Chapter 152: A Destined Encounter

Chapter 152: A Destined Encounter

The Loen military demigod with golden eyes nodded in agreement.

“That is indeed the case. It resembles the style of certain fellows from the Intis intelligence agencies.

“However, only a few seconds passed between him taking the soil and Tutanthis II’s mummy disappearing. He should not have had time to complete a ritual.”

The woman in the evening gown lowered her head and glanced at the thorn crown inserted into her neck. Her reaction was somewhat sluggish as she said, “Perhaps he—or they—had already completed the other steps of the ritual. The moment he Teleported back, he immediately threw that clump of soil into the altar and completed the final step.

“Of course, it may not necessarily have been a ritual. It could also have been a sealed artifact capable of achieving some effect through bodily fluids. There are far too many possibilities in this area.”

Although the main effects and negative effects of sealed artifacts generally followed the sequence traits of the twenty-two pathways, and researchers could barely make certain guesses, sealed artifacts were like people with different personalities. Depending on what they had merged with, the environment in which they formed, the aura of a possible higher-level being, or the curse of their original owner, they each possessed all kinds of strange and peculiar traits. Without actual testing, no one could anticipate and list them all in advance.

The golden-eyed demigod pulled out a chair, sat down, and said, “This direction is very difficult to investigate. We can temporarily set it aside. However, you missed another investigative angle just now.

“Do you still remember that tornado? It lifted Tutanthis II’s coffin, causing the ritual materials inside—his bodily fluids—to leak out, and making the mummy roll out, thereby obtaining the condition to turn into a living corpse. In short, it laid the foundation for the later developments. Therefore, we can completely confirm that this was done by that mysterious person or by his helper.”

The scattered look in the evening-gowned woman’s eyes faded slightly. She slowly removed the thorn crown and said, “You mean that the Church of Storms controls the high-Sequence formulas and most of the Beyonder characteristics of the Sailor pathway. Beyonders or mystical items outside of them capable of creating a tornado will not be many. We can pursue this line?”

The golden-eyed demigod nodded.

“And I remember that not long ago, a case occurred in the East Borough. Mr. X of the Aurora Order was killed directly inside the gathering he had convened. At the scene, Lightning Storm and Tornado were both used.

“This drew great attention from the Church of Storms, which has been searching for clues ever since.

“In the same district, two tornadoes not belonging to official organizations have appeared within a short period of time. That cannot be coincidence. I believe we can preliminarily confirm that there is an internal connection. The people who killed Mr. X and the people who stole the mummy are very likely the same group. We need to investigate jointly with the Church of Storms.”

The woman in the evening gown set down the thorn crown, thought for a moment, and said, “That is a very good direction.

“Also, from their purpose and motives, we can analyze some circumstances. Someone who simply wants the mummy as living corpse material would not take such an enormous risk to steal it. I suspect that, to that group, Tutanthis II’s mummy carries additional and important meaning.”

“A key to a ritual?” the golden-eyed demigod said after weighing his words. “Judging from the situation at the scene, the person holding the special item and attracting the mummy to chase her should have been a Wraith, or had a corresponding mystical item. Combining that with their purpose and motives, I have one guess…”

The woman in the evening gown’s heart stirred, and she blurted out, “The Temperance faction defectors within the Rose School of Thought?”

“Correct.” The golden-eyed demigod nodded lightly. “Although the production of mummies was affected by various factors such as Death worship and Sun worship, after the Rose School of Thought occupied the Highlands, valleys, and other places, they did not prohibit this burial custom. This is enough to show that mummies should have some use to them. Perhaps they are required for the ritual of a certain Sequence.”

At this point, he gave a low laugh full of self-mockery.

“There is also another possibility: showing off and performing.

“That group may not truly have wanted the mummy. Perhaps it simply happened to satisfy the conditions and provided an opportunity to steal it, so they put on a grand performance. For certain Sequences of certain pathways, this is the key to digesting a potion.”

As a half-human, half-god existence, he had indeed seen no few things, so he naturally thought of more possibilities.

The woman in the evening gown considered it briefly and said in a low voice, “I suspect it is not a single possibility, but a mixture of multiple factors.

“We will investigate on this basis.”

…

Backlund, Cherwood Borough, near the Tussock River.

The Silent One, Mahmos, sat before a square table covered with a tablecloth, looking at the golden nails laid out upon it. In a deep voice, he spoke.

“Zatwen, who do you think stole that Kardev mummy?”

Not far behind him, atop a piano stool, a figure swiftly outlined itself.

This figure wore black clerical robes. A black glove covered his left palm. His face was thin; his skin was brownish; his eye sockets were sunken as though he were a dried corpse. His beard and whiskers were black at the roots and white outward, spreading from both sides of his mouth all the way to his ears. However, they were neither dense nor long. They appeared as scattered specks.

Zatwen’s eyes were close in color to his skin, light brown. He clearly possessed the bearing of a priest, yet he also gave off a sinister, terrifying feeling, as though he might go mad in silence.

