【Summoning of the Hounds of Tindalos】
This was the final gift left behind by the Lord of Tindalos after stuffing his mind with a barrage of restricted-rated visions.
Summoning the Hounds of Tindalos meant that if any hounds were within range and sensed the call, they would leap into the mortal world from an angle no greater than one hundred and twenty degrees around the summoner.
It seemed like a grand and formidable arcana capable of summoning such terrifying creatures—beings that even evil gods were quite wary of, lethal to anyone they bit.
However, Lynch was no longer who he used to be. His understanding of occult knowledge was deepening, and he had studied arcana in great depth.
Thus, he knew this arcana was a massive trap.
Summoning arts in this world truly only handled the summoning part; they offered neither control nor repatriation. That meant whatever was summoned could do whatever it pleased. History was rife with precedents where the first thing a heteromorph did upon being summoned into the mortal world was kill its summoner. Therefore, unless one intended a suicidal attack, summoning a heteromorph required ensuring one had the means to protect oneself first, which would then grant a chance to negotiate with it.
So here came the problem: the hounds were one of the extremely rare types of heteromorphs for which no method of negotiation had ever been found. The moment they emerged, they did nothing except endlessly pursue and bite the summoner. Anyone using this arcana had no excuse other than being tired of living. Consequently, this was the single most useless arcana—bar none.
Fortunately, besides this arcana, Mulsith-ha's gift included a mark.
【Mark of Tindalos: A favor from Tindalos. The bearer of this mark is regarded as kin by the Hounds of Tindalos, will never be marked by the hounds, and will not be attacked by them unless attacking them first.】
If a time-ability wielder obtained this mark, it would undoubtedly be the most valuable gift imaginable, breaking their greatest limitation once and for all. The issue was that Lynch knew nothing about time abilities at all; having this mark on him was an absolute waste.
Can I transfer it to someone else?
Of course, that thought was just self-amusement. In reality, Lynch didn't actually consider these two abilities useless.
Viewed separately, they indeed carried little significance, but combining the two was a different story. If timed properly, it might yield miraculous results.
Well, he would have to conduct a thorough and deep study later, but for now...
Now wasn't the time, because Lynch had already been kicked out of the Corner of Time, returning to the three-dimensional network of the River of Time.
So in terms of how it manifested, I was swallowed by Mulsith-ha, and then... Fuck, that's so damn disgusting.
Patting down his spirit body's clothes in disgust, Lynch looked around. The River of Time remained unchanging through eternity, making it impossible to tell whether he was still in his original location.
“You should say the original point in time, as location doesn't exist in the River of Time. In fact, we are no longer at the previous point in time. The span is quite large. Just now, we were at the end of the Fourth Age, but now we are at the beginning of the Third Age. You can tell from the sights below; there are very few individual time streams. Only the end and beginning of an age present such a phenomenon.”
The Yithian's voice resonated once more:
“It seems your contact with Mulsith-ha has concluded. Did it offer any token?”
“Hmm? You weren't with me?” Lynch froze for a moment. “I remember you were still there when we were inside the Corner of Time.”
“Time surrounding Mulsith-ha is chaotic, lacking continuity between moments. The instant you made contact with it, my brainwaves fell into a turbulent current, and I only just managed to relocate you using a communicator from the future.”
My neighbor wouldn't get flung away. Lynch felt strangely proud. “It inexplicably crammed a whole pile of restricted-rated films into my head, slammed into me head-on, dumped me here, and committed a hit-and-run.”
“...” The Yithian fell silent for a moment before letting out a helpless sigh. “I understand. It seems it was quite satisfied with this gift. In that case, this place should be near your Gate of the Silver Key; Mulsith-ha dropped you off here in passing. Very good. Our cooperation this time has been quite successful. Next comes completing the remaining portion—sending you through the Gate of the Silver Key.”
“Just sending me in?” Although Lynch had already obtained the Mark of Tindalos, he had no intention of exposing it, preferring to quietly make a fortune. Thus, he played the part fully and asked, “Then what do I do when I want to come back?”
“There is no need to worry about that. The exit of the Gate of the Silver Key opens to any given moment.”
“...”
The Yithian sighed again. “Which means you can return directly to the 'present' without passing through the River of Time. Furthermore, it is impossible for me to accompany you into the Gate of the Silver Key. Without the Silver Key, my brainwaves cannot enter. Therefore, our cooperation will end the moment you step through the Gate of the Silver Key.”
“Alright, so what should I do now? Still follow my gut?”
“Yes. The Silver Key will guide you to the Gate of the Silver Key. Just act on the most pressing thought in your heart.”
Lynch looked around. The wide riverbed of the River of Time remained as it had always been, with packs of hounds surfacing from the distance from time to time, whistling past as they chased time dust drifting through the air. Whether it was due to the Mark of Tindalos, looking at them now brought not the former wariness and fear, but rather a strange sense of familiarity. If the Yithian's brainwaves weren't accompanying him, he might have even felt tempted to go over and pet one.
Wait, what? The most pressing thought? Could a sudden urge to seek death actually count?
Is this a fucking joke? If I hadn't obtained the Mark of Tindalos, I wouldn't dare do such a thing even with the guidance of the Silver Key. Wouldn't the Silver Key's guidance be totally useless then?
No, if I hadn't gotten the Mark of Tindalos, I wouldn't have had this thought in the first place. Naturally, the Silver Key wouldn't give this kind of guidance either and would switch to another method, like tossing a shoe to point the way.
These stream-of-consciousness things are so fucking convoluted.
Realizing the key issue, Lynch finally gave up struggling and walked toward a pack of hounds that caught his eye.
The Yithian's brainwaves stirred as if it wanted to stop him, but in the end, it let out a deep sigh. “Must you really harbor such a dangerous thought?”
“It is all the choice of Steins—the Silver Gate.”
Lynch spoke with utmost seriousness while swiftly approaching the pack of hounds he had chosen.
Observed up close, these residents of the River of Time actually looked somewhat pretty. Bodies composed of striking blue mist, sturdy and sharp limbs with deadly claws, soft long tongues dripping mucus and lined with barbs, eyes cold and piercing like flashlights, and misty drool dripping from pointed mouths.
Alright, Lynch admitted they weren't pretty at all, but he remained thoroughly curious about these creatures. Especially their misty forms that could pass right through his body—did they actually have physical substance? Could they be touched?
With these thoughts in mind, Lynch reached out his hand.
However, as if sensing something, the hound suddenly shifted two steps to the side, dodging Lynch's touch.
Gasp, even dogs won't pay attention to me?
Lynch's eyelids twitched. He gave chase once more, extending his wicked hand toward the hound.
Yet just as he took the final step, coming within an inch of the hound, a brilliant light erupted from within his body, shining like a beacon in the dim River of Time.
Rate on N.U.
