Super Righteous Player
Chapter 662 - 203 Great Calamity Curio: Siren of the 3_1

Chapter 662: Chapter 203 Great Calamity Curio: Siren of the 3_1

Having placed the tableware on the table, Annan followed Grand Duke Ivan into the secret chamber of the grand ducal mansion.

It was not to avoid outsiders but to avoid the Hands of Winter.

Even the Hands of Winter with rings were at most only allowed to know that "the Grand Duke’s tricolor scepter is in itself a Great Calamity Curio"—beneficial for them assisting the Grand Duke in protecting this ultimate treasure.

But deeper secrets... including the true name and effects of this curse, were not allowed to be known to them.

It was a necessary act to maintain rule and tradition.

"And another reason... is actually to protect them,"

Ivan the Grand Duke gazed calmly at Annan, "Last year, I couldn’t be certain whether you would indeed be able to inherit the position of Grand Duke.

"Not for any other reason, but because you reversed the power of ’Winter’s Heart,’ the bloodline Curse Binding—indeed a necessary act for using the Book of the Celestial Chariot. However, it might have caused you to be unable to pick up this scepter... at least half of its abilities would have been unusable to you."

"Winter’s Heart" was indeed exceptionally cruel as a curse.

But it was also a form of protection.

Not for anything else—but to protect one from being misled by the curse of this Great Calamity Curio.

Annan had an epiphany.

In an instant, many subtle and strange things lingering in his cognition connected like lightning in his brain.

So that’s how it is...

No wonder his grandmother had always maintained the curse rooted in their bloodline, watching her descendants slowly wither, suffering through their days on earth; no wonder they would immediately lose this curse upon death.

No wonder the power brought by this curse wasn’t that strong, as if just to prevent death; and no wonder Ivan the Grand Duke, despite possessing the highest level talent of "Blood of the Frigid Winter," still firmly chose not to become a Transcendent.

Perhaps unlike Annan and the other two...

Ivan must have known the secret of this tricolor scepter since he was very small.

Then Ivan’s silence thus far might be because...

"... does carrying this curse come at a terrifying cost?"

"That’s right."

Ivan said slowly.

He moved his hand away from the scepter.

"Words are superfluous."

He answered simply, "Try and feel it for yourself."

... You’re letting me try it directly?

If something happens to me, with your current shape, can you kick me away from this scepter...

Annan muttered to himself.

But he wisely said nothing.

Annan cautiously—very carefully, imitating Ivan’s movements, gently pressed his hand upon the scepter.

Worried it might carry an electric charge or similar effect that could cause his muscles to spasm, Annan didn’t slip his hand inside the ring, to prevent "being stuck"; instead, he lightly grasped the outside of the ring.

Different from what he had imagined.

He didn’t even see the attributes of the curse materialize before his eyes.

Nor did Annan feel any pain—on the contrary, he felt an intensely comfortable sensation.

As if caressed by invisible warm hands, a near-tranquil calmness, joy, and languor surged over him. Annan squinted his eyes as if about to fall asleep right then and there, as if everything had reached its final fulfillment, as if nothing in the world mattered anymore...

"—Wake up, Annan."

Suddenly, Annan felt a gentle push from in front of him.

Annan did not resist it at all.

Not until Ivan pushed him away from the scepter—only as his hand left it did Annan wake up in an instant.

The sleepy feeling made him instantly on high alert.

It even reminded him of the first time he met the Rotting Husband, that immensely comforting, yet slow-reacting aromatic scent emanating from him.

"... What is that?"

Annan asked cautiously, "Is that its inherent effect... or the curse?"

"Both,"

Ivan replied succinctly, "This is one form of the scepter.

"Try flipping it and holding it."

"... Flip it over?"

"That’s right. Place the cross and ring at the bottom, and change the three-pronged end to the top—in other words, hold it upside down... Try it and see if you can use it that way."

With a serious tone, Ivan said, "If you can, then I will tell you its name. If it still doesn’t work, then I will have no choice but to pass it on to Dmitry.

"Even though he lacks the capability to bear children... there’s no other way. This is the only method to conceal the existence of this ’great item.’ But Dmitry is too naïve and easily exploited. If that’s the case, I will think of a way for you to overshadow him... and for you to quickly have a child, adopted under his name to become the heir."

