The Shepherds Are Dense-Chapter 30: Forbidden Technique — The Pastoral Rite

When Aiwass closed the
Shepherd's Secret
, the black leather book no longer emitted that soft, subtle texture like human skin.
It remained silent, as if all that existed before was only an illusion.
And now, finally Aiwass realized why he had not seen this book in the original timeline.
Because—if one actually succeeded in opening this book properly, they would most likely ruin it without thinking twice.
What was contained in it was simply too dangerous.
It addressed a fundamental flaw in the Path of Transcendence: its inability to make anybody stronger
except
oneself.
The Transcendence Path was about going against the higher, about seeking what is beyond—a selfish path in and of itself.
Depend on its strength alone, one could not elevate others. It was for this reason that, as much as they tended to congregate in hordes, demonologists had never coalesced into a single, unified force.
The
Pastoral Rite
, however, brought together a central tenet of the Path of Devotion: self-sacrifice for the good of others.
Feeding one's own flesh and blood to demons, then granting the demons' strength to mortals—such reasoning was fully in keeping with the precepts of Devotion.
Besides, in that line of action, the demon was symbolic. Just like making money and giving it to the poor.
Similarly, employing humans as offerings to feed demons, assisting the ghostly creatures to grow powerful without demanding any payback—this too was true to Devotion's altruism principle.
And if the demon granted power in exchange, and the practitioner
still
did not take any of it, but rather imparted all of it to others—that transformed the act into a non-transactional one, and therefore within Devotion's moral code.
This whole apparatus smelled of demonically motivated ambition, an unvarnished desire for advancement—yet it also contained a divine benevolence, strictly adhering to the dictum of "enabling others to gain power in order to achieve their desires."
The Shepherd's behaviors were not commerce but gratuitous charity.
And yet the Shepherd still got all that they wanted, creating an almost endless loop.
"I must burn this book."
Aiwass had never been so sure of anything.
If anyone other than himself read it, they would definitely see the "Great Beasts" of the Beastmaster as cattle in the Shepherd's field.
And if this book really was part of the Path of Devotion, it would not have been a Forbidden Tome and sealed by the Inquisition.
Its seizure in and of itself was proof enough of its corruption.
So, sure, because the Inquisition
provided
this book to Aiwass, reading it was perfectly legal. So long as he didn't share the knowledge, they would close their eyes.
That was not the issue.
The question really was… where had the Inquisition
discovered
this book?
It was the
original manuscript
. Whoever opened it properly would become the Shepherd's heir.
Did that imply someone somewhere had
already
assumed the role of the Shepherd?
If someone were aware of the
Shepherd's Secret
, and followed its path to the Glass Island branch of the Inquisition… they would ultimately end up at Aiwass.
This faceless foe caused his heart to tighten.
He didn't know who they were—maybe inheritors of the Shepherd, or maybe another force with a mission to pursue them.
He didn't even know
if
they even existed.
But just in case…
Aiwass needed to establish more influence in Avalon.
Only then could he have his way with the Inquisition to pursue this potential Shepherd in reverse.
And in the meantime, he
did
now own the Pastoral Rite…
After finishing reading the book, both his
Cleric
and
Demonologist
classes had learned a new technique in silence.
His complete ability panel now looked like this:
---
Cleric LV6
:
[Basic Prayer – Lv2 (3%)]
[Sacred Flame – Lv1 (5%)]
[Illumination – Lv1 (15%)]
[Blessing – Lv1 (0%)]
[*Pastoral Rite (Flesh)* – Lv1 (0%)]
Demonologist LV5
:
[Demonic Lore – Lv1 (16%)]
[Basic Rituals – Lv1 (5%)]
[Demonic Contract – Lv2 (3%)]
[*Pastoral Rite (Essence)* – Lv1 (0%)]
---
Activated Paths
:
Devotion – Tier 1
Transcendence – Tier 1
---
Mana Pool:
2/5 (Light), 4/5 (Dark), 11/15 (Fire)
Free EXP
: 50
---
Path Traits
:
Transcendence – Shadow Affinity Lv1
:
You made a soul covenant with a shadow demon, allowing you free access to Tier 1 shadow abilities.
Devotion – Flame Vessel Lv1
:
You consumed the Blood of the Firebearer; your soul has grown. Max Fire Mana +14.
Authority – Silver Scale
:
With this mark, the Dragon of the Silver Crown is upon you. A promise made should never be broken. When striking oathbreakers, obtain +1 Divine Favor.
---
As the destined heir—Aiwass had in fact received the entire
Pastoral Rite
.
And he couldn't help but admit—
This forbidden art was
very
helpful.
For only when Aiwass read of "feeding flesh to strengthen a phantasm" did he catch an enormous mistake.
In the game, Sinners and Beastmasters would level up their beasts by farming same-attribute phantasms—just queue a dungeon with the proper elemental boss, fight, feed the corpse, repeat.
That did not function in the real world.
There was no "dungeon finder," and phantasms weren't respawning bosses ad infinitum.
That left him with only one alternative: feeding rare, attribute-matching material.
It was expensive, time-consuming, and needed a broad network of information.
But with
Pastoral Rite (Flesh)
, he could feed
himself
as the offering.
Aiwass had sworn never to sacrifice the lives or bodies of his own kind in ritual.
But this wasn't offering
them
—he was offering himself.
