Chapter 88: Harvest

Chapter 88: Harvest

The boundless gray fog boiled, and the ancient, majestic palace burned everywhere.

The blazing flames condensed into a sphere, as though a bright, incandescent sun had risen within this mysterious space.

A howling hurricane overturned the mottled long table and snapped thick stone columns, causing half the palace to collapse with a thunderous crash.

Klein, seated in the position of The Fool, first felt his head boil, then saw it explode with quite a few holes. From the fractured surfaces, one charred worm after another crawled out.

He did not die. He even extended his right hand with complete calm and lightly tapped the armrest of the high-backed chair.

The mysterious space above the gray fog immediately began shaking visibly. Power surged out layer after layer, smoothing the hurricane, extinguishing the flames, and making the blazing white sun rapidly dissipate inch by inch.

The thick stone columns stood once again. The mottled long table returned to its original state. The grand and sacred palace seemed never to have collapsed or suffered damage.

Klein’s head recovered instantly. The worms that had crawled out shed their charred blackness, returned to being transparent, and crawled back inside.

“He is indeed more powerful than the Dragon of Imagination, Ankewelt…” Klein muttered in a low voice. At the same time, his expression twisted uncontrollably, and he could not help raising a hand to rub his forehead. “It hurts… The pain is clearly stronger as well…”

As he whispered, he lightly tapped the edge of the mottled long table, causing the mysterious space above the gray fog to shake again.

Amid the tremor, an intense, pitch-black shadow suddenly surfaced on the palace floor.

The shadow twisted and struggled, but in the end, the power of the gray fog swept it clean away, leaving no trace.

Only after several dozen more seconds did Klein truly recover. He began recalling the images he had just seen.

“That should have been the ancient Sun God, the Creator of the City of Silver, the father of Amon and Adam…

“Judging from the cross ornament He wore and that phrase ‘Let there be light,’ there is a high probability He really was the first transmigrator. Perhaps He was European or American, and very likely had a church background…

“He used a language capable of mobilizing natural forces. It is similar to Jotun, but different, and it does not belong to Elvish, Dragonese, or ancient Hermes. Mm, it resembles both ancient Feysac of the Northern Continent and Dutan of the Southern Continent, to the point that, although I do not grasp this language, I could barely understand what He was saying… Is this the language He mastered inside that strange gray-white building?

“He transmigrated there and inherited a rich legacy?

“The second scene was Him suffering betrayal, the moment before He was devoured by the three Kings of Angels—Pure White, Wisdom, and Wind?

“For a deity who called Himself the Creator, pain and distortion so tangible probably would only appear in that state…

“Mm, the divine blood that dripped down before His fall fused with the silver cross, changing the latter’s form and making it into a Sealed Artifact of considerable level.

“From this perspective, the Unshadowed Cross either fell into the hands of one of the three Kings of Angels—Pure White, Wisdom, or Wind—or into the hands of Amon or Adam. To Them, it is an important relic of Their father.

“The former possibility is not especially high. Both the positive and negative effects of this cross are extremely useful, and its origin is a secret that must be concealed. No one would send it to the Augustus family… Looking at it this way, it truly may be Adam’s arrangement.

“Why would He naturally and reasonably give the Unshadowed Cross to Miss Magician or Miss Judgement?

“Has He already, through a certain amount of observation, discovered that those two ladies believe in The Fool?

“Is this cross meant for The Fool who does not belong to this era?

“Does He wish to know where His father, who likewise did not belong to that era, came from? The problem is, how does He plan to ask the question, and how does He plan to harvest the answer?

“The Creator of the City of Silver truly possessed a very high status. Even separated by long history, He detected my ‘peering,’ cast His gaze above the gray fog, and looked into this mysterious space. And the influence He caused was not only outward destruction, but also hidden corrosion that produced a strange shadow. It nearly managed to lurk here…

“Does that mean, after grasping authority over multiple domains, a deity’s status undergoes a qualitative change?

“And what exactly did He mean by whispering ‘Mysteries’? Was He referring to me, or to this mysterious space’s original owner?”

Question after question flashed through Klein’s mind, giving him many guesses but no final answer.

Based on his fear of Adam, he felt that the best ending for the Unshadowed Cross would be to have it shattered by the City of Silver’s god-level Sealed Artifact and reassembled into a pure Beyonder characteristic.

Gathering his thoughts and pressing those questions back into his heart, Klein conjured new paper and pen and wrote down the knowledge he had gained from directly gazing upon the Creator of the City of Silver:

“Sequence 4: Unshadowed.

“Main ingredients: one drop of Sun divine blood, or three tail feathers of an adult Sun Divine Bird and one Sacred Brilliance Stone.

“Supplementary ingredients: 60 milliliters of Sun Divine Bird blood, 30 milliliters of Sacred Brilliance Stone associated liquid, seven drops of mutated golden citron juice, ten grams of Heart of Magma powder.

