Chapter 210: The Wind Rises

Chapter 210: The Wind Rises

“Yes, a little over a month ago.” Allen pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, giving a definite answer.

A little over a month ago? Wasn’t that exactly when you were being troubled by nightmares related to Will Auceptin? Klein was both shocked and puzzled, but he did not let his emotions show on his face.

In an instant, he thought of the two divinations he had performed.

Will Auceptin was inside a dark room, and outside came the rushing sound of flowing water.

Could that have represented amniotic fluid or blood? Klein’s heart tightened, and he suddenly felt enlightened.

When he looked at Dr. Allen again, his gaze had already become rather complicated.

He suspected that Allen’s wife was pregnant with Will Auceptin, a Mercury Snake!

In the symbolic language of mysticism, the Mercury Snake formed a circle head to tail, devouring its own tail. It vaguely implied the cycle of fate… In order to avoid his enemy, did Will Auceptin actively, prematurely, and secretly begin a new cycle? Klein formed his guess based on the knowledge he currently possessed.

Dr. Allen was completely unaware of the abnormality Klein was struggling to conceal. Smiling, he said, “He will definitely be a lovable little fellow. When he is born, I’ll hold a banquet to celebrate his arrival. Sherlock, when that happens, you must not refuse my invitation.”

“Perhaps it will be a she,” Klein replied with a smile.

Frankly speaking, he was somewhat curious and wanted to see what state the newborn Mercury Snake would be in.

However, he was also a little afraid and worried. After all, a Mercury Snake was Sequence 1 of the Monster pathway of fate, and was also involved in the struggle for a god’s throne. No one could be certain that the road ahead would be smooth, stable, and happy.

For Dr. Allen, who knows whether this is fortune or misfortune… Whether Will Auceptin is kind is one matter, while whether the other Mercury Snake will discover him is another… And Will Auceptin hasn’t done anything for now. Reporting him to the Nighthawks seems a little cruel. I have always been able to understand wild Beyonders… Quietly watching things develop, without interfering or exploiting it, is the best choice… Perhaps I interpreted it wrongly and am overthinking it. Perhaps Will Auceptin isn’t a Mercury Snake at all! Perhaps Dr. Allen’s wife’s child is perfectly normal! Thoughts flashed through Klein’s mind one after another.

“A she? That would be even better.” Allen sounded rather expectant.

Klein thought for a moment, then asked one more question.

“Have you had any nightmares recently?”

“Occasionally, but they’re normal nightmares now. Will Auceptin no longer appears. Sherlock, thank you for your guidance,” Allen said sincerely.

No, no, no. That is precisely what’s abnormal. As a keyboard expert, the limited psychology I know tells me that occasionally dreaming of Will Auceptin afterward would be normal. That would be the standard reaction after being stimulated. Since he caused you such great distress and left such a deep impression, he should definitely be reflected in your dreams. The correct change would be that you occasionally still dream of Will Auceptin, but the dream is no longer very clear, and perhaps you even forget the specific details the moment you wake up, only knowing that it happened… Klein became even more certain.

Just then, he heard a howling sound.

He instinctively looked outside the lobby and saw the gloom in midair swept apart by a fierce wind. The thin, pale-yellow fog was cleared away with it.

The leafless branches swayed wildly. The gale dragged out a visible trail and rushed straight toward the southeast.

A few seconds later, everything returned to normal, calm as before.

“It’s rare to see such a strong wind in Backlund’s winter. At least I have no memory of it.” Allen also looked outside the window and remarked with emotion.

That wasn’t normal wind… What happened? Klein suppressed his doubts and found an excuse to go to the washroom, where he performed an ordinary divination. He received no useful revelation.

For the time being, he put the matter to the back of his mind and prepared to practice shooting at the underground target range.

At that moment, however, a waiter in a red vest passed through the spring-warm lobby and came to his side, saying respectfully, “Mr. Moriarty, your friend is looking for you.”

“Who?” Klein asked, somewhat astonished.

“Mr. Ikanser Bernard,” the red-vested waiter answered.

That deacon who often gets passively “haircut”… Why did he suddenly come looking for me? Has there been a new discovery? Klein immediately walked to the club’s reception hall.

Ikanser pressed down on his hat, which had been lifted by his fluffy hair, and came forward. Lowering his voice, he said, “The Mandated Punishers have found Patrick Jason Beria.”

“How did they find him?” Klein asked, half surprised and half curious.

According to the revelation he had obtained through divination, Jason Beria had always been wearing a human skin. His true appearance and aura were not the ones that had been determined, making it nearly impossible for him to be found so easily!

Ikanser looked around and said, “I’m not sure. I only just received the news.”

He pointed to a small white bird perched on a tree outside the door.

The bird was leisurely preening its feathers with its beak.

Without waiting for Klein to ask further, Ikanser roughly described what had happened.

“The Mandated Punishers found clues and confirmed Jason’s whereabouts, but that Demon sensed the danger ahead of time. Before the encirclement could close, he forcibly killed two Mandated Punishers and escaped. This has enraged the higher-ups of the Church of Storms. Ace Snake, the ‘Singer of God,’ personally began pursuit. You should have seen that burst of wind just now. He caused it. He is the archbishop of the Church of Storms in the Backlund diocese, and also one of the cardinals of the entire Church of Storms.”

