Chapter 51: The Art of Communication

Chapter 51: The Art of Communication

When he heard the illusory, layered voice of prayer, Klein was attending a dinner at Portland Moment’s home. Because of the time difference, the evening here was still underway.

A dinner like this began at half past seven and could last all the way until half past nine, or even ten. Appetizers, soup, side dishes, main courses, staple foods, vegetables, fruits, desserts, and so on added up to more than a dozen—sometimes nearly twenty—separate courses. Footmen would serve them one after another in strict order, removing and replacing plates uniformly so the dining table never became messy. Between courses, guests were left time to converse, and gentlemen were expected to take the initiative to speak with the lady seated to their right.

In short, it was extremely troublesome and exhausting. One even had to pay attention to which wine went with which dish… Fortunately, the taste is fairly good…

Seizing the moment when the roasted tender lamb was being cleared away, Klein turned to Madam Willis on his right and said, “My apologies. I must visit the washroom.”

He then stood, pressed his right hand over his chest and abdomen, bowed slightly to the other guests, and left the dining table, heading toward one of the washrooms on the second floor.

After entering, he locked the door behind him and immediately took four steps counterclockwise, arriving above the gray fog.

“…Mr. Hanged Man’s prayer. He hopes I can help him obtain the Obninsk sea monster’s goodwill. In return, he is willing to collect fifteen pages of Roselle’s diary or do something of equivalent value for me… His progress is not slow…” Sitting in the Fool’s seat, Klein spread his spirituality outward and touched the crimson star that was swelling and contracting.

After several seconds of consideration, he said, “Investigate every Feysac colonel who participated in the Konoto Sea Battle in 1338.”

As a historical expert, the moment he learned from the Interrogator’s spirit that the man had died at sea in 1338 at the hands of Feysacians, Klein had already worked out which battle this corresponded to.

Throughout the entire year of 1338, tensions and skirmishes between Loen and Feysac had continued, but only one battle had involved the deaths of officers at the field-grade level: the naval battle that had broken out at Konoto in East Balam.

And in a Feysac fleet, there could not possibly be too many colonels!

…

In the dark, deep seawater, Alger Wilson saw the boundless gray-white fog and heard Mr. Fool’s response.

Investigate every colonel of the Feysac Empire who participated in the Konoto Sea Battle in 1338… Why would Mr. Fool be concerned with minor figures like that? Does this involve some enormous secret?

Alger’s heart stirred. No longer hesitating, he directly accepted.

“Your will is my will.”

This task would be difficult and complicated for him, but not especially dangerous. It was the kind he could currently bear.

After responding, Alger once again heard Mr. Fool’s deep voice:

“You may return to the vicinity of the target.”

It is solved already? As expected of Mr. Fool! After obtaining authority, He is more like a Sea God than Kalvetua. His divine might is no longer limited to the Rorsted Archipelago!

Alger felt a burst of delight. He thanked Him solemnly, then bent at the waist, extended his feet, turned downward, and dove once more.

After only a few minutes, he returned to the undersea volcano. He saw that around the enormous, pitch-black cavern, the water currents remained chaotic, and the tentacles were still spread wide, not yet calm.

Although Alger believed that Mr. Fool was powerful and terrifying enough—a recovering ancient god—when he saw this scene, he instinctively grew cautious and carefully approached.

His first suspicion was that the Obninsk’s countless waving tentacles were welcoming him.

At that moment, above the gray fog, Klein, holding the Sea God Scepter, furrowed his brows.

“It refuses to…