Chapter 181: “Sefirah Castle”

Chapter 181: “Sefirah Castle”

Only when those two burning, dark-red flames drifted down from the Fog Hounds and hovered before Klein did he finally come back to himself, filled with both confusion and relief.

“Why would they voluntarily mutilate themselves and make up a pair of eyes for me? There’s even a large amount of thick, viscous blood around them, like paste…

“If this is a trap, I already stepped into it just now. I even stood there blankly for several seconds. In a battle between Bizarro Sorcerers, that is a fatal mistake…

“But no matter who it is, the first time they encounter something like this, they would inevitably react in a similar way. A terrifying enemy you spent an entire day carefully planning to deal with suddenly kneels and begs for mercy the moment it sees you, wagging its tail to curry favor. It feels like something out of a dream…

“Their behavior is very similar to Arrodes. Could it be that a ‘great existence above the spirit world’ can truly display something special within the spirit world?”

As thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind, Klein glanced at the two Fog Hounds lying prostrate in the void, wagging their tails, then extended his left hand and caught those two dark-red flames along with the large amount of sticky crimson blood.

The instant he touched them, familiar ravings and roars abruptly sounded beside his ears. Sometimes they were sharp, sometimes deep, sometimes frenzied, sometimes enticing, sometimes insane, and sometimes ethereal.

Immediately afterward, a vast illusory grayish-white fog appeared before his eyes.

The fog spread all around, boundless and endless. Above it, one could vaguely see a towering, majestic palace, as though it were the dwelling place of a deity.

This was a scene Klein knew extremely well, because every time he entered the mysterious space above the gray fog, he would pass through somewhere similar.

At the very beginning, after walking four steps counterclockwise, it had been difficult for him to notice the surrounding conditions. But as he adapted and as his Sequence advanced, he could now seize the opportunity rather easily to make certain observations.

Yet at this very moment, Klein had not whispered names such as “The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings,” nor had he taken four counterclockwise steps.

This put Klein on extreme alert. Then he saw several figures appear indistinctly within the boundless gray fog. They overlapped with the fog at times and separated from it at others. All of them were Fog Hounds, dark-red flames burning in their eyes, their bodies covered in short black fur.

The two Fog Hounds that had each lost one eye returned to their companions’ side and merged into the darker patches within the gray fog.

All the phenomena vanished at once. Floating deep within the spirit world, Klein discovered that there were no longer any Fog Hounds around him. Only his two marionettes remained, along with the peculiar spirit world creatures wandering far away.

…Klein lowered his head and looked at the “eyeballs” and blood in his hand. Feeling their true existence, he confirmed that what he had experienced just now had not been an illusion.

Fog Hounds are also called guardians of Sefirah Castle… They live in the gaps of history within the spirit world… Just now, I saw them active within the gray fog, merging into its darker patches… Combining what I saw and heard, Klein gradually arrived at a bold judgment:

“Perhaps Sefirah Castle refers to the mysterious space above the gray fog, to that strange door of light…

“And perhaps the gray fog is the symbolic object formed by all history interweaving within the spirit world, with gaps existing inside it…

“Every time I pass through the gray fog to enter the mysterious space, I leave behind certain traces there. That made the Fog Hounds no longer unfamiliar with me and led them to regard me as the owner of Sefirah Castle. So, the moment they saw me, they immediately offered the items I needed and wagged their tails, begging for mercy?

“I planned for an entire day, asked about the situation, invited a helper, and the result was that I was plotting against my own guards?”

At that thought, Klein felt an inexplicable absurdity, as though The Fool above the gray fog had stretched out his black hand, hoping to fleece a sheep, only to end up plucking wool from himself.

“Whew… Sefirah Castle… Although this development makes me even more afraid, no matter what, I have finally begun to understand something about the owner of the gray fog and that mysterious space. The unknown is what is truly frightening…” After silently standing deep in the spirit world for a while, Klein slowly breathed out and recalled his two marionettes.

He planned to wait until his Bizarro Sorcerer potion was fully digested before attempting to seek knowledge related to Sefirah Castle from places such as the magic mirror Arrodes. If something unexpected happened then, he could use advancement to resist it.

…

In East Borough, inside a two-bedroom rented apartment.

Forsi, dark circles under her eyes, returned from outside and casually picked up the day’s newspapers and letters.

“How was it?” Xio, who had just returned home for lunch, raised her head and asked.

Forsi lifted a hand to cover her mouth and yawned.

“Not bad. The editor I know was very satisfied with the subject and style of my new book. He decided to arrange serialization as soon as possible.

“You wouldn’t know, but Backlund hospital horror stories have become quite popular recently. A bestselling novelist has already drawn inspiration from them and begun serializing a similar story. I’m actually not among the first batch!”

“…That’s a good thing.” Xio thought for a second, then nodded seriously.

