replaced by those that offered large-scale advantages.

But the obsessed Jinseong gathered those old rites indiscriminately, despite warnings from others that “it’s inefficient,” “there’s nothing to gain compared to the effort,” and “it’s outdated and useless.” He sourced all the preparations solely with his funds and conducted rituals alone without any help from other shamans.

However, while continuously performing forgotten old shamanic rituals, Jinseong uncovered a peculiar fact.

‘Old shamanic rituals that were completely forgotten have the same cost.’

The sense of incongruity surfaced when he used a healing shamanic ritual.

Being a mercenary often led to injuries, some of which didn’t directly threaten his life but would certainly affect it in the long run.

For example, injuries to the stomach or internal organs, or strong impacts to the eyes or blood clots in the head.

These injuries might appear fine for a moment, but if left alone, they could lead to hospitalization or prolonged downtime from mercenary work, so he often turned to healing rituals to treat himself despite the risks.

It was much better to take a brief risk than to live with a ticking time bomb.

Fortunately, he had gathered many spells related to healing, and there were many that could treat internal injuries. This was due to the convenience of using methods that disrupted and damaged the insides for assassinations, as well as the development of spells to heal internal injuries and detoxify poisons as a countermeasure.

However, naturally, the effectiveness varied slightly between rituals, and Jinseong would often use different spells according to each specific situation.

Then one day, on the third use of the healing ritual known as Seonggwang Eunsangje (Sacred Light Blessing), Jinseong noticed something strange.

‘Doesn’t it seem like the cost is the same as last time?’

 

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