Chapter 291: Chapter 255: Finally, I Grasped This Splendid Wealth in My Hands
"Hurry, Byron, we can’t wait any longer."
Startled by the familiar voice that had almost claimed his life, Andrew shivered so violently he nearly shook his entire skeleton apart.
Without needing any reminder, Byron’s gaze immediately locked onto the black Faustian Pact floating beside Velazquez.
After defeating the Governor of Havana, the entry [Why did you engrave your name on my pipe] had already taken effect.
In theory, he had replaced the man and gained ownership of the other half of the Faustian Pact.
The bloody signature of Velazquez at the bottom was reluctantly being replaced, bit by bit, by the golden "Byron Tudor."
Even the power of Order was expanding from this name as a center, dissipating much of the evil and twisted aura above it.
Order and chaos, Divinity and Beastliness, were showing signs of returning to balance.
"Come here."
Byron raised his hand and made a grasping motion toward the Faustian Pact.
At his will, the invisible wind immediately formed an Elemental Hand of Wind, ready to snatch the parchment to him.
His other hand slowly drew "White Frost" from his waist, a rather dazzling electric light intertwining around it. He prepared to fulfill Flint’s last wish: while retrieving the Faustian Pact, to end the ferocious Contract Devil—which had been formed from Flint’s fall—with a single strike.
The lightning power of a Stormforged Weapon was especially potent against all manner of evil spirits and Undead Creatures. Even if the adversary had a Fourth Order foundation, it would certainly suffer a severe blow.
However, even if these fiendish beings lacked intelligence, they still retained the instinct to seek advantage and avoid harm.
The Contract Devil seemed to sense the danger and crawled out from between the lines of the black parchment.
It attempted to escape, only to find a substantial portion of the pact was no longer under its control.
Without hesitation, it grabbed a corner of the parchment and tore it fiercely.
RRRRIP—!
This two-thirds portion of the pact was torn in two. The half that was a paler shade of black flew into Byron’s hands, combining to form a complete two-thirds.
The remaining one-third, now so black it shimmered with iridescent colors, fled with the escaping Contract Devil, dashing like lightning into a nearby World Rift.
It plunged into the tides of the Sea of Origin Matter and vanished in an instant.
Ultimately, a portion of the right to use the Faustian Pact always belonged to the Devil.
If Byron’s nature was like the free and light wind, then the Contract Devil was akin to a foul and stinking mire.
The compatibility between the two, one couldn’t say they were completely unrelated, but they were certainly irreconcilably opposed.
Even if Byron did not want to kill it, it could never serve such a difficult-to-corrupt master.
The black and white one-third portions of parchment in Byron’s hands reassembled into a complete yin-yang pact.
He felt as if a large, parasitic tumor had been excised from his body, leaving him incredibly relieved.
His Supernatural Aura flowed, light and vibrant. When Byron held the pact, it even conveyed a distinct sense of pleasure to him.
He instinctively realized that the Contract Devil taking the initiative to sever ties and absconding with the ’Simplified Wishing Machine’ was not necessarily a bad thing.
Without this fellow, the rate at which I get contaminated has at least halved. After I secure a more stable Anchor in the future, I’ll go back and retrieve the complete version.
At the same time, the Sailing Logbook finally finished reading the detailed information of this pact.
[First-Class Holy Relic: Faustian Pact]
"The epic poem ’Faust’ symbolizes the spirit of the Renaissance and the era of intellectual liberation. It was one of the driving forces that ended the Dark Millennium, has witnessed significant turning points in human cultural history, and possesses immense influence.
Half belongs to the Creator, half to the Devil. Only a free soul can become the master of both.
Ability One: Buy Low, Sell High.
The pact is essentially a trading platform with coercive power, comparable to a powerful Gold Sequence Transcendent.
It can use the greed in people’s hearts as a beacon to project its presence into anyone’s inner world.
The pact’s master can sign a variety of service contracts with all sorts of people, buying low and selling high, to make a profit.
The goods can be tangible or intangible, including but not limited to: weapons and equipment, transcendent abilities, beauty, health, love, fortune, time (lifespan)...
And the six maids can do anything for you, including but not limited to: ensuring contract execution, harvesting souls, cleaning house...
Note: The closer a commodity’s concept is to the divine realm, the higher the transaction cost—for both the trading partner and the pact’s master.
Be careful, perhaps the next product on the shelf will be you!"
Byron, of course, knew the consequences of excessive greed.
But even with just the basic ability of this pact, he was confident he could start up "Pawnshop No. 8."
The Holy Grail of Blood devours flesh and blood, the Mad Hunt Legion conscripts souls, the Wings of Death pillages treasures, and the Pledging Pacts seize abilities...
Any enemy falling into his hands would be thoroughly taken care of.
And with this treasure in hand, the value of the Governor of Havana, Velazquez, who had already turned over all his Pledging Pacts, plummeted instantly.
"Ability Two: Covenant with Gods and Men.
The epic poem ’Faust,’ as a successful example of humanity’s struggle to gain power from gods/the Church, grants the power to make pacts with higher beings.
The pact’s master can use their own being as a stake to make a pact with certain supra-standard existences, with the world itself acting as a medium to automatically generate a fair contract.
Just like the original Faust, with the Creator at one end of the pact and the Devil at the other, the upper limit for Covenants with Gods and Men is two.
Currently, one Covenant with Gods and Men is active. The previous master, Flint, made a pact with Mammon, the Worm of Greed:
Silvergold Island must follow the objective laws of the Periodical Cicada, only appearing in the Material World during prime number years.
