Chapter 68: Growth, Each in Their Own Way

Chapter 68: Growth, Each in Their Own Way

“All right.” Emlyn agreed very calmly.

Maric said nothing more and abruptly vanished.

He knew that the specific action plan could not possibly be settled all at once, and that Emlyn White also had to first return and ask the Sanguine higher-ups for their opinion. Therefore, he did not stay.

Perhaps this will be my chance to obtain divinity and become a count… Emlyn wore a smile as he watched Maric, this Wraith, silently leave.

He had not yet digested the Crimson Scholar Beyonder characteristic. The so-called chance to become a count referred to obtaining a promise of a free ritual, or the corresponding potion formula.

The carriage continued forward and stopped at the entrance to Harvest Church. Emlyn glanced with satisfaction at the gray-white fog in midair, pressed down on his silk top hat, and unhurriedly exited the carriage and passed through the main door.

After changing into a brown clerical robe, he picked up a rag and a bucket of water and seriously began wiping the candlesticks on both sides.

Only after Father Utravsky, who seemed to have grown even taller, finished his morning sermon did Emlyn stop his labor and complain,

“Why did we let Ernest go back?”

“He only requested to be a volunteer for one month,” Father Utravsky answered, showing no irritation whatsoever at Emlyn’s repeated question, which he had asked from time to time during the recent period. The priest appeared very patient.

Thinking of what he had experienced, Emlyn suddenly felt somewhat unbalanced. He could not help muttering again,

“He was forced to volunteer. He did not volunteer willingly. He cannot be the one to decide the time limit. It should be at least half a year!”

Father Utravsky responded with a smile.

“He did quite well. Throughout that month, he worked hard, guided believers, and copied the scriptures. I can clearly feel that he has already come to understand the preciousness of life and the joy of harvest.”

The muscles on Emlyn’s face twitched slightly.

“He is also—no, is he about to become a believer of the Earth Mother?”

“No. I did not intend to force him to convert either,” Father Utravsky gently said. “I merely let him understand the Mother Goddess’s teachings and experience the little details of life. I hope that in the future, when he feels lost, he can remember that there is such a spiritual refuge, a mother’s embrace.”

Emlyn’s lips moved a few times. In the end, he said nothing. He lowered his head and continued wiping.

…

Cherwood Borough, inside a certain house.

Fors sat in a high-backed chair, her gaze somewhat unfocused as she looked at the empty glass bottle on the desk before her.

During the previous period, she had finally digested the Astrologer potion. Today, under Xio’s watch, she had used the Brain of Asman and the ancient wraith’s cursed object to concoct the Scribe potion. Gathering her courage, she had drunk it.

At this moment, she felt her brain rapidly expanding. Gray folds and bulges were increasing madly, while her body gradually turned illusory, breaking down into one cell after another.

Those cells carried halos, as if they formed a “door” surrounding her brain.

Vaguely, Fors once again heard the familiar ravings, but they were extremely distant and extremely indistinct. There was no way to discern specific words. To her, who already had abundant experience, they caused no effect.

After an unknown length of time, Fors finally regained control of her brain and cells and felt the existence of her body.

Almost at the same time, a large amount of knowledge echoed inside her mind, letting her understand how to use the Scribe ability:

The mutated “brain” recreated the Beyonder power used by a target, then drove activated portions of cells to form the corresponding symbols, patterns, and markings, completing storage.

This was “I came, I saw, I recorded,” using the mind as the pen and the spirit body as paper!

At present, I can only record one Beyonder power that carries the influence of divinity. The higher the other party’s Sequence, the greater my chance of failure. Even with Sequence 4, I might not succeed once in a dozen attempts… For Sequence 6 and Sequence 5 Beyonder powers, I can record eight, and their effects are half of the original. For Sequence 7 to Sequence 9, I can record twenty, with effects close to the original… Once the potion is further digested, all aspects will improve… Fors combined the knowledge with her own feelings and silently muttered to herself a few times.

This seemed to overlap with the effects of Leymano’s Travels, but Fors felt that no one would dislike having too many Beyonder powers. In addition, the two complemented each other. After all, she could rent Leymano’s Travels to members of the Tarot Club and receive Beyonder powers as payment, but she could not rent herself out.

“Only at Sequence 6 does an Apprentice truly possess sufficient combat ability!” Fors drew back her thoughts, turned her head, and sighed toward Xio beside her.

She then picked up the paper and pen placed on the other side of the desk and began writing rapidly:

“Dear Teacher:

“I am very happy to tell you that I have finally become a Scribe. I am only one step away from the dream of Traveling…”

Fors had only written a few lines when the corner of her eye saw Xio stand and walk toward the door. She hurriedly called out,

“Hey, aren’t we going to find a good restaurant to celebrate together?”

