Chapter 180: The Artisan’s Origins

Chapter 180: The Artisan’s Origins

Cattleya understood the Hanged Man’s meaning: if the problem was great, they could use the Moon to pull the entire Sanguine race into this matter, then recover losses and seize benefits amid the chaos.

She smiled and said, “If matters become serious to that extent, why not directly find the World? That would seem simpler.”

Alger was silent for several seconds.

“I must prove that I have the ability to handle problems. Therefore, that is the final option.”

Hearing his answer, Admiral of Stars Cattleya immediately formed certain associations.

The Hanged Man cares greatly about the World Gehrman Sparrow’s view of him. Is that because the latter is Mr. Fool’s Blessed? Also, his attitude is quite consistent in some sense with the political jokes popular in places like Backlund and Trier: when encountering a problem or making a mistake, the first reaction is to suppress it and find another way to solve it. One cannot let one’s “superior” or “client” know…

This indicates that the Hanged Man once belonged, and perhaps still belongs, to a large, tightly organized power. He has been affected by such tendencies and has grasped the corresponding skills… The Church of Storms? No. Someone like him would be a heretic inside it… King of the Five Seas’ fleet?

As thoughts rose and fell, this pirate admiral pushed up the heavy glasses on the bridge of her nose and guided the topic back on track.

“Continue telling me about that Artisan.”

As though he had prepared a draft long ago, Alger spoke without reflection or pause, his speed neither fast nor slow:

“In the past, in order to conceal that Artisan’s identity and prevent this channel from being grasped by others, I deliberately shaped him into an internal member of the Church of Steam. In reality, because he loved famous wines, indulged in women, and spent money extravagantly, he had no choice but to make items for wild Beyonders to earn money and maintain his lifestyle. He defected from the Church of Steam long ago and hid in Bayam.

“This time, first, he strangely fell ill and was monitored by people of unknown origin. After that, he was controlled by those suspected of believing in the Primordial Moon and claimed that he had obtained new life…”

Cattleya listened attentively, her faintly purple eyes behind the lenses extremely focused.

When the Hanged Man finished, she thought for a moment and asked, “An Artisan will absolutely not lack mystical items. Furthermore, they understand very well how to combine different Beyonder effects and negative influences. His strength should certainly be able to reach the level of Sequence 5.

“What method did those Primordial Moon believers use to control him without harming him?

“Was a demigod involved?”

Alger slowly shook his head.

“There are currently no clues in that regard. But according to my observations, that Artisan displayed a certain element of willingness. I suspect that while threats and coercion existed, there was also temptation aimed at his weaknesses.”

He indirectly denied the guess that a demigod had participated.

Admiral of Stars Cattleya nodded.

“How did those Primordial Moon believers find this Artisan?

“According to your description, this Artisan has always only traded with familiar, trustworthy friends. He does not especially like expanding his channels. In terms of safety, he can be considered very cautious.”

Alger hesitated briefly.

“I am not entirely certain, but I have a guess.

“I once helped the World sell a Werewolf Beyonder characteristic to that Artisan. The Werewolf pathway belongs to the Mutant pathway. Whether formulas or characteristics, they are firmly controlled by the Rose School of Thought and rarely flow outside.”

Likewise, those who believe in the Primordial Moon on the Southern Continent basically belong to the Rose School of Thought…

Cattleya silently supplied the additional line in her heart and had already understood what the Hanged Man’s guess was:

He suspected that the Werewolf Beyonder characteristic had some hidden problem involving a concealed existence, causing the Artisan to be targeted by the Rose School of Thought!

And this was also the reason the Rose School of Thought could firmly control the formulas and characteristics of the Mutant pathway.

Admiral of Stars Cattleya asked a few more questions and received satisfactory answers to each. Finally, she asked, “What is that Artisan’s name, and which country is he from?”

“He is Intisian. He calls himself Shalf,” Alger answered without the slightest wordiness.

“Shalf…”

Cattleya’s brows furrowed slightly as she repeated the Artisan’s name in a low voice.

Is there something wrong with that?

Seeing this, Alger asked directly, “Have you heard of him?”

In Alger’s view, Admiral of Stars was an experienced, deeply backed, and self-controlled powerhouse. If she did not wish to discuss something about Shalf, then even if she had doubts or noticed abnormalities, she would not show them so obviously. Based on that judgment, he chose to ask without any hesitation.

Cattleya was silent for a moment before saying, “Emperor Roselle’s eldest son was named Charles, which is very close to this name.”

Without waiting for the Hanged Man to speak, she continued on her own.

“This prince died of fear and worry not long after the Emperor was assassinated. At that time, the Sauron family hoped to hang and exile his descendants, but the Church of Steam chose to accept them as clergy.”

Alger came to a realization and nodded slightly.