"...Let’s not talk so much for now, let me just give it a try."

Annan felt slightly uncomfortable at the mention of marriage.

He cut off Ivan’s speech, took a deep breath, and looked earnestly at the scepter.

Then, with a burst of effort—he suddenly picked it up and, with his last bit of wisdom, turned the scepter upside down.

"...Eh?"

In that instant, Annan couldn’t help but let out a light gasp.

A breath of extreme cold emanated from the scepter, flowing through his body in the blink of an eye.

Unlike the previous warm current that induced a feeling of sleepy tranquility, this cold stream instantly washed away all the drowsiness Annan had felt.

It didn’t cause Annan any painful coldness but made him shiver, as though all the blood vessels in his body opened up and his mind became incredibly clear in an instant.

"...It seems you are more suited to the ’Tyrant’ form," Ivan remarked as he glanced into Annan’s eyes, visibly relieved.

"Tyrant?"

"It’s one of its two forms."

Ivan explained, "The true name of this great item is the ’Sirens of the Number Three.’ It has two different forms, one that brings boundless joy called ’Drunkard,’ and another that invokes infinite rage called ’Tyrant’..."

The rest of the explanation was actually unnecessary.

The moment Annan heard the name ’Sirens of the Number Three,’ the system panel finally appeared before his eyes:

[Sirens of the Number Three: Tyrant]

[Type: Supreme Proof (Orange)]

[Description: A token of authority from the ancient elven kings, made from the lives of the innocent, the souls of the guilty, and the will of the saints. Those who seek this cursed power will only become a Drunkard or a Tyrant.]

[Description: The Sirens in reversed position will transform you into the form of a Tyrant.]

[Effect: The holder will be afflicted with Curse Binding ’Doubtful Mind,’ ’Wrathful Spirit,’ ’Mad Blood’]

[Doubtful Mind: You will always suspect and envy others until you summon ’Chaste Sound’; if you do not do so, you will receive three times the efficiency in learning, training, and growth (your experience gains and attribute growth rate triple).]

[Wrathful Spirit: You will forever be caught in irrevocable rage until you summon ’Clear Tune’; if you do not do so, all damage you deal to others is unconditionally tripled (while holding the scepter, all your damage is increased by 200%).]

[Mad Blood: You will fall into madness at irregular intervals, with random negative emotions amplified, until you summon ’White Lady’; if you do not do so, you can permanently control the will of three Transcendents (can be used three times only, exclusively on Transcendents; each use can permanently rewrite the mind of one Gold-rank and below Transcendent, but there is a one-third chance of corrupting them into a fallen being of the same rank).]

"...Is this a Great Calamity Curio?"

Annan was conflicted.

Is its power strong?

Indeed, very strong. Unquestionably powerful.

But it seems... not irreplaceable?

Compared to the power it bestowed, its curse seemed even more unbearable. If Ivan were to pick up the ’Tyrant’ form of the Sirens of the Number Three, he would probably instantly become a horrific Tyrant.

It was only because Annan held the ’Bounty of Winter’ in reversed position that he could negate its negative effects.

...On that note, its ’upright’ form should have a completely different effect. However, Annan simply couldn’t pick it up—in the moment he touched the upright position, he almost immediately became a blissfully ignorant fool.

"In fact, you can consider it a form of ’seal’," Ivan said slowly. "You must have felt it, its power and curse are predicated on ’not releasing the Sirens.’ But it has another use, which is to release one of the staff’s ’three colors’ to summon a Siren. However, nobody knows what would happen if the Sirens were to be summoned..."

"Have the Sirens ever been summoned?"

Annan couldn’t help but inquire.

He indeed knew what Sirens were—when he saw those three names, he guessed it was certainly the "Sirens" he knew of.

Only, Annan wasn’t sure if the Sirens of this world matched what he knew.

—After all, in this world, even Master Michelangelo had become a deity.

"In fact, the Sirens have been summoned once."

"When was that?"

"It was the year the Aesirland imperial capital sank."

Ivan furrowed his brows, speaking very seriously:

"...In any case, it would be best for you to avoid being curious."