I can copy tags infinitely.

Seeing Caesar's willingness to risk his life, Morrison remained silent for a long time before nodding solemnly.

"I understand, Your Highness. Since you insist on this, I am willing to witness it until the very end."

After saying that, Morrison got up and began preparations as Caesar had instructed.

Carlton Palace has a large staff, so preparations were completed quickly.

A small room was specially set aside in the palace for Caesar's use, and he went inside.

The room was poorly lit, with oil lamps filled with whale oil burning around it to help Caesar see his surroundings.

A straw doll, slightly larger than the palm of his hand, was held in Caesar's hand. This was the object that would determine his fate.

"Cough cough cough..." Caesar covered his mouth with his hand, suppressing the urge to cough, and turned to Morrison, asking, "I have a general understanding of the use of so-called 'birth date and time,' give me a pen."

Morrison nodded slightly, but since he didn't have a pen to write with, he handed Caesar the paintbrush he carried with him.

Taking the paintbrush, Caesar wrote his name, birth date, and his request on the scarecrow.

"I hope that the illness that plagues me can be alleviated."

Taking a deep breath, Caesar took out a small piece of paper.

These are the words he copied from the title page of the "Jade Record Commentary," the incantation required for the ritual that the "pioneer" had told him.

However, the incantation for sending the substitute was a scripture from Taoism. Not to mention Caesar, Chinese was a completely unfamiliar language in London at this time, so Li En copied down the approximate syllables one by one according to the method of homophony.

They even clearly marked the punctuation for Caesar.

"Straw man, straw man, before it is consecrated, it is just straw. After consecration, it becomes supernatural. The woman is Tang San Niang, and the man is Wu Jixiang. Thirty-six blades of grass transform into thirty-six joints, each joint being a body, each joint being a person..."

Speaking in a completely unfamiliar language, Caesar couldn't understand the meaning at all, but he had a vague feeling about it.

A feeling of coldness down the back.

He felt as if something was watching him in a way he couldn't see.

His gaze swept over his own body, his heart pounded slightly faster, and a gentle touch spread across the surface of his heart.

Morrison watched all of this silently, his expression somewhat unpleasant, but he did not choose to stop it.

He respects Caesar's choice and will see it through to the end.

"Open your hands to bring in wealth, open your feet to carry away misfortune, and let a certain calamity depart..."

Caesar continued to murmur in the unfamiliar language, his feeling of being watched growing stronger.

There seemed to be something around him, in the air, but he couldn't see it.

Or rather, it is invisible to the naked eye of ordinary people!

Caesar dared not let his guard down and continued to recite the transliterated text on the slip of paper.

He felt an itching sensation on his scalp, as if maggots were crawling and writhing on it, but he dared not touch it, for fear of interrupting his chanting.

As the chanting progressed, the itching sensation on Caesar's head quickly turned into a pain that felt like his entire skull was being torn apart!

Spirituality was pouring in, and his fragile soul could not withstand such a large amount of spirituality!

He never ascended; his reason, soul, and cognition were far from reaching the first level, the lunar layer, so naturally he could not withstand such a large amount of spirituality.

But even so, Caesar did not stop.

The thought of surviving, and the obsession with something he would do afterward, overcame his fear of death and pain!

"If you want punishment, punish the mountain; if you want to overcome the sea, overcome the tree; if you want to kill, kill the tree. If there is no punishment, no overcoming, no killing, then you will be protected..."

As he read this passage, Caesar felt a sharp pain in his chest.

He vomited a mouthful of dark blood from his throat. The blood was foul-smelling and mixed with some disgusting flocculent matter, like a pile of garbage dredged up from the Thames River.

"Your Highness..."

Morrison tried to step forward, but Caesar raised his hand with difficulty, stopping him.

His calm eyes were filled with a determination to live, which stunned Morrison, who instinctively stopped himself from acting.

Taking a deep breath, Caesar swallowed the remaining black blood in his mouth and, stiffly and awkwardly, read out the last paragraph using transliteration.

"I am acting on the orders of the Supreme Lord Laozi, and the divine soldiers are here with utmost urgency."

After reciting the last unfamiliar words, Caesar ripped out a strand of his own hair and stuffed it into the scarecrow's mouth.

Next, you set it on fire and watch it disappear before your eyes.

Whether it succeeds or not depends on the final result.

Without the slightest hesitation, Caesar placed the scarecrow on the lamp's flame.

The flames gently licked the scarecrow's body, and in an instant, the bright flames engulfed the entire scarecrow.

Wisps of black smoke rose into the air, and the scarecrow was quickly engulfed by flames. The firelight reflected in Caesar's expectant eyes, making them gleam.

"Your Highness," Morrison rushed to Caesar's side as the scarecrow was completely engulfed by flames, asking, "Are you alright? How are you feeling?"

Caesar touched his chest, checking if his body felt any different from usual.

Soon, a look of surprise appeared on his face.

"My breathing...is much easier!"

For a lung cancer patient, determining whether breathing is smooth is as simple as distinguishing between tea and regular hot water.

Caesar could clearly feel that breathing was no longer a burden, although his lungs were still slightly shrunken due to the pollution in London.

But compared to when I was lingering at the gates of hell, I'm so much better now!

This is absolutely not a psychological suggestion, but a ritual that is truly effective!

"The Pioneer is real. He... no, He truly possesses the knowledge and ability to change the fate of others!"

Having just begun to feel better, Caesar immediately scrambled to his feet. "Quick, take me back to the London Library!"

The servants, bewildered, didn't understand why His Highness was running around like a madman today. But given Caesar's status, even if they had a thousand questions, they could only follow Caesar's orders.

The servants prepared a carriage, and attendants escorted Caesar all the way to the London Library.

Stumbling and staggering into the library, Caesar found the book "The Commentary on the Jade Record" and struggled to put two drops of eye drops into his eyes.

Then, like a dying man who had wandered in the desert for a long time and finally saw an oasis in despair, he took out the pen-shaped object from his pocket and tremblingly left his respectful reply on the title page.

After doing all this, Caesar closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

"call……"

With a sigh of relief, Caesar stepped out from between the bookshelves and stood in the very center of the library.

Beneath his feet lay a map showing the distribution of the entire solar system.

In human perception, planets revolve around the central sun, and the rest of the night sky is pristine, untouched by any dust.

"This is... what it feels like to breathe freely..."

Although the air was filled with smog and coal dust, just one breath was enough to feel a burning pain in the lungs.

But Caesar was still breathing.

This is his right.

The right to breathe freely.

This power was obtained by the pioneer who left a message in the "Commentary on the Jade Record".

"I may have come into contact with something extraordinary." Caesar still remembered the feeling of being watched by some unseen being during the ritual.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

Once he had the idea of ​​wanting to live, there was no turning back.

"Caesar?"

Only then did Monroe notice Caesar standing in the library. "You seem to be in a pretty good mood?"

Upon hearing this, Caesar smiled and nodded in acknowledgment.

"not bad."

Monroe looked at Caesar with a strange expression.

Is it just my imagination?

Why did he feel that Caesar's complexion had improved considerably?

"I'll head back now, my friend. I might come to the library more often from now on," Caesar said to Monroe. "I hope that every time I see you and Mr. Wells, I'll stay true to myself."

He believed he had already come into contact with the mystical aspects of the world, and that he couldn't be equated with ordinary people like Monroe.

But coincidentally, Monroe thought so too.

"Really?" Monroe looked at the book in his hands and gave a slightly awkward smile.

"I think so too."

The two exchanged a glance, said their goodbyes, and returned to their respective careers.