The head of the church stepped forward and rang the bell at the old castle gate.
"Creak—"
A servant, with the door chained from the inside, opened it slightly and cautiously peered out at the visitor.
"Mr. Robert Knepp?"
"Yes. Good morning, I am Robert Knepp."
Robert, the head of the church, removed his hood, revealing his half-white hair.
"I'm from the Missionary Alliance. I had an appointment with Mr. Marbury Ella."
The Black woman servant gave Robert a quick once-over, nodded, and opened the door.
"The master is waiting for you in the study, Mr. Robert."
"Thank you."
Robert nodded in gratitude.
Disguised as a priest, Loki slipped into the castle with the group.
Loki, along with the other church members, was led to the living room by the servant to wait.
The servant personally guided Robert to the study.
Blending in with the crowd, Loki quietly slipped out when no one was watching and stealthily followed behind them.
With another "creak", the door to the study opened, and dim light spilled out from within.
Robert followed the servant inside.
The room was gloomy; even in broad daylight, the windows were covered with heavy curtains.
The flickering candles inside didn't brighten the space but instead gave it a strangely eerie feeling.
Robert Knepp was the leader of the Georgetown Missionary Alliance.
This organization consisted of mages obsessed with ancient arcane rituals.
He himself held a doctorate in mysticism and was highly skilled in summoning and forbidden spells.
This time, he had come at the castle owner's request—to perform a summoning ritual.
As he observed the room, the servant turned the wheelchair behind the desk around.
Robert could now clearly see the owner's face.
Half of the man's face was burnt, revealing a grotesque and scarred visage.
"Mr. Robert, I'm glad you could make it on time."
The old man, named Marbury Ella, with half of his face destroyed by fire, spoke with a hoarse voice.
"This ritual would be difficult without your help. You must be tired from the journey—please, have a seat."
Robert gave a slight nod and thanked him. "Thank you, Mr. Ella."
Marbury pushed his wheelchair closer. "I heard, Mr. Robert, that you also recently lost a loved one. It seems we share the same sorrow."
Robert's expression turned complicated. "Yes… I lost my wife. She passed away from illness."
"Death lingers beneath the eaves like a bird, stirring desires until it finally steals away our lives."
Marbury gently touched the burns on his face. "When I lost my wife and daughter, this place became the worst kind of hell for me. Every corner of this house reminds me of them."
"Some people, when faced with death, feel the strongest urge to flee the place where their loved ones passed… But acting on that impulse can often make things worse—it prevents them from accepting reality."
Pushing the wheels of his chair, Marbury moved to the bookcase and looked up at the shelves lined with books.
"The books say the best way is to stay in that same place—to fight through the grief until, eventually, the pain becomes just memory."
He turned to Robert. "If I could, I would remain here forever and let the grief turn to memories. But I want more than that. That fire took my wife and daughter from me. I'm willing to pay any price to bring them back."
He clapped his hands, and the servant rolled over a safe from the corner of the room.
Marbury opened the safe and took out a thick ancient tome, handing it to Robert.
"This is the Book of Magdalene. It used to belong to a private collector, but I've acquired it now. I believe, Mr. Robert, that you can help me complete the ritual—summon the Angel of Death and bring my family back. Am I right?"
Robert looked at the Book of Magdalene, then nodded slowly, though hesitantly.
"If the rituals recorded in this book are accurate, we should be able to summon him—though the risks are significant."
Marbury seemed pleased with the answer.
"I'll compensate you handsomely for the risk. So then, Mr. Robert, when shall we begin?"
"We just need to prepare. We can start tonight."
Outside the room, Loki, who had been eavesdropping, narrowed his eyes when he heard they intended to summon the Angel of Death using the Book of Magdalene.
Perfect. A chance to stir up some trouble.
That Night
The priests of the Missionary Alliance, having completed their preparations, gathered in the grand hall, each holding a candle.
The floor was covered in intricate magic circles, and the air was heavy with arcane energy.
Robert stood at the center of the ritual circle. His gaze swept toward the Book of Magdalene resting on a shelf, his expression solemn.
With a deep, steady breath, he turned to face the assembled followers.
