Chapter 212: The Avenger

Chapter Two Hundred Twelve
The Avenger

In the north of the Loen Kingdom, September’s wind carried a few threads of chill within its coolness. After passing through the cemetery, it gained an even colder, more piercing quality.

Klein shivered from the wind and abruptly came back to himself. With a bitter smile, he muttered, “So this transmigration really does hide a few secrets…”

“But from the look of it, at most I can ‘revive’ only two more times. I wonder if this recovery ability, which normally does not appear, would still work if I were chopped into mincemeat…”

…

After calming himself for dozens of seconds, Klein buttoned his shirt and discovered that what he wore was his newest shirt and formal tailcoat, though both were now stained with quite a bit of soil.

…Benson and Melissa really do not know how to be frugal…

The thought surfaced instinctively. Bracing a hand against the side, he flipped himself up and stood, discovering that his Clown abilities had not disappeared.

“The best elder brother… The best younger brother… The best colleague…”

Klein looked toward the tombstone and silently recited the epitaph carved upon it. His heart suddenly clenched with sour pain, as though he finally felt the grief Benson and Melissa had endured.

This might be even harder to bear than watching the Captain die before my eyes…

He sighed, withdrew his gaze, crouched, and closed the coffin lid again.

Although his thoughts were still somewhat scattered, Klein knew that he had to handle the scene as quickly as possible. He could not let anyone discover him.

Resurrection was not something ordinary people were meant to play with.

If the Nighthawks, the Mandated Punishers, or the Machinery Hivemind learned of it, Klein believed he would meet no good end. Of course, if this were Earth, and if the potion he had consumed were Lawyer or Swindler, perhaps he could fool people into believing he was a “favored one of God” or “a redeemed man.” But this world had true gods—true gods who responded to rituals.

Once more filling the grave with soil and covering it with the stone slab, Klein clapped dirt from his hands and stood again.

In this place and at this moment, without any further special details, he looked merely like a gentleman who had come late at night to mourn a friend. The only thing wrong was that the person in the photograph on the tombstone looked exactly like him.

During the process just now, his inspiration had sensed the existence of Azik’s copper whistle, so he had dug it out and wiped it clean.

However, Klein did not intend to summon the messenger immediately. He decided first to understand the current situation.

Raising his left hand, he saw the citrine pendant still wound around his wrist.

“This counts as a burial object now, does it not?”

He smiled self-mockingly, unwound the pendulum, then lifted his head and looked around. His expression gradually grew solemn.

“…The Captain should also be buried in this cemetery, right…?”

He changed directions twice in succession and finally used the pendulum to determine the location of Dunn’s grave.

Borrowing moonlight as he walked and searched, after more than ten minutes, Klein saw the Captain’s black-and-white photograph: gentle expression, relatively high hairline, the gray of his eyes faintly visible, hardly different from usual.

Below the photograph were Dunn’s name, date of birth, date of death, and epitaph:

“A true guardian;”

“The most trustworthy companion;”

“Forever our Captain.”

Klein stared blankly at it. For some reason, his vision blurred again. In a daze, he returned to that day, to the moment he saw the Captain turn his head, wink his left eye at him, and say in that mellow voice, with an easy tone:

“We saved Tingen.”

Captain…

Klein called soundlessly.

Like a statue, he stood there for several minutes. Then he suddenly gave a faint smile and said, “Captain, your mental state that day must really have been poor. You even said that if Old Neil had not lost control, you could have ‘brought’ him into your dream. But he was a Mystery Pryer, and you are a Nightmare. You could never have consumed the Beyonder characteristics he left behind. Mm… and you never asked what powerful offensive methods I had. Was that because you trusted me, or because you forgot about it? But surely you must have guessed something. I only took one Sealed Artifact and said it was for Leonard. Even if you thought with your toes, you should have realized I had an additional powerful attack method.”

Having rambled to this point, Klein paused, shook his head, and sighed.

“I do not know what I count as now. Perhaps I am merely an evil spirit that crawled out of hell, wanting revenge…”

As he spoke, the words suddenly would not continue. Tear after tear slid down his cheeks. Finally, with a choked voice, he cried out softly:

“Captain… we cannot bear to part with you either!”

Feeling the cold, chilly wind sweep past, Klein raised a hand, wiped his eyes, and rubbed his nose.

Returning to silence, he found a hidden place nearby, walked four steps counterclockwise, and entered above the gray fog.

He wanted to borrow divination to understand the person who had killed him that day, to understand the true culprit behind everything that had happened.

Since he had appeared before me, I can definitely divine some information about him…

Klein pressed his lips together and saw that the towering, magnificent palace and the ancient, mottled long table had not changed in the slightest.

He sat in the seat belonging to The Fool and manifested yellowish-brown parchment and a round-bellied fountain pen before him.

Because his body outside had very little protection, Klein did not delay. After brief thought, he wrote down a divination statement:

“The person who killed me.”

He silently recited it seven times, leaned back against the high-backed chair, and with meditation’s aid, entered a dream.

Inside a gray world, countless points of light flew and gathered, finally merging into a scene.

A pair of polished leather boots. A slightly pale hand. Saint Selena’s casket held by that hand.

The perspective gradually lifted. Klein saw a middle-aged man with short dark-gold hair.

He wore a black double-breasted formal coat. One of his eyes was clearly blind. His remaining eye was deep blue, almost black. His facial contours were sharply carved, without the slightest wrinkle.

