Heskeel looked up from the work he and Jacob had so much attention on.

The little boy noticed this. "Is he back?"

Huai Ting nodded.

It's been four days since the thief went out on business. Jacob didn't know which part surprised him the most: whether he had returned, or if it had taken him so long to come back. By this time, he already knew that something was going on in the Mage Quarter, because when Jacob snuck out under the cover of night to observe the market, it was all about it.

Weeks limped through the door to the former den of thieves, his left arm swollen and purple, and his right leg and foot no better. But the thief smiled strangely and patted the bag hanging over his shoulder.

"I got you blood, boss."

"You've done a great job bringing this to me," Jacob said, with a pleasant smile on his face and his scent hidden under the mask. The thief brought him not only four liters of rare demonic blood, but also two large books of immeasurable value.

The first, a bloodcloth-wrapped piece, is an obscure in-depth treatise on advanced demon-summoning rituals, and it also contains a number of useful spells that surpass the pause ritual in complexity and effectiveness, such as a spell aptly named the Loyalty Spawning Ritual. There were also some very strange rituals and spells that he hadn't used yet, as well as a long list of named demons.

Named demons are those who are summoned and bound by a name, and summoners can directly control them, allowing them to restore demons when they are killed or expelled. There are several demons who have been named by the Seven Evil Saints since birth, such as Carmeg, Duke of Doom, whom Raleigh used to refer to often because he was obedient to him. Raleigh seems proud to serve a demon who was born with a name.

The second book, a hardcover tome, is what really makes Jacob grateful for his thief. On the skin above the forehead, which covers the front, is printed with bold letters that read "Necromantic Script". With Heskel's help, he quickly flipped through the pages of the tome and finally deciphered the meaning of the title.

The smell of hazy memories emanated from his mask, and floating particles swirled around his face before disappearing into thin air.

"The Battle of the Undead and the Bones." He muttered reverently and in awe.

Hesquel snorted approvingly.

"You're doing a good job," Jacob repeated to the thief. "The gold is yours, and whatever you want me to give you."

Fleshc

afte

Looked Veks up and down.

"I can heal these wounds. I can even make you stronger. Reinvent you beyond the limits of your bestiality"

Wex gripped the blade of the Magic Mirror, his face contorted into a wide smile.

"I have some ideas."

Any thought of going to the Eight Holy Churches now seems far away. Weeks' mind was filled with the whispering and buzzing of the strange sword in his hand, forgetting which direction his moral compass should be pointing.

To prepare for the transformation of Veks, Jakob needed a few things, such as specialized tools, healthy samples, and a new assistant. To that end, Huskell and Holm were sent on errands, while Weeks wandered around the lab, watching him assemble bones, ligaments, and tendons with skillful efficiency. It seemed to Jacob that the thief had changed a bit, and while it may have been due to his windfall, he no longer behaved very submissively. However, Jacob does not mind, on the contrary, he prefers someone who does not waste his time on clichés, which many ritualized objects are accustomed to. The thief could do whatever he wanted, and Jacob didn't care. He had repaid a thousand times what the other servants could, so if he thought it appropriate to be idle, it was the reward he deserved, even if Jacob had a natural aversion to laziness. Moreover, he believes that his legs and arms are tied, which guarantees him a resting state.

"What are you doing?" Veks asked.

Jacob paused and looked at the man, who was balancing on the hind legs of the stool. "I didn't know you spoke Spanish," he replied curiously.

The thief put a hand to his lips, as if he hadn't even noticed that he was suddenly speaking this language of death fluently. Before he could defend himself, Jacob stopped him with a wave of his hand. It didn't matter, after all, things were much easier when he didn't have to carefully switch to Novarosian to speak to that person.

"To answer your question," Jacob began in Spanish, "I'm making a bone structure. The Necronomicon you brought me not only gave me inspiration, but also the method, especially the part about raising the inanimate and dead. ”

"What do you need to construct?"

Jacob pointed at him. "I need it to reshape you according to what you expect from me."

Around sunset, Jacob finished assembling his creation, and his creation was placed on a long operating table in front of him. It grew about 40 legs, each of which was made up of a set of phalanges, and the two different thumb bones he collected led to four large jaws growing near its head. For its central spine, he simply combined five human spine and rearranged the parts so that it had the widest head and the thinner tail.