Xio responded seriously,

“Your spirituality is still leaking quite severely. You need several days of repeated meditation to control it. Uh, you cannot smoke. You cannot drink. You cannot indulge your emotions too much.”

After finishing the instructions, she added,

“I still have a commission to handle. I am very close to saving enough contributions to exchange for the Judge formula.”

“…All right.” Fors spread her hands.

After leaving the house, Xio unlocked the chain and mounted a bicycle specially designed for youths, riding toward Hillston Borough.

According to information she had previously obtained, Viscount Stratford had reserved lunch at a luxurious restaurant there.

After arriving at the restaurant, Xio locked her bicycle to a gas streetlamp post, found a hidden corner, and observed the people coming and going.

After an unknown period, from within the thin mist, a carriage drove over. On it was engraved a coat of arms composed of one flower and two rings.

Xio’s attention instantly concentrated. She watched the carriage stop before the restaurant, watched Viscount Stratford—wearing a white wig and already past forty—step down first, then offer his hand like a gentleman to the passenger behind him.

That passenger was a lady wearing a dark-red cloak.

Xio could not see the lady’s face clearly. She only noticed that the line of the other party’s chin was soft and beautiful, and that her skin was fair.

…

In the North Sonia Sea, aboard the Blue Avenger.

Alger Wilson’s feet left the ground as he floated behind the captain’s cabin window, gazing at the deck outside and at the waves in the distance.

Having already digested part of the Ocean Songster potion, he had reported to the Church of Storms two weeks ago and used the merits he had accumulated in the past to exchange for a Wind-blessed potion, successfully taking it. In other words, according to the official records, his Sequence had already risen to 6. Of course, he now had to digest the Wind-blessed potion again, but that was not difficult.

The greatest problem is still that the signs of digesting the Ocean Songster potion are far too obvious… I should have bought that Sea’s Word cane. Every time I sang, I could have blamed it on the cane… Alger sighed silently, yet did not feel too much regret. After all, even if he had decided to buy it back then, he would not have had enough money.

Moreover, he had already made a preliminary exploration of how to digest the Ocean Songster potion.

In a while, I should be able to obtain the information and confirm who the Feysac navy officer Mr. Fool wants investigated is… Alger withdrew his gaze and half-floated, half-flew back to the desk where a brass sextant was placed.

At that moment, two sailors passed by on the deck while burping from drinking.

“There seem to be sea demons in this stretch of water. At night, we always hear their singing…” one sailor said with some uncertainty.

His companion immediately snorted in laughter.

“How is that possible? How could sea demons’ songs be that unpleasant?

“It must be some sea monster making noise!”

…

In the City of Silver, on a training ground that was not as lively as it was during “daytime.”

A pile of dark-blue ice stood there like a small hill.

Derrick, carrying none of his weapons, stood empty-handed before the ice mountain and prayed devoutly,

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

After reciting the honorific name and stating his request, he glanced at Colin Iliad, the Chief of the six-member council, who was waiting in the distance. Then he walked toward the pile of ice.

With two swords on his back, Colin held a bottle of golden liquid that gave off light and heat. He approached and watched Derrick exert himself, burrowing into the pile of ice and completely burying himself within, leaving not the slightest gap.

Deep, hazy darkness abruptly descended. Even when lightning flashed high above, it could not illuminate this place.

In an instant, indescribable surging appeared in the surroundings, as though one pair of eyes after another had cast their gazes over from the depths of darkness.

Colin Iliad could clearly feel that Derrick had fallen into deep sleep. Even though the ice, which normally would not melt, had frozen his face pale and made his body tremble slightly, he did not wake.

Colin hesitated no longer. He threw forward the bottle of potion. A transparent, wraith-like figure then emerged and wrapped around it.

This figure passed through the dark-blue ice and arrived inside the narrow space Derrick had propped open. It took out the potion and poured it into Derrick’s mouth.

The instant this action was completed, it immediately retreated and left the ice pile.

Swish!

Colin Iliad suddenly drew a straight sword and slashed toward his right rear, cutting out a stream of yellow pus and a monster whose body was rotting and covered in eyes.

No one knew where it had come from!

At that moment, Colin Iliad saw a wheel of blazing light slowly rise from within the pile of dark-blue ice, spreading pure radiance that was different from lightning toward the surroundings. It was warm, bright, and filled with vitality.

It filled Colin’s eyes, like light shining from before the Deep Dark Era.

The Chief of the City of Silver watched with focus and remained motionless for a long time, until another monster emerged from the darkness.

…

Above the gray fog, inside the ancient palace.

“Little Sun has also reached Sequence 5…” Klein breathed out in relief. He withdrew his gaze from the crimson star representing The Sun and cast it toward another.

That one symbolized Miss Justice. During the past month or more, she had completed several missions for the Psychology Alchemists and could now exchange for the Dreamwalker potion formula.

This meant she would once again face Hvin Rambis.