With Amon and his group searching for the wormlike creatures' nest, Eriavel slowly developing and building a dam, Dick busy uncovering information about Noah’s plans, and Aurelion monitoring Theia, there was nothing happening in the world below that required my immediate attention.
So I shifted my focus to the one task I had been postponing. The one task I was not sure I could accomplish.
I had already read the book on summoning magic and spent some time analyzing the two seals that blocked humanoid summons and undead ones.
Yet I still had not figured out how to create a seal that would prevent Noah from flooding my forest with his creations.
If there was one thing I was particularly worried about, it was his creatures of darkness.
Even if they would not be enough to defeat me, many velmoryns would still die fighting them. And that was something I needed to avoid.
I should understand the essence of summoning magic first.
My reasoning was simple.
Although Noah did not actually summon those creatures and merely opened portals for them to enter the mortal realm, I believed summoning magic worked in a similar manner.
Unless summoned creatures were created in that very moment by the caster’s mana and ceased to exist once the summoning ended...
No.
That was impossible.
Mana could not create life.
Besides, one of my strongest believers already possessed a summon. A powerful one at that.
Eshma.
The creature clearly existed beyond the mortal world and only manifested through Ninali’s mana. That meant summoning magic had to function as a gateway into another realm.
I recalled the explanations contained within the book and quickly realized something. It only described summoning from the caster’s perspective. It taught mages how to shape mana, how different affinities influenced what kind of creatures would answer the call, and how to maintain the connection.
But it explained nothing about how the process actually worked.
This is interesting.
Normally, I would have created another copy of myself and allowed it to experiment freely, but the number of avatars I could create was limited. More importantly, my consciousness would require time to recover if I created a being on Amon’s level.
I could not risk weakening myself now.
So instead, I decided to experiment personally.
What could possibly go wrong if I used mana instead of divine power and limited the amount I fed into the seal?
Channeling a sliver of divinity, I transformed it into formless mana.
[Warning: Creation consumed 0.1 Divinity Points!]
A silvery translucent wisp hovered before me, swaying like a thread of linen suspended in liquid.
The next step was simple as well.
With my perfect memory and absolute control over my powers, recreating a seal I had already seen was as easy as breathing.
Well, actually, breathing was much more difficult for me...
I decided to start with the simplest summon. My goal was not the result but the process itself. I wanted to observe how the seal functioned and understand what actually happened during summoning.
I did not particularly care what kind of creature answered.
The simplest seal described in the book was a diagram containing three runes, each enclosed within its own triangle and connected to the others. One of those runes appeared in Crimson Rite, while another was part of the spell Aria used to seize control of an enemy's body. In both cases, however, many additional runes were involved.
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To this day, I had no idea what any individual rune actually meant. A word. A letter. An entire sentence… There was no manual explaining them, and Guidance offered no answers. Not even Karla knew.
Before channeling mana into the seal etched onto the dark floor, I isolated that section of the God of Velmoryn’s dominion from the rest of my realm by surrounding it with thick layers of divinity.
If the summoning failed and brought forth something dangerous, I would simply exile it. But if that failed, I would collapse my divinity inward and erase whatever had entered my realm.
I checked once more that the seal was truly isolated.
As I did, I found myself mesmerized by my own divinity.
A thick crimson sphere surrounded the diagram. Its surface churned and swirled as though molten lava had somehow become liquid air.
Pride swelled within me as I directed a tiny portion of the silvery mana into the seal, confident that nothing could go wrong.
The book also mentioned that formless mana could summon almost any type of creature, though the strength of the summon depended heavily on the amount of mana used. The caster also needed to visualize the purpose of the summon and imagine the type of being they wished to call.
I chose a fox. Small, mischievous, and cute. Its purpose would simply be to play around.
I did my best to ensure it would not be powerful. Normally, I would not have cared. I was not afraid of gods while inside my own realm, let alone a summoned creature.
But who knew what kind of being might answer a god’s call?
The seal began to glow.
The runes lit up one by one, their light spreading into the triangles and then into the outer ring of the diagram.
As the glow intensified, steam rose from its surface.
Then the seal trembled.
The light grew so bright that it illuminated even the crimson sphere surrounding it. Had I been looking with actual eyes instead of sensing it, I might have been forced to shield them.
The entire process lasted only a few seconds.
As the light reached its peak, I sensed a connection form. It was far too brief and distant to track, so I channeled a sliver of my divinity through it, hoping to identify where the link led and, more importantly, what was on the other side.
Just as my divinity slipped through the crack created by the summoning, I felt a living presence appear inside my realm. And then, just as quickly, the crack disappeared.
[Warning: Passing the Divinity consumed 1 Divinity Point!][Warning: Divine Kingdom consumed 5 Divinity Points!][Warning: Divine Kingdom consumed 1 Divinity Point!][Warning: Divine Kingdom consumed 1 Divinity Point!][Warning: Divine Kingdom consumed 1 Divinity Point!]...
Blue windows flooded my vision. The first one was clearly related to the fraction of divinity I had sent through the crack created by the summoning.
But what was happening to my dominion?
The initial five Divinity Points made sense, but it continued consuming my power even as I tried to determine the reason.
Then I heard a voice.
It sounded somewhat like seagulls calling over the morning sea, or perhaps a small puppy crying for its mother.
The sound was unnatural, mostly because I could clearly see the creature that was making it. The one I had summoned, now standing inside my realm. It had effortlessly passed through the crimson sphere I had created around the seal, its thick white fur stained crimson.
It was far larger than I had imagined. Four tall legs supported a slender body that ended in four fluffy tails swaying gracefully behind it, bright cyan eyes fixed on me.
Not on the God of Velmoryn seated on the throne, but me. My true self.
Even V had failed to notice. Even Athena had failed to realize that the God of Velmoryn sitting on the throne was nothing more than a puppet. Yet this creature had immediately pinpointed my location and was staring directly at it, though its gaze could not pierce the veil surrounding my dominion.
“Why... was... I... summoned? What… are… you?”
Its thoughts drifted through my mind, slow and soothing.
A strange and fragile connection existed between us. I could feel the creature, and it could feel me, though I had no idea to what extent the fox could perceive my thoughts and emotions.
Guidance.
[The Summon]
The creature you have summoned is a Demigod. Additional information can only be obtained through direct observation or interaction.
Maintaining its presence within your dominion consumes 1 Divinity Point per second.