章 14: Chapter 13.2 : The Ritual
The ritual chamber, now fully prepared, was an imposing sight. In the center of the room lay the seven-pointed star, each point carefully adorned with the rare and potent ingredients Alistor and Henry had painstakingly gathered. Surrounding the star were seven ancient pillars, each one inscribed with intricate runes and symbols of power. Hanging from these pillars were old goblin silver chains, designed to hold the ritual's participant in place.
Hector stood at the center of the ritual circle, his heart pounding in his chest. He had just turned seven, and now, he was about to undergo the Ritual of Recovery and Regeneration. His family stood around him, their faces a mix of pride and apprehension. They knew the pain he was about to endure, and the changes that would be wrought upon his body.
Alistor approached him, his expression grave but resolute. "Are you ready, Hector?" he asked, his voice echoing in the chamber.
Hector nodded, swallowing his fear. "Yes, Grandfather. I'm ready."
Henry and Diana moved forward, their hands steady as they attached the silver chains to Hector's wrists, ankles, and torso. The chains were cold against his skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the torches that lit the chamber. Each chain was enchanted to hold him down, to keep him in place as the ritual did its work.
"Remember, Hector," Diana said softly, her eyes filled with love and concern. "We're here with you. You're not alone."
Alistor took a step back, raising his hands as he began to chant the ancient words that would activate the ritual. "Magia, vocatus oboedientiam mihi concede; tribue mihi potentiam audire et recuperare, regenerare et redintegrare, et magicis ad nutum uti."
As the final words left his lips, the runes on the pillars began to glow with a brilliant light. The chains tightened, holding Hector firmly in place as the ritual began. The ingredients at each point of the star shimmered and dissolved into streams of magical energy, converging on Hector's body.
The pain hit him like a tidal wave. It was as if his entire body was being torn apart and rebuilt from the inside. Every cell, every fiber of his being was on fire, burning with an intensity that was almost unbearable. Hector clenched his teeth, a guttural scream escaping his lips as the magic surged through him.
The first gate within him began to open, a process that was both excruciating and transformative. He could feel his body changing, adapting to the influx of magic. His cells began to regenerate at an accelerated rate, healing even as they were broken down. The magic flowed through him, enhancing his strength, his resilience, his very essence.
The ritual's initial hours were a brutal testament to the power and pain of transformation. Hector's muscles convulsed, tearing and mending repeatedly. Each tear was a searing agony, each mend a brief respite before the cycle began anew. His bones felt like they were being crushed to powder, only to be reformed stronger and denser than before.
Hector's vision blurred, not from tears, but from the sheer intensity of the magical energy coursing through him. His body felt like it was being submerged in molten lava, every nerve ending alight with unbearable heat. The sensation of his skin stretching and contracting was almost too much to bear, as though it was struggling to contain the growing power within.
For the first three days, Hector was caught in a relentless cycle of pain and regeneration. His body was a battlefield, the magic waging war against his physical limits. He could feel his muscles tearing and mending, his bones breaking and reforging. The agony was beyond anything he had ever imagined, but he held on, driven by the knowledge that this was the path to becoming a true Marshall.
On the fourth day, the pain began to change. It didn't lessen, but it transformed into a deeper, more profound ache. His body was now adapting to the changes, the magic becoming a part of him. He could feel it in every movement, every breath. It was as if his entire being was now suffused with magic, every action passively enhanced by its power.
The sensation of his cells regenerating was unlike anything he had ever felt. It was a deep, internal tickle that bordered on discomfort but was oddly satisfying. His wounds closed almost instantaneously, his energy levels remained high even as his body underwent massive transformations.
By the fifth day, his body was learning to channel magic passively. His skin glowed faintly with the residual energy of the ritual, a visible manifestation of the power now coursing through his veins. The chains that held him rattled with the force of his convulsions, but they held firm, ensuring he remained within the protective circle of the ritual.
As the days wore on, Hector's family watched with a mix of awe and concern. They had all undergone this ritual, but never for so long. Alistor had lasted five days, Henry four. But Hector was still enduring, still transforming.
On the sixth day, the worry in his family's eyes grew. Diana's hands trembled as she prepared the Aegis Elixir, her heart aching for her son. "How much longer can he endure this?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
"He's strong," Alistor said, though his own eyes betrayed his concern. "Stronger than any of us. But this is unprecedented."
Henry stood by his side, his jaw clenched. "We must trust in him. He'll come through this."
As the seventh day dawned, Hector's body was a vessel of raw power. The pain had lessened, replaced by a profound sense of strength and capability. He could feel the magic coursing through him, his first gate fully open and functioning. His body now passively regenerated, healed, and enhanced by the magic that flowed through it.
His senses were heightened to an almost painful degree. He could hear the faintest whisper of wind against the stone walls of the chamber, feel the minuscule shifts in the air as his family moved around him. His sense of smell was so acute that he could distinguish each ingredient's lingering essence in the air.
The final moments of the ritual were a blur of light and energy. The chains that held him glowed with a fierce intensity, the runes on the pillars shining brightly as they completed their work. Hector felt a final surge of power, a rush of magic that solidified the changes within him.
With a shattering burst of light, the ritual came to an end. The chains released him, and Hector collapsed to the floor, his body trembling with exhaustion. His family rushed forward, their faces etched with relief and pride.
"You did it, Hector," Alistor said, his voice filled with awe. "You've endured longer than any Marshall before you."
Diana knelt by his side, her hands gentle as she checked him for any lingering injuries. "How do you feel, my son?"
Hector looked up at her, his eyes glowing with a newfound strength. "I feel... powerful," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "I feel... alive."
Henry helped him to his feet, a proud smile on his face. "You've taken your first step into our legacy, Hector. This is just the beginning."
Hector nodded, feeling the truth of his father's words. He had endured the pain, the transformation, and emerged stronger for it. The magic now flowed through him, a constant presence that enhanced every aspect of his being.
As he stood there, surrounded by his family, Hector knew that he was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead. He was a Marshall, and he was destined for greatness. The ritual had been a trial by fire, but it had forged him into something more, something powerful and unyielding.
The Ritual of Recovery and Regeneration had opened the first gate, but there were six more to go. Each one would bring new challenges, new transformations. But Hector was ready. He had faced the pain and emerged victorious. And with his family by his side, he knew that he could face anything the world threw at him.
週次パワーステータス
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