"Everyone, tonight we attempt something no one has ever done before: to summon and imprison the Angel of Death. It's dangerous, yes, but this is how we unlock the secrets of ancient arcane arts. Our deeds tonight will be remembered."
The followers listened in silence as their leader spoke.
Loki, still cloaked and hidden among them, kept his eyes fixed on the book in Robert's hands.
In the back of the hall, Marbury, seated in his wheelchair, was pushed forward by his servant. His expression was grave as he stared intently at Robert.
"Alright, let's officially begin."
Robert glanced at his watch and opened the Book of Magdalene, preparing to summon Death.
"In this darkness, I offer you a coin made of stone."
As he recited the incantation, Robert held out a stone in his left hand.
"In this darkness, I offer you blood that flows from my veins."
At this point, he pulled out a dagger and, gritting his teeth, slashed his arm, cutting into a vein.
Blood immediately gushed out, dripping onto the magic circle etched on the floor.
As Robert chanted the incantation, the congregation below him echoed in Latin, lending him strength.
Loki, blending in, recited the Latin chants along with them.
Given his innate talents, Latin had long since become second nature to him. He could now even perform exorcisms fluently in Latin.
At first, Loki chanted absentmindedly, simply sensing the shifts in the magical elements in the air—but gradually, his expression turned from disinterest to shock.
He'd thought this bunch was just foolishly playing with fire.
He had originally joined in for fun, amused by their antics, but now… something felt seriously off.
Could they actually summon Death?
Loki began to feel a bit uneasy.
On the stage, Robert's summoning continued."I also offer you a feather plucked from an angel's wing, to help you ascend to the heavens."
He took a feather from an assistant and threw it to the floor.
The feather floated gently, then slowly began to rise into the air.
"Boom!"
Suddenly, the feather was engulfed in flames and incinerated.
The feather was supposed to ascend—not burn up. Panic flickered across Robert's face.
He swallowed hard and quickly resumed chanting.
"In this darkness, I summon you with poison; in this darkness, I summon you with pain; in this darkness, I open the path, I open the door, and I call you forth..."
As his incantation rushed out, the magic circle on the ground lit up like it had been set aflame, glowing from the edges toward the center. Suddenly, a violent wind erupted out of nowhere, filling the entire hall!
The gusts were so strong the witches and warlocks couldn't open their eyes. It felt like invisible hands were closing around their throats.
Some of the less resilient cultists were blown off their feet, screaming as they were thrown aside.
"In the name of the Old Master, I summon you—Nata, Ella, Kneipp, I summon you!"
Clutching the altar for support and braving the storm and unseen pressure, Robert forced himself to continue shouting the chant.
One by one, the other cultists collapsed, unable to rise again—let alone continue chanting.
Only Loki remained standing, reciting the incantation amidst the howling wind and overwhelming pressure.
Thanks to his Frost Giant physique, Loki could withstand the force without much difficulty.
Robert, unaware of Loki's true identity, looked on in shock at the lone figure still on his feet.
How did I not know someone this powerful was on our team?!
Loki repeated the same chant the others had used, watching Robert struggle to hold on.
He began to wonder whether this might be the perfect moment to snatch the Book of Magdalene in the chaos.
Then Robert suddenly shouted at him, "Chant the second verse!"
Loki froze.
Second verse?
He had no idea what that was.
After a moment of hesitation, he made a split-second decision—he'd make something up.
As Loki began to chant his own improvised "magic verse," the entire magic circle burst into fiery visual effects.
A powerful radiance shimmered in the air.
The wind howled more fiercely than ever, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
Mabry's wheelchair had toppled over, and he was now clinging to one of the hall's pillars to avoid being blown away.
Just as Robert was on the verge of collapse, a blinding flash lit up the air—followed by a burst of flame.
Thud!A figure appeared out of thin air, landing at the center of the magic circle in the hall.
Instantly, the roaring wind ceased. The air fell still.
Everyone lay on the ground, disoriented and stunned, taking several moments before they turned their eyes to the figure in the circle.
The figure wore a black robe, a mask resembling a gas mask, and held a black bag in one hand. A brilliant red gemstone hung from their waist.
What is that?
Staring at the summoned figure, Loki's eyes widened in disbelief.
That… doesn't look like Death?!