[HOW TO SUMMON □□□□]

[In the □ drawn □

Defile the earth with □□□ blood of □□

Draw a circle with your □ □ hands

Bow down and look up to □

Make grapes ripen on thornbushes

And make figs bear fruit on thistles

□□ and □□

Turn around the earth and welcome the □□ of □□ who will descend to this world]

Meow.

---

Evangeline Rohanson, the only daughter of Count Rohanson, was dead.

Officially, it was announced as death by illness, but the servants working at the Rohanson estate could never forget those pale feet swaying in the wind, hanging from the luxuriantly blooming cherry tree branches.

How red and beautiful the cherry blossoms had bloomed that day - it seemed as if their rich fragrance still lingered at the tip of their noses.

Or perhaps it was because of the cherry blossoms that filled the coffin instead of white lilies.

The funeral was held at the mansion because her cause of death was not the sort of thing that should become public knowledge.

After finishing the ceremony in the annex, instead of placing her in the temple, they planned to erect a tombstone in one corner of the rear garden. The temple wouldn't accept someone who had committed suicide, so there was no other choice, but people who didn't know the circumstances simply praised the Count's love for his child and expressed their condolences.

The funeral was modest.

Naturally, a noble's funeral should be splendid and magnificent even on their final journey, but Evangeline's ceremony somehow looked shabby for a noble family's young lady's funeral.

Using the excuse that the disease might be contagious, they refused condolences from other nobles, so the only ones filling the seats were servants working at the mansion and a few knights.

Whether it was because there weren't many guests, or because even at a funeral no one was crying for the deceased, somewhere an eerie feeling circulated through the venue.

At least the prayers recited by the priest dispelled the gloominess.

The one presiding over the funeral was a priest of no great renown. Though his appearance reciting prayers and his pristine ceremonial robes looked devout, if he had truly known honor, he wouldn't have joined this occasion for the sake of gold coins.

Once the priest's prayers ended, the ceremony would be nearly finished. Now they just needed to close the coffin and place the corpse in the pre-dug hole.

It was when several servants who had been instructed beforehand to move the coffin were preparing.

In the funeral hall filled only with silence, suddenly a rustling sound rang out particularly loudly.

The priest, who was obsessively concerned with his authority, cleared his throat and warned them to be careful, trying to continue his prayers, but the commotion grew worse.

The sound of grass rustling, something unoiled clashing bone against bone as it moved, the creaking sound of wood. Small, tiny noises gathered in one place, and just as people began to murmur, the priest who couldn't stand it anymore stopped praying and opened his eyes.

And the priest came face to face with the cause of people's disturbance.

Snow-white hair poured down like a waterfall. The soft-looking hair texture seemed somehow like spider webs gathered and stretched long rather than silk threads.

Her eyelashes trembled, then behind the opened eyelids, bright red pupils were revealed. The color resembled a creature's heart rather than ruby-like jewels.

Except for those red eyes that seemed to have condensed blood, everything else was purely white. Wearing a white dress alone among the black mourning clothes, she looked like an otherworldly being brought from a realm separate from this world. She was quiet, cold, and pale.

The priest realized why those small sounds he had first heard seemed particularly loud. Because he had been closest to the coffin, it was inevitable. The priest called out to his god in his heart and recited prayers.

Unfortunately, there was no effect.

The revived corpse now began to move. Starting with bending her hands, she tried making fists, blinking her eyes, and turning her head. It was exactly like something that wasn't human handling an unfamiliar body.

She looked at the chandelier swaying from the ceiling, then immediately scanned the people in the funeral hall. Those who met that gaze startled, covered their mouths, and held their breath.

When that gaze finally reached the priest, he fully understood why people had reacted that way. It was as if he was facing a famous painting with human eyes embedded in it. Moreover, weren't the eyes in the painting moving to look at him?

Since he had been caught in the eyes of something ominous that shouldn't exist or rise up, it would have been better to escape by biting his tongue or strangling himself.

It would be more natural if a famous painting had walked out of its canvas, or if a sculpture carved delicately by grinding souls was pretending to be human. Compared to that thing, a marionette doll tied to puppet strings would be closer to something alive.

"...What is my name?"

Finally, that thing spewed human words from its mouth.

The thing that had taken over Evangeline Rohanson's body finished adapting to its new body and smiled as if extremely satisfied.