After thinking briefly, he said, “Those who desire the Kardev mummy and are willing to take risks during a demigod battle can be counted on one hand. Among them, the only one hiding in Backlund is Sharron.

“She must have received Reinette Tinekerr’s help. Otherwise, success would have been impossible.”

Mahmos picked up a golden nail covered in dense patterns and fell silent for a few seconds.

“Who was the one skilled at Teleportation?

“It does not seem like Gehrman Sparrow… Another helper Sharron invited?”

“Perhaps.” Zatwen coughed twice. His face was pale with a bluish tint. “I think we still need to find a way to pray to the Mother Tree. We should be able to obtain certain revelations that way.”

Mahmos nodded lightly and pierced his mouth with the golden nail in his hand, driving it through both upper and lower lips.

Seeing this, Zatwen covered his mouth and slowly rose. With some difficulty, he went down to the first floor, preparing to leave and return to his hiding place.

On the first floor, he saw the dim environment and the flickering candlelight, while the fragrance of food drifted from every direction, filling the air. The houses on the nearby streets were all row houses. Their ground floors facing the street were shops. This Rose School of Thought contact point was, on the surface, a restaurant specializing in Southern Continent cuisine.

Because he had not been lightly injured during the previous operation, Zatwen did not especially want to maintain an evil-spirit state the entire time. That was a rather heavy burden on him in his current state. Therefore, wearing black clerical robes, he could only walk step by step toward the door.

Just then, a customer entered the restaurant.

This customer wore a black formal suit, black trousers, and black leather shoes. He had a pair of black eyes and a thin face.

His forehead was rather broad. He wore a monocle and a very tall top hat. As his gaze swept around casually, it landed on Zatwen.

After glancing at the black glove on Zatwen’s left palm, the customer hooked the corner of his mouth by a very small degree, smiled, and shook his head, as though somewhat disappointed.

Then he entered the restaurant and brushed past Zatwen, who met his gaze with eyes full of malice.

Zatwen did not pay much attention to him. He walked outside and arrived on the street.

Under the illumination of gas streetlamps, the cool night wind blew over. This Rose School of Thought demigod suddenly shivered.

Zatwen knew this was the manifestation of his spiritual intuition being stirred. His heart tightened, and he hurriedly lowered his head to look at his own hands. Astonished, he discovered that the black glove on his left palm was gone!

Gone!

As a half-human, half-god existence, Zatwen had no idea when the sealed artifact worn on his hand had disappeared!

He abruptly turned around and looked back into the restaurant. In his mind, the image of that man from just now suddenly surfaced.

Very quickly, he locked onto the target’s aura and discovered that the other party was still inside the restaurant, even calling over a waiter and asking for a menu.

Zatwen initially wanted to directly use Mirror Blink and possess him. Yet for some unknown reason, his hands trembled on their own. Vaguely, he felt that around him were hidden dangerous, terrifying, and hard-to-detect enemies, one after another.

Thoughts streaked through his mind like lightning. Zatwen subconsciously took a step to the side and walked toward the end of the street, as if nothing had happened at all.

…

Cherwood Borough, inside a house.

Fors was flipping through the latest issue of Ladies’ Aesthetic when she suddenly heard the sound of a key turning and the front door opening.

“You’re back this late today?” She raised her head and glanced toward the door, where Xio stood.

Xio rubbed her short blond hair and said, “When I was about to come back, I saw MI9’s meeting symbol. It was urgent.”

“What is it this time?” Fors put down the magazine in her hand with great interest.

“A continuation of the previous Mr. X murder case.” Xio bent down to change into her house slippers as she spoke casually.

Fors’s expression froze. Her eyes shifted faintly.

“Did they find a clue?”

“It cannot be called a clue. Uh, during the incident back then, a demigod-level Tornado appeared at the scene. That is not common outside the Church of Storms. Earlier tonight, a pier in Pritz Harbor was also attacked by a small-range Tornado, and a pharaoh mummy was stolen amid the chaos because of it.” Xio gave a simple explanation. “MI9 suspects the two matters were done by the same group, so they urged informants like us to work harder collecting intelligence and searching for clues.”

…There is still a Tornado in my Leymano’s Travels… Mr. Gehrman Sparrow? Why would he steal a pharaoh mummy…

Fors forced a smile.

“Maybe the Church of Storms did it?”

Xio rolled her eyes at her, then strode into the kitchen in search of food.

…

At dawn, 160 Böklund Street.

Klein had just finished washing up and had not yet opened the door for his personal valet Richardson to enter when his spiritual intuition was stirred. He saw Miss Messenger’s headless body carrying four heads as she walked out from the void.

One of the heads bit a rather thick envelope, while another opened its mouth and spat out a large pile of gold coins with a clatter.

Finally, the debt is about to be paid off…

Klein glanced at the half-necks below the four heads of Reinette Tinekerr, unconnected to any body, and breathed out in relief.

“I remember I still owe you 3,413 gold coins. You may take this final part of the debt now.”

At the same time, he inexplicably felt that the pile of gold coins looked a little familiar. However, he did not pay much attention to it, because all gold coins looked familiar to him.