Chapter 002: “Error”

Chapter 002: “Error”

Hearing Klein’s reply, Amon smiled and shook His head. While reaching out to pull open the door, He casually asked, “How did you think of an honorific name like that?”

“It had to be related to myself to some degree, while avoiding being used by others to lock onto me through automatic prayer response. There aren’t many honorific names that satisfy both requirements.” Since it had already been exposed, Klein saw no need to hide it. Besides, he hoped to seize a possible opportunity through this kind of conversation.

At the same time, thoughts raced through his mind as he considered how to save himself:

“I have been deeply parasitized. Any thought unfavorable to Amon will very easily be sensed and detected by Him…

“Today is Saturday. Monday is almost here. If Mr. Fool suddenly cancels the Tarot Gathering without much sign, the other members will inevitably panic, tense up, and grow suspicious. Among them, those who have a way to contact The World will definitely try summoning my messenger and asking the reason. Once Miss Messenger approaches me, she will be able to discover Amon’s existence. Then she can use a Yesterday Once More charm to recover her peak state. With her complete angelic strength, she has no small chance of rescuing me from Amon’s avatar…

“What matters most now is that I endure and ‘live’ through these two days!

“Right. Since Amon cannot currently steal my fate, why did He try to make a peaceful deal earlier? Even if I agreed, He would not dare let me go above the gray fog to give permission. That would mean I had escaped His control and could use Sefirah Castle to effectively purify and counterattack the parasite…

“Could it be that ‘agreeing’ itself is the switch, requiring no further process?

“Amon deliberately omitted that point…

“As expected, He was deceiving me!”

While Klein grasped that thread of dawn and decided to delay for two days as much as possible, Amon’s attention remained fixed on that honorific name no human or angel could have expected.

As He stepped out of the room, He scratched His chin and asked, “Have you provided protection to Backlund’s magic and theatrical performances?”

I protected a Trickmaster… Now that Klein had a plan, he cooperated far more than before and answered simply, “I am a Magician myself, and I have ‘performed’ in Backlund many times.”

Amon, wearing the monocle, nodded.

“Barely valid.”

He then left the hotel room and walked down the stairs all the way to the street. Klein followed behind like a servant, every movement perfectly natural.

After glancing left and right, Amon pinched His monocle and sighed with a smile.

“What a pity.”

“What is a pity?” Klein asked in real confusion.

You already caught me. What do you still need to regret?

Amon pressed the silk top hat on His head and kept that smile from earlier.

“You can guess. If you guess correctly, I can give you a slightly better ending.”

Klein did not believe His promise at all. To avoid being tricked into revealing more secrets, he directly shook his head and said, “I can’t guess.”

“How boring.” Amon gave a brief evaluation, formed His right hand into a fist, and lightly tapped His monocle with it.

From the pedestrians on the street, the trees by the roadside, the sparrows on rooftops, the rats in muddy corners, and all kinds of invisible organisms in the air, illusory worm-like figures flew out one after another, like stardust returning to Amon.

The status of this Son of the Creator immediately rose to the angel level.

At the same time, Klein’s left hand lifted, and the human-skinned glove abruptly turned transparent.

Teleportation was being activated.

At that moment, the only real item among Klein’s clothing was Creeping Hunger. Everything else had been transformed from flesh and blood by his Faceless ability and the glove.

…Seeing that Travel was about to begin, Klein froze for a moment and blurted out, “Why didn’t you Teleport inside the room?”

He had expected Amon to take him away from Backlund. After all, this was a place even a King of Angels had to be wary of. But Klein could not understand why He had normally opened the door, gone downstairs, and left the hotel.

The eye behind Amon’s monocle swept over Klein. The corners of His mouth slowly rose.

“I already answered you. What a pity. You actually didn’t ask Pallez for help.”

This Angel of Time’s face carried an obvious smile, yet His black eyes held not the slightest trace of emotion. The sight chilled Klein to the bone.

He… He is certain I have a connection with Pallez Zoroast… Because of what happened last time? No, stop! Klein attempted meditation, working hard to control himself so that he would not think too much and have his thoughts stolen by Amon.

Amon glanced without much interest at the panicked pedestrians on the street, raised His head to look toward the gray sky, and said, “We can only wait until next time. Right now, the most important thing is to take you to that place.”

As He spoke, Klein and Amon both turned transparent and vanished from the hotel entrance. None of the passersby found anything abnormal about this.

After passing through countless indescribable spirit world creatures and layered, vivid blocks of color, Klein and Amon appeared above an expanse of sea.

Below them was a gigantic rift. The azure seawater was severed here, plunging vertically like a waterfall into bottomless darkness, yet forever unable to fill it.

This was the entrance to the ruins of the battle of gods.

Klein’s heart stirred, and he asked, “Are you taking me to the Forsaken Land of the Gods?”

