"As luck would have it, he'd entered a blood-craving state right around then, and I happened to notice the change in him."
Bishop Utravsky smiled and added, "To keep him from doing anything reckless, I had no choice but to lock him up for the time being — until he agrees to put his faith in the Mother Goddess."
"I worship the Moon! I will never convert to your Earth Mother! Give it up, you insufferable priest! And besides — I only go to the hospital blood bank every now and then to nick a little blood. How on earth is that dangerous?!"
Bishop Utravsky ignored him entirely and looked back at Klein. "I've just confirmed that even if he could heal your friend, there's a good chance he wouldn't be able to restore them fully. A complete recovery would probably require someone at the Viscount level — Sequence 5, in vampire terms."
"Do you think you could bring in a Viscount, then?"
"I'm afraid not. I've only just arrived in Backlund myself, and I don't know the local Sanguine well. You might be better off asking the one in there."
"They're called the Sanguine! The Sanguine!!!"
The voice bellowed from inside, then carried on: "Getting a Sanguine Viscount to help? Easy — just let me out, and I'll take you straight to them."
The giant bishop spread his hands apologetically. "He can't leave just yet, I'm afraid — though it shouldn't be much longer. Once he's free, you're welcome to come find him any time."
"Understood. Thank you, Father."
Klein gave a nod and turned to leave — but Bishop Utravsky spoke up before he'd taken two steps.
"Wait. Miss, I have a request of my own. If you're willing."
Klein blinked. "Sorry?"
The bishop's expression was perfectly calm. "Kill me."
...
3 PM.
In the grand and ancient hall, Klein sat in the Fool's seat, resting both hands on the mottled, verdigris-covered bronze table, gazing into the deep grey fog at the crimson stars that represented the others, and let his spirituality flow outward.
At once, beams of light rose throughout the hall — a space that felt built for giants — and the blurry, reddish figures of Justice, the Hanged Man, the Sun, and two Lovers appeared, one by one, as projections.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool. Good afternoon, Mr. Hanged Man..."
First to speak, as always, was Tarot Club's star student Audrey. She gave a small curtsy, her hands lightly pinching the hem of her skirt, and greeted each person in turn. Everyone returned the greeting in kind.
Klein looked out at the assembled faces and felt a quiet absurdity settle over him: above the Grey Fog, I am the mysterious and magnificent Fool — but the moment I leave, I'm just a low-ranking grunt in the Church of the Evernight Goddess. A man dressed as a woman, trying to infiltrate the Demoness Sect.
The contrast really is... something else.
After a brief silence, the Hanged Man, Alger, bowed respectfully and said: "Mr. Fool, six pages again this week — the final one will be with you next session."
"That's fine." Klein inclined his head slightly.
Alger composed himself and reached into memory, focusing the intent of recollection until the diary pages appeared in the Fool's hands.
Bernadette then said, quietly: "Mr. Fool, I also have three pages this week."
"Very well."
The intelligence on the Lord of Chaos had so far come entirely from the Lovers' diary contributions, and since Klein had already established contact with the Lord of Chaos himself, he was more eager than ever to receive more diary entries connected to Him.
This time, the three pages Bernadette presented were ones she'd deliberately selected — the entries her father wrote during his encounter with a nameless island in the Fog Sea:
"November 29th. I assembled three subordinates, and with Benjamin Abraham's help and a period of searching, I've finally found that nameless island again. We didn't enter directly; we decided to rest at the edge for a day first.
During this time we keep having nightmares — of the dead, of that terrible abyss, of… it seems as though a voice has been calling to me unceasingly, and that voice seems to come from this island."
Klein immediately recalled an earlier Roselle diary entry that had mentioned this very island. He steadied himself and read on.
"November 30th. We went deeper into the island. There is an abundance of extraordinary creatures here that are supposedly extinct. They gather without fighting, as though worshipping something. This horde of creatures with barely any intelligence seems to be performing some kind of ritual!"
"December 3rd. For reasons I can't explain, I've lost my memories of the past two days. I have a persistent sense that something happened, but I've forgotten all of it. I know that we very likely suffered some form of unknown contamination."
"Yet strangely, this contamination hasn't caused us to lose control, hasn't driven us to madness, hasn't killed us. It just keeps pulling us into nightmares, over and over."
"Regardless — we need to leave this island as soon as possible."
"December 3rd. After a day and night of sailing, we've finally put distance between ourselves and that nameless island. The nightmares that have been hounding us are beginning to ease, though we still don't dare to let our guard down, and press on without rest."
"I swear — I will never go back to that godforsaken island again!"
"December 29th. Another year almost gone. All the mausoleums are complete; there's no turning back now. If anyone can still read my diary, remember this: choose your Beyonder Pathway carefully."
"Go, friend who can read my diary. Go and seek out the secret of how we crossed over, and the truth buried within it. I will be watching you — if I'm still alive.
"And one last thing — never forget: beware the Moon!"
Klein read to the end and couldn't help but let out a quiet sigh. Oh, Your Majesty. Your diary has given me no small amount of help. I would very much like to seek out the secret of how we crossed — but right now… I'm still far too weak.
His gaze returned to the line "I will be watching you." According to historical records, Emperor Roselle was assassinated at the White Maple Palace and perished there.
Yet the Lovers believed he was still alive.
Is he, though?
Is he truly watching me?
Klein's mood grew complicated. He turned to the last page:
"December 31st. The final day of the year — the perfect day to make decisions and start new stories. I've settled on where to build seven of the eight secret mausoleums; only the last one is still without a clear location. It needs to be more hidden than the other eight, otherwise there's no point."
"After a long time thinking, I've come up with one place — the nameless island where Grint is buried."
Hm?
He'd just been frantically trying to escape that island — even swore he'd never go back — and then, barely a page later, he's saying he wants to build a mausoleum there?
What on earth happened between those two entries to make him change his mind so completely and arrive at the exact opposite decision?
Why did Emperor Roselle want to build mausoleums at all?
Was it a premonition of his own death?
But why so many mausoleums?
Was it for some kind of ritual?
Klein shook his head and turned to the six pages submitted by the Hanged Man. These entries were mainly about the birth of the Emperor's youngest son, and yet another mysterious gathering of that ancient organisation — where, by viewing the Blasphemy Slates, Roselle memorised the content of several Pathways.
Then came the revelation that Emperor Roselle had successfully produced the first-ever Card of Blasphemy, and his account of how every Pathway had a Sequence 0 above Sequence 1 — a True God.
"So the gods truly did ascend by consuming potions," Klein thought, genuinely stunned.
As long as a person took the corresponding potion, performed the correct rituals, and mastered the Acting Method to digest their Beyonder characteristic — they could, step by step, become a god?
He'd had vague suspicions before, but it was only now that it was truly confirmed. No wonder — no wonder the Blasphemy Slates recording the twenty-two Pathways bore the name "Blasphemy."
This really is blasphemy.
What was Roselle's final scheme? The diary gave the feeling of a man standing alone against the whole world, as though his only foothold was that mysterious and ancient organisation.
Klein suddenly remembered something. He flipped back to the Lovers' pages, and his eyes moved quickly across them — until they landed on those eight mausoleums. A staggering thought flickered to life:
What if everything Roselle did was connected to the ascension of a god?
To be continued…
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