When a free-souled Lamplighter is stationed on the island, only Low Sequence cicada affiliated are allowed to pass through Second Grade rifts; Middle Sequence beings are prohibited from entering the Material World.
Furthermore, the cicada affiliated activity must not extend beyond the confines of Silvergold Island.
In exchange, Flint was required to use his fame to attract other humans to the island, abide by a series of rules such as ’Equal Exchange’ and ’weight limits,’ and provide Mammon with sustenance.
If either party violates the pact, they will face repercussions at the level of fundamental rules.
When the Lamplighter changes, the prime number year count resets, starting anew from 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17...
Sealed by blood, a drop of the new Lamplighter’s blood on the pact signifies the new agreement taking effect."
Byron glanced at his deceased uncle beside him.
According to this pact, when Byron arrived eleven years ago, Flint’s state must have already begun to deviate significantly, no longer fully meeting the conditions of a Lamplighter, thus creating loopholes in the pact.
Even though he had decisively started to flee at the sound of the cicadas, he ultimately couldn’t escape death.
CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP...
At this moment, the cicada calls from the other side grew increasingly urgent.
The adult Cicada-folk living on the mirror island across the World Rift were entirely flesh-colored cicadas, possessing six human-like hands, a human face, and needle-like mouthparts.
Transcendent individuals wore golden masks and had jewel-like red eyes, among other adornments of gold, silver, and precious stones.
The bodies of Middle Sequence individuals were directly inlaid with varying numbers of high-quality Philosopher’s Stones, gleaming brilliantly and dazzlingly resplendent.
These Cicada-folk were not entirely irrational monstrosities but rather alien life forms with humanoid intelligence, even possessing their own social structures.
Finally, the first Low Sequence Cicada-folk flew out from the World Rift, sprawling in the Blood Lake and greedily sucking up the fluid.
Then came a second, a third... until they formed an innumerable, dark, oppressive cloud.
Byron, however, did not rush to fulfill his duties as the Lamplighter.
Instead, he snapped his fingers.
CLICK!
As the bright flare of the tinderbox erupted, six beautiful maids in black and white maid attire materialized from within.
To others, they looked unchanged.
But in Byron’s eyes, these six maids now sported devilish horns and each had one bat wing and one angel wing. Their faces had become even more ethereally beautiful, their figures even more stunningly voluptuous. Half angel, half Devil—that was their true form.
Byron addressed his request to Sherry, the head maid, who wore a gold nameplate on her chest, "Do you have a way to hide our people first, so those Cicada-folk won’t discover them?"
The black-haired maid bowed respectfully, "My respected master, this is quite simple."
She casually took out the silver tinderbox, and a bright white flame expanded into a halo of light, enveloping all of Byron’s subordinates. They were now protected by the pact’s power.
The swarms of Cicada-folk flooding from the World Rift immediately ignored them. Some began to gradually drain the Blood Lake, while others rushed out of the third level, heading towards other parts of the labyrinth.
Byron, the Lamplighter, after ensuring his people were safe, allowed these adult cicadas to swarm into Silvergold Island.
According to the Covenant with Gods and Men, the rules inherently did not apply to those Low Sequence Cicada-folk, and Byron had no intention of resisting such a massive swarm single-handedly.
He had another objective.
When the cicadas began to chirp, most treasure hunters on the island were still fighting bloody battles.
After all, there was still at least a day before the third rainbow light vanished, and ten days before Silvergold Island would sink again.
They were utterly unaware that disaster had struck so suddenly.
"What is that thing? Run!"
"Ah, help—!"
"..."
Some treasure hunters on the island were instantly drained into desiccated husks and shattered into dust. Others, who in their haste to flee did not forget their treasures, thereby violating the rules, instantly turned to ash, their flesh and blood merging into the Blood Lake.
Byron’s eyes, however, remained fixed on what lay beyond the World Rift.
Thousands of people have come to this island this time; their ’nests’ are already prepared. If I don’t cast a line now, how can I justify these tempting baits? And what about us anglers? I refuse to believe that you Middle Sequence Cicada-folk resisted last time. Now, with even more offerings, you can still hold back? An angler never goes home empty-handed!
Clearly, his targets were not the Low Sequence Cicada-folk, but the Middle Sequence individuals—veritable ’living Philosopher’s Stone mines.’
No sooner had his voice fallen than a Middle Sequence Cicada-folk, unable to resist, flew out from the World Rift.
With the new Lamplighter currently absent, they were theoretically unrestrained and could freely enter and exit the World Rift.
CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP.
Upon realizing it was unaffected, it immediately called to its companions, preparing to enter the labyrinth and join this once-in-a-decade gluttonous feast.
One, two, three...
Wings beating, they took flight like arrows, surging into the passage one after another.
Watching these Cicada-folk, especially the Philosopher’s Stones inlaid on their bodies, Byron’s eyes grew increasingly bright.
Just a little longer, a little longer. We mustn’t drain the pond to catch the fish, nor can we let them have a chance to run back.
Although he himself couldn’t synthesize Philosopher’s Stones without repercussions in a short time.
But these Cicada-folk could!
This wasn’t just about a one-time deal.
If he could make good use of this island, releasing batches of treasure maps every few years and giving them to formidable enemies...
Not only could he ensnare and kill them in one fell swoop, but he could also obtain an endless supply of Philosopher’s Stones via the Cicada-folk!
Harvesting these ’leeks’ crop after crop, an inexhaustible supply for generations to come.
Others catch a cicada and think they’ve caught the whole summer. But when I, your humble servant, catch a cicada, it’s like catching... a sky-high fortune!