It sounds normal, but it feels strange… According to Mr. Isengard’s and my guess, this can also be interpreted as Jason, the Apostle of Desire, luring away a High-Sequence powerhouse… Klein considered his words and asked, “Is it certain that the one discovered was Jason Beria?”

Ikanser’s expression instantly turned grave, his tone becoming rather strange.

“I’ll try.”

He gestured for Klein to follow him outside and boarded a spacious carriage parked by the street. Two other Machinery Hivemind members were inside.

Ikanser inhaled, then took out the ancient silver mirror with bewitching patterns from a specially made inner pocket of his clothes.

After completing the preliminary steps, he said with a dark expression, “Honorable Arrodes, my question is: what is Patrick Jason Beria’s current location?”

The surrounding light suddenly distorted, as though it were lamplight after rain, while a scene swiftly appeared within the silver mirror.

It was an inland riverboat with its sails raised. Jason Beria, with high cheekbones, blue-gray eyes, and neatly combed-back hair, pressed down his flat cap and turned up the collar of his coat. In a hurried, furtive manner, he entered the cabin.

“He really is trying to flee Backlund! The Singer of God seems to be headed toward the dock area as well…” a female Machinery Hivemind member said in sudden understanding.

He was exposed far too easily… Klein remained full of doubt.

Ikanser paid no attention to those things. All his attention was fixed on the surface of the silver mirror.

This time, there was only the option of answering the question. A wrong answer or lie would incur a terrifying punishment.

Before long, blood-red words appeared on the mirror’s surface:

“If the man you like were covered head to toe in lumps, or if he shed his skin and only flesh remained, or if he turned into a monster but could still communicate, would you still like him?”

What an embarrassing question… Wait, a man? Klein nearly turned his head to look at Ikanser.

Ikanser slowly exhaled and said, “Yes, but I would personally kill him.”

“Very honest,” new words appeared on the mirror.

…This question-and-answer game is basically public execution… Klein dearly wanted to cover his face.

He looked at the two other Machinery Hivemind members, whose expressions showed no abnormality—or rather, who were pretending that there was nothing abnormal—and hesitated before saying, “I keep feeling it was too easy. Perhaps that isn’t the real Jason Beria?”

“But Jason Beria points to him.” Ikanser prepared to put away the silver mirror.

Klein thought for several seconds and organized his words.

“No, what I truly mean is that we must abandon some of our established judgments. The one we are searching for is the Apostle of Desire, not Jason Beria. The two may not be completely equivalent.

“As a detective, this is a point I must raise.”

…

On King’s Avenue, a luxurious carriage left the kingdom’s parliament.

The carriage was carpeted and equipped with a daybed, sofas, a table, and other furniture, just like a moving room.

Pallas Negan, the Duke of Negan of this generation, wore a deep-blue admiral’s uniform. He was holding a crystal goblet and drinking Olmir wine, red as blood.

As he savored the wine, he said thoughtfully, “Invite Earl Hall to visit tomorrow. I want to discuss raising factory workers’ wages, improving their working hours, and revising the Poor Laws with him. Those are all bills he has been strongly pushing lately. He should be very interested. Heh, why has the Church of Evernight suddenly become concerned with such things?

“When you send the invitation, you may first disclose to Earl Hall what I wish to discuss. Property restrictions for elections are necessary and must not be loosened. Otherwise, those fellows who drive large numbers of workers will inevitably occupy more seats. Also, suppress the recent attacks on rotten boroughs…”

Beside him, his secretary rapidly recorded the duke’s instructions with a rustling sound.

After finishing, Duke Negan sighed and said, “I am doing this for the sake of the nobility’s position as well. But more and more of us are becoming useless. Quite a few even owe money to those wealthy upstarts.”

At that moment, the carriage did not turn toward Queen Borough but continued straight ahead.

As the greatest land noble apart from the king, Duke Negan had quite a few mistresses. However, in the relatively conservative Loen Kingdom, this was something political enemies could easily use against him. Therefore, even as a duke, when visiting his mistresses, he had to do so furtively. Yet that seemed to bring him even greater pleasure.

Today, he was going to visit the mistress he had favored most over the past two or three years: a young woman who had only just turned twenty.

Taking out a potion made from mummy corpse powder and drinking it, Duke Negan could not help touching the ornament hanging around his neck. It was a deep-blue conch the size of a thumb.

It was a mystical item specially provided by the Church of Storms after the last assassination attempt by Qilangos. As long as Duke Negan blew it, the Singer of God, Ace Snake, inside the Cathedral of the Holy Wind, would hear it and lock onto his location.

To protect himself, Duke Negan had even moved the residences of several mistresses to Cherwood Borough, placing them not far from the Cathedral of the Holy Wind.

The carriage moved slowly and arrived before an extremely luxurious house. At a glance, one could see a glass greenhouse in the garden, filled with blooming crimson roses.