Self-sacrifice was a common Demonologist skill, and wouldn't hold him back from rising into the Sinner class.
Despite the Shepherd having grown gaunt and pockmarked through incessant flesh-eating.
Aiwass had received the most traditional cleric education. Of the four sacred arts the Church had compiled across the centuries, the
Sacred Flame
spell facilitated quick healing of wounds and strength.
No need to sacrifice others as offerings.
He merely let phantasms gradually feed on his own flesh and blood.
Granted, he could not construct an endless loop of divine meat and endless recipients like the original Shepherd.
He could nourish phantasms. He could share their power with others.
But he could not make his followers into food for the phantasms—that would be a breach of his promise and sully his soul.
And now, Aiwass realized why the black book had responded when it approached Yulia.
Because it could smell the starved phantasm inside her—a long-repressed beast.
The
original manuscript
contained a distant spiritual knowing.
It was the simplest way to get young phantasms to hatch phantasm-eggs.
In the visions of the
Shepherd's Secret
, Aiwass had already witnessed how the middle-phase Shepherd did just that—his troops collected children from around the globe who bore nascent phantasms.
With long-term nourishment using blood-enriched soup, their phantasms would develop quickly, bursting the egg and out into the world.
"……In any event, I have to destroy this book first."
Aiwass spoke quietly.
Whether he became the last boss or not, this book
could not
be given to his foster father.
It would be still worse if Edward or Yulia were to read it.
The knowledge was already in Aiwass's head—he couldn't even erase it if he wanted to.
The moment he got it, he would be a user, regardless.
In that situation, there was no reason to hold anything back.
Not only would he
apply
the technique—he would apply it
to the extreme
.
And as it turned out, he now had the ideal chance to see just how well the
Pastoral Rite
could calm a phantasm…
Thinking this, Aiwass rose from his wheelchair.
The instant his feet touched the ground, his spirit created a stable circuit with the earth.
The shadow demon lying in his shadow woke up immediately.
His shadow radiated out like ink spreading through parchment.
[My master…]
A heavy, resonant voice echoed in his head, full of menace.
[Why have you called me…?]
"Destroy it."
Aiwass answered calmly, dumping the
Shepherd's Secret
into the churning pool of darkness.
But it was not destroyed.
The shadow demon registered distinct annoyance.
[Heh. You can't use me as a trash can, master. I hunger for fresh meat… holy souls… I—
Before it could conclude, Aiwass drew his silver ritual dagger.
It was sharp, but delicate—not for actual fighting.
He anointed it with essential oils charged with Light and Dark mana, then ran it through fire.
A dull, muffled glow radiated from the blade.
Aiwass extended his right hand and inhaled deeply.
Then gripped the blade tightly, until it cut tendon and champed into bone.
"Take it, then. My blood, my bones, my flesh…"
He spoke silently:
[Feed in silence, my lamb…]
[I am the sacrament. This is mercy.]
His mana pool suddenly relaxed.
All of his remaining mana in the three colors flooded into his blood like a bathtub with the plug removed.
He
imagined
his blood from the wound as golden honey, as white milk.
With sorrowful compassion lowering his eyes, he gazed at the shadow demon—not with pain or terror, but with kindness.
As if before him were not a killer demon, but a famished road child.
It was clean, level, higher grace.
—Spontaneous sacrifice had some holiness. It was how he used to call forth upper demons.
And now, this ritual blood became a delicacy—a feast divine.
The protesting shadow demon fell silent.
It rose like a snake, wrapping around Aiwass's hand, licking each drop of the blood with wild hunger.
Even though his mana pool had run dry and the ritual finished, it continued licking like a dog relishing its master's palm.
"…Seems you enjoyed that."
Aiwass grinned weakly, face white with blood loss and agony.
He sounded weak—half with pain, half with exhaustion.
While under the ritual, he'd not dared to even wince.
But now he could.
The deep gash had ached violently, but he'd gotten through it, and the ritual had been successful.
[…Yes, Master.]
The tone of the shadow demon relaxed at once.
[…I adored it.]
Its tone became fawning, sycophantic—less demonic, more a husky female sigh.
Shadow demons were formless and genderless.
This was its stilted attempt at flattery.
"Then come back," Aiwass instructed calmly. "Do you recall what I had you do?"
[Of course, my noble master…]
It assumed the form of a black hunting hound and sprang toward the
Shepherd's Secret
.
But as soon as it hit, the book exploded in bursts of fiery light, like a book hammered by a hammer.
The book fought back—just ripped, not destroyed.
Enraged, the demon transformed into a humongous direwolf and smashed it again.
This time, the darkness stabbed through the pages.
The book shrunk, charred, contorted—till it disintegrated into dust.
The shadow demon receded into Aiwass's shadow.
He did not even have time to wipe clean the dagger, just hurriedly sheathed it.
It would certainly be destroyed, but he couldn't be bothered.
Because the ritual had made him weak and dizzy.
His fingers shook uncontrollably.
His brain throbbed, his vision distorted, expanding and contracting like intoxicated intoxication.
—Next time, save up mana to employ
Sacred Flame
. Fatigue strikes
hard
…
Well. Lesson learned. Better here than in actual peril.
That was Aiwass's last coherent thought as he stumbled towards his bed.
He fell without removing his clothes or pulling the covers over him.
And fainted.
---
(End of Chapter)