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…