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墨書 Inktalez
The student's face darkened further, his tone carrying an elusive sense of mystery. His voice was low, as if he were recounting an ancient secret, a taboo hidden in the shadows of history. "According to legend," he said slowly, a strange light gleaming in his eyes, "within the ancient Blood Moon Cult, there exists a secret ritual—the Sacrificial Ritual. When enough lives are sacrificed to the Blood Moon, it will rise again, and true power will descend."
James furrowed his brow, feeling a twinge of unease, but he forced himself to remain calm. His fingers lightly drummed on the table, trying to mask the discomfort brewing inside him.
"At that time," the student continued with fervor in his voice, "the power of the Blood Moon will choose an anointed one. That person will possess supreme power and wisdom, no longer bound by the shackles of life and death. Their life will never fade; their mind will remain eternally clear. They will transcend all limitations and control everything in the world. Life and death, time and fate—all will be at their command."
As James listened to these words, an uncontrollable absurdity surged within him. He couldn't help but let out a scoff, his laughter laced with disdain and mockery. These words sounded like some ridiculous conspiracy theory, utterly disconnected from the academic world he knew. Blood Moon Cult? Sacrifice? Supreme power? These were mere nonsensical ramblings that could not shake his calm and rational mind.
"Haha... are you serious?" James sneered, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth, clearly displaying his contempt. His gaze was filled with mockery as if he were looking at a child lost in fantasy. "Have you been watching too many old conspiracy videos? Spending all day online consuming that pseudoscience and conspiracy garbage has surely warped your mind," he said with heavy sarcasm and scorn evident in his eyes.
To him, this was nothing more than the student's infatuation with baseless urban legends. Blood Moon Cult? Supreme power? Such absurd statements were hardly worth taking seriously. James not only scoffed at these claims but also found amusement in the student's ridiculous words. He believed this was merely a childish fantasy unworthy of further discussion.
However, despite his outward dismissal of these ideas, a flicker of unease lingered deep within him. That unease followed him like a shadow, as if certain things the student had said had touched upon some hidden desires and fears within him.
Just as James's laughter faded, the student showed no signs of anger or even impatience. He simply gazed calmly at James, his eyes reflecting an indescribable mystery as if he held some unknown secret. A smile appeared on his face—one that seemed to dismiss James's mockery while simultaneously revealing a disquieting insight.
The student's movements were slow and deliberate as he reached into his backpack and pulled out a thick book. The book appeared exceptionally old; its dark red cover was worn and tattered, with cracks at the corners indicating it had been read countless times and weathered by time's passage. It exuded an air of antiquity, as if it bore the touch and secrets of generations past—a weight of history that sent a strange pressure into James's chest.
The way the student extended the book towards James felt both natural and laden with an inexplicable sense of fate, as if this moment had been predetermined. From the instant James took hold of the book, the gears of destiny began to turn irreversibly.
James hesitated for a moment, his gaze sliding over the cover; its dark red surface gleamed ominously as if soaked in blood. Instinctively, he reached out; when his fingers brushed against the cover, a cold sensation rapidly spread through his body from his fingertips, causing him to shudder involuntarily. It felt like something forbidden—an object imbued with invisible pressure and mystery—that made him want to withdraw his hand. Yet curiosity and the allure of the unknown compelled him to grasp it firmly.
The book was heavier than he had anticipated; this weight was not merely physical but carried an indescribable sense of oppression—as if it bore an ancient and dark curse. The moment James held it tightly in his hands, a strong metallic scent suddenly assaulted his nostrils—a smell so potent it made him dizzy. It was not the odor of an ordinary book but rather reminiscent of death—a mix of blood and decay that invaded his mind relentlessly.
"What is this...?" James furrowed his brow, looking down at the book in his hands. The dark red cover seemed to emit a faint glow under the light, as if it concealed some indescribable evil. His heart began to race, cold sweat trickling down his forehead, and he felt a silent whisper echoing in his mind, as if the book held unknown secrets that were trying to reveal a forbidden truth to him.
The student took a step back, his tone still calm, but this time his voice became deep and carried an indescribable weight, as if the book was not merely an object but a key to the unknown. "Professor, I believe you will find the answers," he said softly, his eyes reflecting an unusual determination. "This book will guide you to the true truth... the power of the Blood Moon lies within it. When you uncover its secrets, you will understand that all answers have long been inscribed in the trajectory of fate."
His words seemed to carry a curse, each syllable resonating in James's mind. That mysterious tone instilled in James an inexplicable sense of destiny, as if the moment he touched the book, the wheels of fate could no longer cease their turning.
After saying this, the student turned and left, his footsteps light and silent, as if his presence was merely an illusion. The instant he exited the room, the entire space felt emptier; the temperature dropped sharply, and the air grew heavy, as if it had been siphoned away.
James remained rooted in place, gripping the ancient book that exuded a metallic scent, his mind in chaos. His heartbeat thudded like a drum, cold sweat soaking through his clothes, yet he could not tear his gaze away from the book. Its weight pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe; the student's words echoed in his ears—Blood Moon's power, eternal truth, sacrificial ritual...
"Is this... really...?" A wave of horror washed over James, yet he could not resist the intense desire deep within him. He felt as though he stood on the edge of an unknown abyss; with just one more step forward, he would plunge into that bottomless darkness.
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