The Summoner And Contractor System

The statue resembled a serpent that was exquisitely coiled, possessing an air of royalty and even that of a deity. There was a clashing significance between the auras of good and evil, creating a wicked flare of controversy for the eyes of observers.

"'Serpent's Rebirth,' huh? Let's see where this one will bring me!" Icrin mumbled under his breath as his hands reached out with closed eyes, before opening to another location.

It was a desert, accompanied by a monstrous sandstorm preventing the eye from looking off into the distance. Covering his mouth, nose, and eyes, Icrin managed to make out a shadow of a building of grandeur amidst the cloud of sand.

"A palace?" He questioned.

Why was there a palace in the middle of nowhere, or at least what felt like nowhere? Where were the people? Perhaps there was a king inside? Or perhaps, it was a kingdom long forgotten or abandoned?

Regardless, the sandstorm called for him to find shelter, and so he approached with quick steps. He soon found himself at an unprotected gate, a slight opening in between.

He squeezed through as he ventured into the courtyard, still exposed to the harsh desert environment. In his vision, he saw what seemed to be the entrance to the palace, and so he hustled with hastened steps, escaping from the harshness of the outside.

Entering inside was a magnificent violet colored carpet with red stitching on the ends, leading from the entrance, up an old stone staircase, and down a long hallway decorated with paintings that had long aged beyond visual representation.

The windows were crafted from colored glass, using various colors to create eloquent patterns befitting royalty and nobility.

And the hallway held various doors, each connecting to rooms that were so clean and organized, not even a speck of dust could be seen, 'There has to be someone here,' Icrin thought to himself.

Reaching the end of the hallway, a door adorning a golden and silver colored crest of that of a serpent revealed itself. Unlike the other doors that were placed on the left and right sides of the hall, this door went straight. In fact, even its handles were of gold, designed to look like that of a serpent.

Icrin reached his hand towards the handle as a suffocating aura descended upon him. It felt as if a snake were constricting itself around his hand, his arm slowly succ.u.mbing to the sensation as his veins pulsed, and like poison traveling into his bloodstream, his entire body felt numb.

The pulsing sensation once again rang within his mind as he listened to the insight of a serpent experiencing its rebirth, 'The serpent sheds its skin, while we shed our naive and narrow perception of reality. There are times when one must accept an illusion in order to destroy it, and the same goes for reality. Only by accepting a reality can you resolve yourself to go against it.'

"After what happened with Vultisori, I can say one thing for certain: this isn't an illusion entirely. At the least, there have been elements of both illusion and reality within. Whatever, that doesn't matter. Whether real or fake, life and death are to be treated the same." Icrin muttered before stretching his hand towards the door handle arduously.

The pressure continued to weigh on taxingly, yet Icrin's heart only beat stronger in hopes of succeeding. As he pushed on, he stirred the lightning in his body to dissipate the intruding aura, channeling it throughout his body and along his arm, ultimately grasping the handle and opening the door as his figure dripped with sweat.

What greeted him was an elegant stand, atop which lay a small black crown with a silver gem embedded within. And behind the stand was a royal throne of purple and red, alongside a golden frame. The arms of the chair were carved like thorny branches and coiled around the chair was a serpent, deeply purplish black in color with glittering silver eyes.

The serpent's ghastly voice followed hauntingly, "Is the concept of life and death really to be treated the same in an illusion? Death in an illusion may lead to your freedom in reality, no? Death isn't always to be considered an escape, sometimes it is an acceptance, don't you think?"

Icrin's spine stood straight as he shivered, a cold sweat coming forth, "I'm not sure who you are, but why should I have to rely on the idea of dying to break an illusion? To accept a reality and go against it... I might be able to use death in an illusion, but I can't rely on dying in reality, can I?"

"Accepting an illusion and killing an illusion. Though you are right, while death may be the way out of an illusion, it won't help you in reality. But in reality, can't you synthesize death?" Its ghastly voice questioned aggressively.

"Synthesize death? I don't understand what you're trying to tell me." Icrin rubbed his temple.

"Child, can't you think broadly? If you're going to justify an illusion as a reality, then why can't you falsify a reality as an illusion?!" The serpent continued, "Acceptance exists in various ways, one can perceive it as 'taking' rather than 'acknowledging' for example."

Its gaze pierced Icrin as it spat out venomously. "Take control of the illusions that bind you and synthesize, artificially create, bend them to your own will! If you can't take control of illusions, how will you manage to take control of your reality?"

"I think I understand now...." Icrin mumbled.

"Think? You think you understand now?! Dammit?! You better understand, I've already given you enough advice in consideration of Vultisori. Now, go outside and show me you understand! Only then can you accept the crown and seat yourself upon this throne." The serpent hissed.

"Alright! Alright! But what should I do to show you?" Icrin asked timidly, noting that the serpent seemed to know of Vultisori.

"Banish the sandstorm that plagues this palace. And while you're at it, summon the clouds and bring forth the rain like the true Rain King, the Sungo."

Icrin pouted in agreement before returning to the outside. As the serpent hissed, the sandstorm was still as strong as before. Thinking back to the serpent's words, he felt a wave of heat and dryness assault him.