Unfortunately, necromancy doesn't seem to have anything as convenient as grandfather's Amalgam Hymn, as all the instructions in the book seem to indicate that the joints are combined with screws and hinges, which would result in very limited flexibility. So, sticking to his surefire method of transplanting mismatched bones, ligaments, and tendons, Jacob sang a poem as he moved his work downward, his hands wandering over its immense length.

A characteristic of an amalgam hymn is that its length and verses vary according to the size and complexity of what is grafted together. This meant that Jacob had to play the Anthem for more than 12 minutes straight, but he had practiced a lot, so it wasn't too much of a test, although Weeks seemed impressed.

Once the mixture was complete, Jacob dragged the bone centipede from the table to the floor, the heavy thing more like a ten-meter-thick chain than a bone. After rolling it into a circle as tight as possible, he began to draw the hexagon. It's the same way he gives life to the tail, but in Nec

osc

There is a big difference in the complexity required for an IPT.

The resurrection ritual requires three necromantic scripts. The birth induction ceremony, which took twelve minutes. To make matters worse, Jacob had never drawn the Necrochant Manuscript before, and he always relied on Heskell for the task, but with this tome, dictionary, and instructions, he felt he could do it.

He had been repeating the requested mantra in his head carefully to keep it firmly in his mind, and he had put Nec

osc

Each capital letter of the IPT is written twenty times. Fortunately, the position of the words did not matter, however, when he added them to the hexagon, he still kept them evenly distributed.

After repeatedly examining each side of the hexagram, as well as his drawings and words, he knelt in front of the hexagram and touched the two horns of the star with both hands, where they overlapped the surrounding circles, and placed candles. Then he began to chant slowly, and six tallow candles made of human fat burst into white flames with blue edges. Halfway through his singing, he raised the tempo and pitch, and the flame of the candle followed his pitch, becoming a meter tall and taking on a slightly purple hue.

Then, when the chant ended, the flames bent inward and swooped down on the coiled centipede. Instantly, all the flames were extinguished, there seemed to be no light in the room, and their scattered candles were less vibrant.

However, Jacob barely notices this, as his eyes are firmly locked on the hexagon and the creature within its innermost circle.

The bone centipede slowly unfolded its body and stood up to greet the world around it, a kind of intelligence, and now in its anomalous form, there was nothingness a few minutes ago. Its jaws rattled with some emotion, and then walked towards its Creator, coiling around him where he knelt.

"Swear by the seven gods......" Weeks muttered. He fell out of his chair.

Jacob patted his conceived head affectionately.

"Now we just have to wait for the others to come back."

Haskell and Holm found their way back to the basement lab just before dusk, dragging two men and a woman with them. Considering the customers of the West Market, slaves were easily accessible without the need to provide a license or identification.

In addition to the slaves, Heskell brought a bag of tools and a variety of materials.

When they entered, Wex watched them suspiciously. "Where did you get all this money?" Are you hiding from me, little boy?"

"Hesquel is resourceful," Jacob replied with a shrug, ignoring his sarcasm.

Perhaps sensing the need to appease the greedy thief, the Night Monster pulled a pocket full of coins from his hemp pouch and threw it where he was standing on the back leg of the stool again.

Weeks caught it in the air without flinching, and then quickly flipped through its contents, apparently as happy as a child.

Jacob smiled slightly at his bluntness. "Don't blame the brute," he muttered, venting the used steam into the murky air of the basement.

When one of the slaves noticed Fleischcraft and what he was sitting on, they screamed. As the man tried to escape, the bone centipede sprang out from under Jacob, bouncing around the floor with its 40 bony legs, grabbing the man trying to escape with its powerful jaws, and knocking him to the ground.

Before the slave could hit the hard stone, Heskel grabbed his unkempt hair, stopping his momentum.

"Don't interrupt," he rebuked. What strikes Jacob as odd is that White has not acknowledged its existence until now, but perhaps he has become accustomed to seeing structures, working under his grandfather, who loves fantasy, for a long time.

"Sooner or later, it will learn," Jacob commented.

Heskel looked at the idea, and he pulled the slave up, fist a vise around his neck. Then he snorted approvingly.

"What are we going to do with them?" The thief asked, pointing his mirror sword at the three frightened men.

Jacob made a simple gesture for Holm to go back to his stand, and then he thought about it, brought the centipede back to him, and sat down on its coiled body again, gathering below him.

"Obviously, we're going to disassemble them."