“You suspect he is that prince’s descendant?”

In Intis, Feysac, and most countries of the Northern Continent, using an ancestor’s name or a similar name as one’s own name was not especially rare. It represented the inheritance of glory. Therefore, the more prominent a family was, the more one saw certain names followed by “the Second” or “the Third.”

Of course, two completely unrelated people sharing the same name was also very common. But Artisan Shalf did not merely have that name. He had also come from the Church of Steam, he was Intisian, and he had reached the level of an Artisan.

Facing the Hanged Man’s question, Admiral of Stars Cattleya nodded lightly.

“If we can obtain his blood, I can confirm it very quickly.”

Alger understood why. He did not say more and instead asked, “Will you act now? I can provide support.”

Cattleya’s lenses reflected the crimson moonlight coming in through the window.

“No. I plan to observe for a while longer.

“At the very least, we must figure out why those Primordial Moon believers are controlling Artisan Shalf.

“If they merely want the Artisan to serve them and make mystical items for them, then the matter is very simple and easy. But if they have some other objective, the problem may be more complicated than we imagine, and more preparations will be required.”

As expected of Admiral of Stars…

Alger nodded.

“I cannot stay in Bayam too long. It will arouse suspicion. If you need my assistance, do so as soon as possible.”

After receiving the other party’s affirmation, the Hanged Man slowly rose, tugged his hood lower, and withdrew from the room.

Cattleya, already aware of Artisan Shalf’s current residence, removed the heavy glasses, pinched her forehead, and clapped her hands.

“Heath, come in.”

Within the shadows at the crack of the door, darkness suddenly surged, growing into a tall, thin, pale figure.

His nose bridge was exaggeratedly high, and the skin of his face was almost transparent. He looked sickly. It was precisely the second mate of the Future, Rose Bishop Heath Doyle.

Cattleya looked at him.

“The specific situation is…

“I leave what follows to you.”

“Yes, Captain.” Heath Doyle gave a simple response, then shrank back into the shadows.

Cattleya lifted her right hand, paused for several seconds, then said, “Recently—recently keep away from Frank. His mushroom experiments have reached a standstill. I worry he might come up with some new idea again.”

…

“The location of my second marionette…”

Klein held two branches, repeatedly murmuring the words, yet saw no sign of them turning.

This meant that the divination had failed, or that Gurain did not have a second marionette especially suitable for him.

The mysticism method seems temporarily useless. I will tidy things up tomorrow, then leave this place…

Klein muttered, casually tossing the branches into the trash can.

Beside him, marionette Enzo stood in attendance. Although he did not dare look directly at his master and could only gaze at the floor, he still skillfully brewed a cup of black tea and handed it toward Klein.

Compared to before, this Winner had already been sunburned red and peeling on the surface. Once that recovered, he would possess dark skin.

—In order to disguise his new marionette and keep him from being recognized by members of the Rose School of Thought, Klein had brought this gentleman to “Travel” to the seashore beneath the harsh sun, exposing him to it for a long period of time.

At the same time, he manipulated the marionette to shave off most of his hair, leaving only a thin layer. Paired with eyebrow alteration, powder piled onto the face, reconstructed highlights and shadows, and a pair of sunglasses, Enzo appeared to have become a different person. Even a very familiar friend would find it difficult to distinguish him, unless that friend happened to be a Faceless.

In addition to disguise in reality, Klein had also performed mysticism-based handling. First, there was the embrace of a Paper Angel. Second, there was carrying Azik’s copper whistle.

Furthermore, he had preliminarily confirmed that the Winner’s passive luck and calamity were ineffective, though he did not know whether that was because the man had become a marionette or because of the gray fog.

Taking the black tea and drinking a mouthful, Klein cast his gaze toward the Balam map on the tea table before him, considering where he should go next to search for a second marionette.

At that moment, all the colors around him suddenly deepened, as though a painter had redrawn them with heavy oils.

Immediately afterward, a figure outlined itself beside marionette Enzo.

He wore a silk top hat and black formalwear. He was of medium build, with bronze skin, weathered eyes, gentle features, and a tiny black mole beneath his right ear. It was precisely Azik Eggers.

Mr. Azik finally came…

Klein was first pleasantly surprised. Then he noticed that the other party had appeared beside the marionette.

This made an amusing image involuntarily surface inside his mind:

Relying on the copper whistle to locate his target, Mr. Azik arrived exactly like last time. The instant he appeared, he grabbed the shoulder of the copper whistle’s bearer and, through the spirit world, shuttled away. Meanwhile, Klein could only watch helplessly. Even when he wanted to reach out and stop it, he was still half a beat too slow, frozen with his hand raised in front of him.

Compared to last time, Azik seemed slightly more silent. He glanced at Klein’s once-again-new face and asked, “Have you made your preparations?”