"Accept that I'm in an illusion... Take it for myself. How am I supposed to take control of it? What am I supposed to even control? Is there some sort of core? A location in which the illusion is operated from? Considering that I entered this 'illusion' with the placement of my hand on the statue, then maybe the illusion starts from my hand?" Icrin spoke to himself.

"Hnng! Do something, do something! Hng! Come on already! Here, I'll gather lightning in my palm, so work, please!" Icrin cried out desperately.

Meditation—failed. Focusing all of his concentration on his palm—failed. Gathering lightning into his palm—failed.

"Alright. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on everything!" Icrin clapped his hands together, drawing the lightning through his body.

It was then, he noticed ever-so-slightly, the remnant of an aura within his body. It was the aura that, like a snake, had constricted itself around his arm before entering into his bloodstream.

"The aura I fought against earlier? Wait a second! To accept illusions and synthesize death... Was I supposed to accept this aura? To allow the poison into my body and take it for myself?" Icrin smiled, "Heh. Wait for my return, you devilish serpent!"

Icrin gathered the lightning in his body to stir the aura, only for it to flee hurriedly, exiting his body. It distanced itself, revealing itself to be an illusionary form of the serpent.

"Ah! Such a cute little guy! Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you." Icrin whispered softly, making cl.i.c.k.i.n.g sounds as if to call the aura towards him.

The illusionary serpent neared him, opening its mouth to reveal a pair of white fangs. Icrin couldn't help but yelp as he saw a purple liquid on the fangs, its poison.

"Haha... Well, I guess this is all or nothing, huh? Go on, bite me, little one!" Icrin yelled out childishly, while the serpent lunged forward, coiling around his arm once again, and lightly biting into his wrist.

Like a fast moving venom, the aura efficiently traveled throughout Icrin's body. Despite doing his best to maintain calm, he couldn't help but tremble nervously.

As the aura finished running l.a.p.s throughout Icrin's body, he was suddenly hit by an epiphany. It was as if he was the creator of this 'realm,' and the sandstorm around the palace was an extension of his own body.

Icrin reached his palm out, before closing it into a fist—and the sandstorm vanished! Taking control of an illusion and resisting an illusion... While in the same category, they were entirely different in scale.

"Become the Rain King? The 'Sungo,' as the serpent phrased it? Very well!" Icrin shouted childishly as he reached his arms into the sky. Storm clouds brewed above, bringing with it the beauty of rain dancing in the sky despite previously being a droughted land.

As if possessed by an unknown madness, Icrin continued to experiment. The sun set as the moon rose. And soon, snowflakes gently descended from the sky. The desert sand was coated in frost, before suddenly melting away.

Once again, Icrin experimented as he changed the ground from sand to grass, and lush vegetation grew with crops ready for harvest. An apple tree rich in nutrients grew in front of him, and Icrin plucked a fresh apple from the tree's perch before biting into it.

He had become the king, not of the palace, but of the laws that governed the world itself.

"You little runt! Quit playing around!" A ghastly voice hissed into Icrin's mind.

Icrin started off for the palace entry when he was struck with a thought, "HAH! GATE! OPEN!"

A red door opened, to which he entered in delight. Within mere seconds, he found himself in the royal chamber.

"Hiss. Teleportation, quite fancy, huh? Well, you have succeeded in becoming the king. You may take the crown child." The serpent hissed with a hint of interest in its silver glittering eyes.

Icrin nodded as he lifted the black crown carefully from the stand, aligning the silver gem's position properly as he placed it upon his head. Icrin then turned to the throne.

"Runt—or should I say King? What is the consummate technique you have come up with?" The serpent asked.

"I'm not sure what to call it... But it's the ability to fix a memory, or to clarify the difference between fact and reality with the bite of a serpent."

The serpent tilted its head, "Why not call it the Mark of Sapience? And I'll give you some advice, child. If you can fix someone's memory, then you can distort someone's memory as well... Confusing fact and fantasy. Why not call that the Mark of Paramnesia? It's simply a reverse mechanism, you know?"

"Uh-hm! Thank you for your guidance!"

"Now, take your seat upon the throne. And good luck, child." The serpent's hiss sounded, much warmer as if satisfied with Icrin's success.

"Un. Thank you!" Icrin spoke as he wriggled towards the throne childishly, before sitting down awkwardly. Then, the silver gem embedded within the crown flashed for a brief second before creating an illusion of its own.

Icrin now wore a silver robe, embroiled with numerous sigils of the different statues and strange symbols, the flickering of countless auras, and the crown atop his head signaling him as the true king.

The ability to control the world laws, would he one day master that? Icrin's eyes glittered with the same expectation of countless other children, and he dreamt the same dreams as any other cultivator—to go higher.

To reach the peak. And once one reaches the peak, they will strive to surpass that too. To go above the earth, surpass the sky, venture into the heavens, and travel to places unknown.

Icrin's heart pumped as he relished in the feeling of being a king before the silver gem flashed once again, and Icrin found himself standing in front of the serpent statue.

'Two more statues... The wolf and the bear. And lastly is the Ancestral Hall. How far will I go?' Icrin thought with even paler blue eyes than before.