The magnificent “waterfall” was already reflected in Amon’s monocle. He gently nodded and answered in a casual tone, “That’s right. Once we are there, even your messenger will no longer be able to sense you through your contract.”

The Forsaken Land of the Gods was clearly separated from the spirit world. Only Sefirah Castle could connect to it.

…Amon knows my plan… The flame of hope that had just risen in Klein was instantly doused by cold reality.

For the time being, he could find no other way to save himself.

At that moment, Amon, standing in midair, murmured to Himself, “If the tomb I had in Backlund hadn’t been destroyed by the Church of Steam, we could have used the Abyss as a stepping stone and gone directly there. There would be no need for such trouble.”

…Klein felt a little guilty and changed the subject. “The Abyss connects to the Forsaken Land of the Gods?”

“No.” Amon shook His head, His expression relaxed. “But I can make use of some of its traits to go anywhere.”

“I heard that some unpleasant changes have occurred within the Abyss.” Klein’s heart stirred, and he probed.

Amon turned His head and looked at him, making no attempt to hide His curiosity.

“You actually know that.”

“Mm. I once considered exploring the Abyss.” Klein did not say too much, afraid this King of Angels from the Marauder pathway would discover that he could read Roselle’s diary.

At that moment, Amon suddenly laughed.

“You, explore the Abyss?”

“What is so funny?” Klein was quite interested in what kind of abnormality had occurred in the Abyss. Seizing the chance, he cooperated with Amon, trying to learn more.

The moment he finished speaking, he suddenly had a new inspiration:

Use conversation with Amon to learn more historical secrets, digest the Scholar of Yore potion at extreme speed in secret, and see whether this could deepen his control over Sefirah Castle enough to escape the current predicament.

The thought flashed past, and Klein hurriedly restrained himself, no longer considering similar matters.

In response to his question, Amon laughed softly.

“If you go to the Abyss, it would be like a beautifully wrapped gift delivering itself straight into the hands of the one who wants it.”

“…The Dark Side of the Universe?” Klein was first startled, then thoughtfully offered a guess.

Amon nodded.

“He was originally the only surviving ancient god, the Devil Monarch Farbauti. Now, heh.”

Amon did not finish. He leaped down from the violent wind in midair, jumping toward that enormous illusory rift.

Klein immediately lost the support of the wind and plummeted downward.

After an unknown length of time, seawater surged up like a fountain, tossing both him and Amon to the other side of the cut.

The moment they entered the ruins of the battle of gods and were struck by bright sunlight, Klein’s ears abruptly filled with bursts of ravings carrying intense madness.

They were like thin steel needles, piercing through his eardrums and stabbing into his brain, filling every thought with immense pain even as they felt familiar.

And the Worms of Spirit that composed his mythical creature form gradually changed, as if a fallen consciousness that did not belong to him were about to be born.

The True Creator’s ravings!

Klein could barely withstand this, but he would not be able to hold on for too long. He had no way to travel far through the ruins of the battle of gods.

At that moment, he saw the monocle over Amon’s right eye absorb all surrounding light. It became extraordinarily bright, an expanse of blazing white.

Then dense darkness ruled the sky.

Amon directly stole daylight from the ruins of the battle of gods!

In the darkness, this avatar of the Angel of Time brought Klein down onto an island and made him sleep against a stone pillar.

Very soon, Klein arrived in that gray, hazy dream world. He saw the black monastery and, across the cliff, the projection of the Giant King’s Court, filled with epic and mythological weight.

Amon, wearing a black silk top hat and crystal monocle, appeared beside him. With an easy smile, He pointed toward the Giant King’s Court projection frozen in twilight.

“There is the entrance to the Forsaken Land of the Gods.”

Klein thought for a moment and voiced his doubt:

“Isn’t it necessary to enter the dream at a specific location in order to open the entrance?”

He could not help letting another trace of hope rise, thinking that if Amon could waste one or two weeks in the ruins of the battle of gods, that would be wonderful.

“Yes.” Amon did not deny Klein’s statement, His posture casual. “If you wanted to open the entrance, you would have to travel by ship all the way to the core region of this ruined sea. That might take more than a month, and you would encounter many, many dangers you currently cannot withstand. But I do not need to.”

“Because You are the Creator’s son?” Klein guessed after consideration.

“No.” Amon slipped one hand into His pocket and turned toward the black monastery’s entrance. “In this kind of chaotic place, where order is broken and rules have mutated, there are far too many things that can be exploited.”

As this Angel of Time walked, He turned His head sideways to look at Klein beside Him.

“The Marauder pathway’s Sequence 0 has a very abstract name: Error.

“My father named it. He once used a strange word, whose origin I do not know, to refer to it:

“‘Bug.’

“Translated, that means the Trojan horse of fate, the parasite of time, the loophole in rules, the embodiment of all errors.”