At this moment, there was less than an hour left until the end of the ritual.
To be precise, there were only twenty minutes left.
Even if Aiwass could control the Hook Demon to lead the way, it was already too late.
Not to mention how horrifying it would be to have that thing ride in a carriage, even if he found a way to take one, there was no time to get there.
The ritual had a reserved time of four hours, and Little Aiwass had been cursed upon entering.
Calculating based on the "ideal situation" projected by the Pillar God that created the dream, Aiwass should have immediately taken Lulu and left the cathedral to head directly to Judiciary Square, which was a half-hour journey away.
Upon arrival, the Hook Demon made its first appearance. After collaborating with Sherlock to repel it, they had a little over three hours left to gather companions, follow the Hook Demon to find the culprit, and defeat them. This was where Sherlock's wisdom came into play.
This indicated that their enemy's location was not that easy to find. It might require the reasoning of the Path of Wisdom to locate.
However, Aiwass felt his own brain was quite useful and thought he should be able to find it with the Hook Demon leading the way.
The only miscalculation Aiwass had was that this enemy was rather stubborn.
After trying to attack the Bone Sculptor once, the Cursing Sorcerer was not yet disheartened and decided to send the Hook Demon to try again.
But this time, instead of defeating him, the Hook Demon was wounded. This proved that the "Bone Sculptor" was indeed a very powerful Transcendent and was likely the muscle of their team. This directly led to Aiwass being attacked when time was almost up.
This should have been good news. It meant he only needed to evade a bit longer, and he could outlast the clock and win.
However, what Aiwass wanted was to strike back.
Even if he couldn't identify the mastermind behind the scenes, at the very least he wanted to see for himself what the Cursing Sorcerer looked like.
...So now, he could only hope for "possibility."
He had one chance left to meet the Cursing Sorcerer in less than twenty minutes.
Not by teleportation, because Aiwass had no means to curse the Cursing Sorcerer in return.
—It was through a counter-summoning instead.
After the Hook Demon completed its task, it would be recalled by the Cursing Sorcerer. Just as it had been when it failed to attack Lulu before.
Suddenly appearing before that Cursing Sorcerer could certainly be considered a kind of "instant movement."
All Aiwass needed to do was, like Jack the Ripper, merge his own spirit with that of the Hook Demon.
The ritual particularly emphasized that there was no need to survive.
So, he might as well conduct an experiment right now.
An experiment that definitely wasn't a loss, even if it failed... an experiment that couldn't be performed in reality.
—How strong could the "Shepherd's Nurturing," a voluntary sacrifice of one's complete life, truly be?
Without any auxiliary materials and not being strong himself, could a high-efficiency self-sacrifice match the Enhancement that Jack the Ripper's serial killing ritual had provided the Hook Demon?
"Feed in Silence, my lamb."
Watching the Hook Demon, whose eyes were widened and fixed on himself, Aiwass spoke softly, gripping the paper knife, "I am the sacrament, this is mercy."
He had no anointing oils at hand to infuse with Mana, and in his hand was a paper cutter, not a pure silver Ritual Dagger.
It was as if the seasoning spices that flavor a feast were missing. The decoration was missing, too.
But if the food itself is delicious and plentiful, its natural flavor is enough to captivate.
Moreover, it was not an arrogant Upper-Level Demon that was enjoying the feast but merely a despicable Hook Demon born from the shredded embryonic souls entangled in iron hooks.
It was a little demon that had wrestled out of the hatred for a predestined death, and had been born from the will to defy "its non-existence," filled with hatred and anger.
It had no pride to speak of.
"Feast on the blood from my neck, drink thirstily as if it were sweet wine—"
With a loud chant, Aiwass opened himself up as if unzipping a zipper.
—From the left to the right, he firmly slit his own throat with the paper knife.
What he had cut was the artery above his collarbone.
Immediately, Aiwass's consciousness began to blur, and his vision darkened.
Yet, his brain seemed to become clearer, as if time itself had slowed down.
He keenly felt how swiftly his life was draining away. But it wasn't life retreating from the flesh into the void... instead, the soul with its fiery Mana, following the blood from his neck, gushed out in a crystallized form.
"...He must have killed himself."
As the Death Knell sounded, Sherlock spoke gravely.
Within the abandoned warehouse, "Julio's" lifeless body tipped backward and fell heavily.
But his blood did not drench the surrounding earth; instead, it shot up against the laws of physics like a fountain.
It wasn't even a liquid, but rather rubies flying into the sky, solidifying into red pearls.
Making sounds of yearning like a hastily feeding puppy or kitten, the Hook Demon's face cleared of anger and ferocity, showing nothing but the purest greed and obsession.
The sparkling beads of blood flew towards it, landing on its body.
The Hook Demon greedily consumed.
The frostbite on its body receded at a visible rate, its stature gradually swelling. From the size of a hunting dog, it grew to the size of a human teenager and then to that of an adult.
The wet redness on its body, like blood, slowly faded, revealing a white and smooth skin, marred only by crimson lines like suture marks. Even its four arms grew some muscle, while the four rusty iron hooks, covered in blood, had vanished from sight.