That meant Forsi, who was also writing about Backlund hospital horror stories, would not draw too much attention, and her new pen name would not be tested.

“I know.” Forsi tossed down the newspaper, pulled out several letters from within, and quickly leafed through them.

Soon, she found a reply from her teacher, Dorian Gray Abraham.

Forsi’s expression immediately turned more serious. She swiftly tore open the envelope, unfolded the paper, and began scanning the contents.

“…Benjamin Abraham was an Intisian who lived during Roselle’s era… Aside from mysticism knowledge and a small inheritance, he did not leave behind anything of value… Later, all of that was destroyed by the Aurora Order. I cannot provide the corresponding information…”

Mr. Gehrman Sparrow is going to be disappointed… Forsi pursed her lips. With a small trick, she burned the letter in her hand to ash.

Then she began writing a reply, asking her teacher whether he knew of any secret ruins belonging to the Blood Emperor, Alista Tudor.

…

The Benjamin Abraham lead has gone cold… It’s all the fault of those lunatics from the Aurora Order… Klein arrived above the gray fog and listened to Miss Magician’s prayer.

At the same time, he learned that the Backlund hospital horror story had begun serialization.

After returning to the real world, Klein was about to go out for a meal when he suddenly saw Miss Messenger carrying four heads as she walked out from the void, one of the mouths biting a letter.

“Who sent it?” Klein asked, rather puzzled.

Reinette Tinekerr’s remaining three heads answered one after another:

“The seduced…” “fool…”

Who is that… Klein grew even more bewildered. He took the letter, opened it, and glanced at it.

“The true culprit behind those matters is George III. His goal is to become the Black Emperor. Are you interested in sabotaging this matter?

“Trissy.”

Trissy? This witch actually dares to write to me? Isn’t she afraid Miss Messenger will catch her on the spot? Right, Miss Messenger just said the sender was “the seduced fool”… Trissy must have seduced a man and had him summon the messenger for her, while she hid far away and waited for him to contact her through a mirror. She’s still rather smart… Mm, she really is persistent in pursuing this matter. Is she not afraid of being killed by me or by George III? That man is probably a Beyonder. It would be very difficult for an ordinary person to hold a messenger-summoning ritual, since it mainly relies on one’s own spirit and spirituality… Klein was first astonished, then enlightened.

Immediately after, he began wondering how Trissy had guessed that George III wanted to become the Black Emperor.

Without sufficient mysticism knowledge, without knowing the Black Emperor’s apotheosis ritual, without understanding the corresponding history, even a demigod would find it hard to deduce. It was definitely not as easy as the Red Angel evil spirit had made it sound!

Could Trissy have another helper? Or has she obtained more power from the Primordial Demoness, including all kinds of knowledge and secrets? Klein’s brows furrowed slightly. He increasingly felt that there were no small problems on that side.

If there was a chance, he would definitely eliminate the witch Trissy.

After thinking for more than ten seconds, he took paper and pen from his clothes pocket and rapidly wrote a reply:

“I have some interest, but I do not know what you intend to do.”

…

In the Backlund Bridge area, a man in his thirties watched in terror as the headless—no, four-headed—banshee who had appeared not long ago manifested before him and dropped a letter.

“Are all messengers in the mysticism world this terrifying?” Only nearly five minutes after Reinette Tinekerr left did the man finally draw a breath, pick up the letter, and open it to glance inside.

During this process, his gaze gradually became fervent, because he would soon be able to meet that dreamlike beauty again.

Following her instructions, he waited until evening before taking out a lump of black paste-like matter, separating a small amount, and evenly smearing it over a mirror.

Several seconds later, the mirror turned dim and dark, as though it were connected to another world.

In the blink of an eye, the mirror reflected a room completely different from his current surroundings. Inside stood a gentle, pure young lady wearing a deep black dress. It was none other than the witch Trissy.

The man who had completed the ritual immediately revealed a hint of infatuation, his voice unconsciously softening.

“The reply says he has some interest.”

The shallow dimples on Trissy’s cheeks slowly bloomed, making both inside and outside the mirror seem to brighten a little.

Her brows relaxed as she said, “I will send you another letter. Hand it to Gehrman Sparrow. You absolutely must not read its contents.”

After receiving the man’s unhesitating promise, Trissy extended her right hand and wiped the mirror’s surface, causing that dark, watery light to vanish.

She then found paper and pen, considered for a few seconds, and swiftly wrote:

“The secret mausoleums needed for George III’s ritual should originate from the Blood Emperor, Alista Tudor. There is an existence who understands them extremely well and may be able to help us smoothly infiltrate and cause damage during the ritual.

“I have a way to contact that existence, but it must wait until the next full moon. What you need to do is provide me with some blood, hair, flesh, or bones from a descendant of the Abraham family.

“Trissy.”