The scene shattered, and Klein woke from the dream. His brows furrowed slightly. He felt that the person who had killed him looked familiar.

As a Seer, he quickly confirmed why he felt that familiarity: he had seen that man’s photograph and description on a wanted notice.

The murderer was Ince Zangwill.

Former archbishop of the Church of the Evernight Goddess, a Gatekeeper who had failed to advance, and the man who fled with Sealed Artifact 0-08.

“It was him!”

Countless scenes flashed through Klein’s mind, finally freezing on the image of that man picking up Saint Selena’s casket.

Tak. Tak. Tak.

He tapped the edge of the bronze long table with his fingers, feeling that he had understood quite a lot.

“The Captain said that Beyonders who die normally also leave behind Beyonder characteristics. When those characteristics gather, they are roughly equivalent to a potion lacking supplementary ingredients.

“In other words, as long as one knows the corresponding supplementary ingredients, one can use ‘relics’ to advance. Of course, one cannot consume beyond one’s rank. That would easily cause loss of control or madness.

“Mm… Advancing to a high Sequence requires the cooperation of special rituals. That was mentioned in the incomplete formula for Unshadowed… Later advancements may also require rituals…

“Ince Zangwill is Sequence 5 Gatekeeper of the Death pathway. If he wants to become a high-Sequence powerhouse, to become a demigod, then based on the actual situation of Sequence interchangeability, he has three choices. First, Sequence 4 of the Death pathway itself. Second, Sequence 4 of the Sleepless pathway. Third, Sequence 4 Demon Hunter of the God of Combat pathway.

“Saint Selena was a saint. She was either Sequence 4 or Sequence 3. Her ashes correspond to one of the potions from these two Sequences… As a former archbishop, Ince Zangwill must know exactly which one it is, and he must know the supplementary ingredients too…

“He planned all of this. His true purpose was to obtain Saint Selena’s ashes and use them to advance to Sequence 4 of the Sleepless pathway?

“Mm. The Death descendant’s skull might have been a material required by the special ritual. After all, he was originally from the Death pathway.

“From that point of view, his target was more the Captain than me… As expected of the mastermind behind the scenes…”

Having understood this, Klein wrote down the corresponding divination statement, took up the pendulum, and let the citrine pendant hang over the surface of the paper, nearly touching it.

After silently reciting the statement, he opened his eyes and saw the citrine pendant rotating clockwise.

This meant the prerequisite information was sufficient. The divination had succeeded.

This meant Ince Zangwill had indeed planned this entire series of events for the sake of Saint Selena’s ashes, for the sake of advancing to Sequence 4.

Klein tapped the edge of the table again, thinking through another problem.

“Zangwill was only a Sequence 5 Gatekeeper. By himself, he could not possibly create so many coincidences and make even Megose visit the Nighthawk team at the correct time according to ‘arrangement.’

“So, was that the ability of Sealed Artifact 0-08?

“Its appearance is that of an ordinary quill pen… Does its effect cause whatever it writes down to inevitably happen?

“No. It should not be so simple. Otherwise, Ince Zangwill would only need to write ‘Saint Selena’s ashes grow wings and fly into Ince Zangwill’s hands,’ then sit at home and wait…

“It must have certain limits…

“0-08 most likely does not possess direct offensive ability. Otherwise, Ince Zangwill would have long since broken straight into Tingen’s Chanis Gate…

“This item, located at the very top tier among all Sealed Artifacts, can make people unconsciously act according to its descriptions? Is that the reason behind all those coincidences?

“If that truly is the case, 0-08 really is terrifying. Even Megose, who carried an evil god’s offspring, obeyed its arrangements… No wonder Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts are extremely dangerous, requiring the highest level of attention and the highest secrecy clearance. They cannot be inquired about, cannot be spread, cannot be described, cannot be spied upon…”

Klein stopped tapping the table and performed a divination regarding the conjecture he had just made. Unfortunately, the information was incomplete, and he failed.

Seeing that several minutes had already passed, he intended to return to reality as quickly as possible. He no longer let his thoughts scatter and instead wrote the second-to-last divination statement:

“The city where Ince Zangwill currently is.”

Because of Sealed Artifact 0-08’s existence, and because Ince Zangwill should already have become a demigod, Klein could not directly divine the man’s exact location. He could only widen the range and perform a vague “inquiry.”

Of course, if he did not have the mysterious space above the gray fog to eliminate interference, even a vague inquiry like this would certainly have failed, yielding no answer at all.

Leaning against the high-backed chair, Klein silently recited the divination statement seven times and once again entered the dream, entering that gray world.

The gray world suddenly split open. A surging, broad, slightly turbid river appeared.

Across the river stood a magnificent bridge. On both banks lay dock after dock. Cargo moved busily, and workers were everywhere.

On the northeast bank of the river were rows upon rows of houses. Most possessed the current architectural characteristics of the Loen Kingdom: polygonal hipped roofs, oriel windows, and no street-facing verandas. Apart from those, there were also quite a few Gothic buildings.

People came and went along the streets. Carriages followed one another. From time to time, strange machines could be seen.

The farther east one went, the more chimneys there were, and the thicker the smoke. The farther west one went, the higher the terrain became. Houses of gray-blue, off-white, and pale yellow coiled upward, clustering around magnificent palaces, clustering around a towering Gothic clock tower.

Dong!

The bell rang out. Klein woke and knew which city he had seen.

The “Land of Hope.” The “Capital of Capitals.”

Backlund.