“Ritual: Separate out the strongest emotion one is least willing to abandon. Then consume the potion, and during the process, channel that emotion back into oneself.”

“Sequence 3: Justice Mentor…”

“Sequence 4: Black Knight…”

“Sequence 3: Trinity Templar…”

After finishing this, Klein picked up the copper-green cross again and examined it with a solemn expression.

Then he threw the Unshadowed Cross into the miscellaneous pile and mobilized the power of the mysterious space above the gray fog to suppress it, lest the paper figurines he had cut begin praising the Sun the next time he came up.

…

Cherwood Borough, in front of an ordinary house.

A postman riding a bicycle squeezed the brakes and stopped outside the door.

He then parked the bicycle, took a letter from the mailbag on the rear seat, and glanced at the address to make sure it was correct.

“This is the place… For Xio…” The postman walked briskly to the mailbox, dropped the letter in, then wasted no time getting back on the bicycle and pedaling away.

After a while, a layer of pitch-black flame suddenly rose from the mailbox’s delivery slot.

The flame burned quietly and quickly vanished.

…

Queen Borough, inside the Hall family’s luxurious villa.

Audrey, who had just led Susie for a stroll around the garden, returned to the hall and saw her father, Earl Hall, enter from outside. As he removed his hat and scarf and handed them to his personal valet, he lightly furrowed his brows, seemingly thinking about something.

“Papa, did something happen?” Audrey asked in concern.

This was the most basic observation. She had no need to conceal anything.

Earl Hall restrained his troubled expression and smiled.

“It is nothing especially important. I simply did not expect Hvin Rambis to be a member of an evil cult.”

“He is a cult member?” Audrey expressed her astonishment with perfect timing.

She knew Hvin Rambis was indeed a high-ranking member of the secret organization known as the Psychology Alchemists, but she did not understand how this matter had suddenly been exposed.

Earl Hall nodded seriously.

“Yes. He is currently wanted by the three Churches. I still do not know which cult he is involved with.”

“…Has he been caught?” Audrey’s eyes shifted slightly as she asked out of “curiosity.”

“No. He had already disappeared before the warrant was issued.” Earl Hall sighed. “It is truly difficult to imagine he was a cultist. He had excellent bearing, profound knowledge, and his views in every respect were rational, fair, and full of wisdom.”

That was only the side he wanted you to see… Audrey muttered inwardly.

Then, as usual, before dinner, she entered the small prayer room in her home and faced the sacred emblem of the Evernight Goddess, assuming a prayer posture.

However, what she quietly recited was:

“The Fool that doesn’t belong to this era…”

After reciting the honorific name, Audrey reported concisely:

“Hvin Rambis has disappeared.

“He has been designated a cultist and is being wanted by the three Churches…”

After finishing this matter, Audrey was just about to turn to seriously praying to the Goddess when large swathes of grayish-white fog suddenly surged before her eyes.

At the center of the grayish-white fog, a blurry figure sat in a chair and, from on high, gently nodded.

“I understand.”

No sooner had this hidden existence’s voice faded than the image before Audrey’s eyes abruptly changed, showing a figure praying with concentration.

“Great Mr. Fool, the Church of Evernight obtained information from Qonas Kilgor confirming that King George III hides a tremendous secret. For the Blood Emperor’s ruin in the Striven section of the Tussock River, he colluded with the Demoness Sect and the Psychology Alchemists, trafficked people, created disappearance cases, and brought about the Great Smog of Backlund…

“The Demoness Sect’s representative in the earlier stage was Despair Nightingale Panatiya, and in the later stage, White Saintess Katerina. The Psychology Alchemists’ representative was Hvin Rambis…

“Please remind Miss Justice that, if she encounters Hvin Rambis again, she must be cautious and always be prepared to request aid.”

His Majesty the King… Audrey’s eyes widened slightly. Waves abruptly rose in her heart, difficult to restrain.

On one hand, this news was too shocking for her as a noble. On the other, the Lie accessory she wore had the effect of magnifying emotions.

Almost at the same time, a report flashed through Audrey’s mind—a report that had left an extremely deep impression on her:

“…According to preliminary statistics, more than 21,000 people died directly in that Great Smog. The plague that spread afterward successively took the lives of nearly 40,000 more. Among them were many young children and strong young men and women…”

So that was it… What exactly is the king plotting… The three Churches probably have not obtained actual evidence. Otherwise, Papa would not have only that level of worry just now… For some reason, Audrey felt both angry and sorrowful, as though some principle she had always upheld had been ruthlessly trampled, as though some value she had long established had silently collapsed.

She instinctively lowered her head and closed her eyes.

Immediately afterward, she inhaled lightly and said in a low voice,

“Thank you, Mr. Fool. Please also convey my gratitude to Mr. World.”

After the prayer ended, Audrey sat in that tranquil darkness, not moving for a long time.