Chapter 24: The Labyrinth of Agmirlas

Author: Charlot Mecklenburg

A fragment of consciousness suddenly gave birth to a thought: “Who am I?”

Immediately, countless fragments of consciousness were drawn together, coalescing into a second thought: “I am Charlot Mecklenburg!”

Then a third thought emerged naturally: “No, I am Huang Haisheng.”

As these three thoughts surfaced one after another, more fragments of consciousness gathered. The memories of two individuals intertwined and mixed, but soon, a dominant consciousness suppressed all the chaotic thoughts: “I am Huang Haisheng, who has transmigrated to this world, taking the place of someone named Charlot Mecklenburg.”

In an instant, the memories of the two individuals became distinct. The consciousness that represented Huang Haisheng unhesitatingly devoured the other set of memories.

Charlot opened his eyes slightly, feeling an unbearable headache and an overwhelming discomfort, as if he had just endured a harsh punishment.

Yet at this very moment, his mind was extraordinarily clear. Whether it was the memories belonging to Huang Haisheng or those of Charlot Mecklenburg, every detail was vividly laid out before him. Even the tiniest moments were crystal clear, and Huang Haisheng’s fluency in both Chinese and English, as well as Charlot Mecklenburg’s mastery of seven Old Continent languages, now felt as fresh and familiar as if he had just studied them.

He recalled that due to practicing Blood Glory, he had triggered the descent of an evil god once summoned by Charlot Mecklenburg. But this wasn’t the worst of it—this descent also manifested the lingering consciousness of the foreign god of chaos, Agmirlas, which had accidentally tainted him earlier. The clash between the two gods shattered his consciousness into fragments.

Charlot didn’t even know how he managed to gather his awareness and recover, but there was no time to dwell on this mystery. His physical state was in complete shambles.

Charlot pressed his hand to the ground and struggled to stand up. Trembling, he poured himself a glass of water and forced it down. The clarity in his mind improved slightly.

“That was terrifying!”

“The evil gods of this world… are they really that fearsome?”

“After all this time, how could that diary still summon an evil god?”

“All I did was barely touch that ancient scroll, and its lingering consciousness managed to corrupt me!”

“If ordinary people encountered an evil god, wouldn’t they have no chance of survival?”

“If it weren’t for their clash…”

“I’d definitely be dead.”

Charlot’s barely-controlled body collapsed onto the sofa, and suddenly, he felt something was amiss.

A few minutes later, he exclaimed in shock, “What’s going on?”

The Eye of Insight rune on his forehead had become countless times more intricate, faintly forming the shape of an eye. Its range of insight had expanded from a radius of fifteen steps to over a hundred steps, encompassing the entirety of 58 Elysée Avenue. From bird’s-eye views to close-ups, from east to west, from north to south, he could adjust the perspective at will.

About half an hour later, Charlot came to accept a concept well-known to all natives of the Old Continent:
Summoning an evil god—danger and opportunity coexist.

To gaze directly at an evil god results in a sudden surge in spirituality!

However, unregulated and excessive growth in spirituality often leads to madness, death, or annihilation!

But if one could resist such effects, the increase in spirituality was a gift from the evil god.

This was an exceedingly dangerous and ironic reward.

By gazing at not one but two evil gods and surviving, Charlot’s spirituality had increased to an unparalleled degree. His Eye of Insight ability had also been enhanced more than tenfold.

Typically, it would take decades of practicing Blood Glory, alongside profound mastery of the Blood Feast Meditation Technique, to elevate the Eye of Insight to a level resembling an actual eye.

It was only after a long while that Charlot’s headache subsided to a bearable level, and he recalled that this wasn’t the first time he had gazed upon an evil god…

This explained why, since his return from Cynes, his Blood Glory had been improving daily.

Glancing at the diary on the floor, Charlot felt his heart clench.

This time, he didn’t hesitate. After all, the evil god had already descended.

Since it was already here…

What was there to fear?

Charlot picked up the notebook. As his fingers brushed its surface, a line of text appeared on the pitch-black cover:
The Labyrinth of Agmirlas
Author: Charlot Mecklenburg

He was deeply astonished, unable to understand how the diary had transformed into The Labyrinth of Agmirlas, or how he had become its author.

Opening to the first page, the original diary entries were gone. The pages were now blank, except for a detailed illustration of a labyrinth.

As his fingers touched the page, a surge of consciousness rose:

“Charlot Mecklenburg summoned the vampiric progenitor, Karnstein, to vanquish a wisp of evil intent from the Labyrinth God of Aggras Sea. That intent was absorbed into the diary, transforming it into a book titled The Labyrinth of Agmirlas. The book contains fifteen pages, each depicting a labyrinth. If the author fails to master all fifteen labyrinths within the allotted time and draw a sixteenth labyrinth to prove themselves, they will lose the title of author and have their soul devoured by The Labyrinth of Agmirlas. Countdown: 256 days, 21 hours, and 3 minutes.”

“Damn it!”

“This isn’t over yet?”

“How am I supposed to master these fifteen labyrinths!?”

He pondered for a long time but still had no clue. Frustrated, he threw the diary onto the desk. Despair welled up in him as he noticed blood-red writing on the floor that seemed to be inscribed with fresh blood. Unable to resist, he tried to rub it out with his foot, but it wouldn’t budge. The blood-red text seemed seared into the floorboards.

Charlot decided he’d get a new carpet to cover the writing tomorrow. It wouldn’t do for any guests to see it.

What was he supposed to say to them? “Oh, that’s just something an evil god left behind?”

Suddenly, Charlot realized he was hungry.

He knew this was due to the sudden surge in spirituality, which had drastically drained his body’s energy reserves. Heading to the kitchen, he grabbed a croissant. Even after eating it, he still felt hungry, so he grabbed another. Before he realized it, he had eaten all the croissants he’d bought that day.

After finishing the last croissant, Charlot drank some water and felt slightly better. Noticing the water tank in his room was empty, he thought to himself, “I should find time to return to the university and consult the professors about mastering the Labyrinth of Agmirlas.”

“The university professors are protected by the goddess. Surely, they wouldn’t fear these evil gods.”

Sheffield University worshiped the Lady of the Black Moon. One of the main reasons Charlot Mecklenburg had chosen to attend this university was because… this was the Black Moon Epoch!

It was the time when the goddess’s power was at its zenith!

Charlot went to the courtyard, drew some water from the well, washed his face with the cold water, and refilled the tank. Returning to his room, he placed the water tank down and began organizing the memories that had become vividly clear.

He still couldn’t recall the period before Huang Haisheng’s death, but he now “remembered” how Charlot Mecklenburg had courted disaster by summoning the evil gods.

The Blood Feast Meditation Technique created by Protagoras required meditating on thirty-seven vampiric progenitors, cutting them apart one by one, and metaphorically consuming them as a feast.

The complexity of the meditation steps and its grisly nature made it the most ferocious among all human secret arts!

At least nine of these vampiric progenitors had ascended to become evil gods in ancient times, which was why the Blood Feast Meditation Technique generally advised avoiding these nine. Meditating on them was akin to… summoning an evil god.

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