pertwk Chapter 191 You can call me...
Chapter 191 You can call me...
Chapter 191 You can call me...
The conversation veered further and further off track, eventually turning into complaints about the food in this world and nostalgia for the delicacies of the once-great food-loving empire.
The conversation ended only when Klein felt a spiritual dryness within himself.
Before sending Sirion away from the space above the gray fog, he asked a question with great curiosity:
"When did you start to doubt my identity?"
Cyril: "At the beginning."
Klein's expression stiffened slightly, then he asked, "Why?"
"Do you remember Antigonus?" Cyril countered, and before the other could answer, he continued on his own:
"I know far more about 'the Fool' than you do."
"The closest beings currently existing in this world to 'The Fool' are Zarathustra and Antigonus. Before them was Fregra, the 'Destroyer Wolf,' but this ancient god was primarily guided by 'darkness.'"
"You can consider it that a true 'fool' has never existed, at least not in limited history."
"At the same time, the extraordinary characteristics of high-sequence beings in this world are finite, so it is difficult for an unknown 'Fool' to exist, even one that is only close to a 'Fool.'"
"If you still dare to call yourself a 'fool' under these circumstances, it's enough to show that you're most likely just a newbie who's only recently begun to explore the mystical world."
"But the fact that you were able to choose the Tarot card 'The Fool' from among countless titles might itself be a manifestation of fate."
"This indicates that you have a very strong connection with 'The Fool,' a connection that may stem from the past or the present."
He paused briefly, glanced down at the silent, boundless gray mist flowing beneath his feet, and then continued:
"Or perhaps in the future."
"Perhaps you are the future 'Fool'."
"You sound like you have a lot of confidence in me." Klein lowered his eyes, his mind racing.
...As expected, my disguise still had too many flaws. It could only fool newbies in the mysterious world like Miss "Justice" and Miss "Magician," as well as "country kids" like Little Sun who had never been exposed to the outside world.
Mr. Hanged Man had suspected me several times, but fortunately, he didn't know enough about the real big shots in the mysterious world, and because of his cautious nature, he was fooled by me using some advanced occult knowledge and the mystery brought by this gray fog.
But when faced with someone like Cyril, who has secrets, truly understands the mysterious world, and possesses many hidden knowledge, the previously subtle flaws are instantly magnified and exposed.
Thinking of this, he let out a soft breath, rubbed his temples, and, enduring the discomfort caused by the spiritual depletion, casually asked:
"I've already admitted my identity, so shouldn't you be a little more honest too?"
"Me? Of course I can..." He chuckled softly, gesturing with his lips.
"You may call me: from the unknowable sublimity, the gateway above dimensions, the embodiment of art and fantasy."
Next to the St. Hillland Cathedral, in the office behind a precision machinery shop called Perpetual Gear.
Clifford, the Punisher Deacon, wearing a storm priest's robe embroidered with symbols such as waves, storms, and lightning, his bulging muscles stretching the loose robe, was quickly flipping through a small stack of documents.
As he flipped through the documents, his brows furrowed deeper and deeper. Finally, he simply closed the file in his hand and looked at Ikonser, who was sitting behind his desk drinking tea, with a hint of dissatisfaction between his brows.
"Is this all the information you've provided?"
"A wild Beyonder active in Backlund, registered by you, and you don't even know what pathway he has or what his sequence number is?"
"Even this little bit of information is from more than half a year ago. Apart from simple life trajectories and relationships, there's not a single useful piece of information."
Iconsel waited until he finished speaking before putting down his teacup and saying slowly but firmly:
"Sirius Gray is a devout believer of my Lord and an important informant for the development of our Mechanical Heart. His information and safety are protected by the Church."
"If you can provide a reasonable explanation for investigating his past and private information, our Mechanical Heart will naturally cooperate to some extent."
Clifford stared at Iconsel for a long time, then sighed and said calmly:
"This is a direct order from Mr. Ace Snake, the 'Singer of God'."
"I don't know the specific reasons, but it's probably related to the investigation into the fact that my Lord sent down divine punishment twice in a row."
Iconsel shook his head slightly and sighed as well:
"Protecting informants is the duty of the Mechanical Heart, and it is also the intention of Archbishop Horamik."
Clifford's expression froze. He glared at Iconsel, said nothing, picked up the few thin sheets of paper in his hand, and turned to leave the office.
Before he left the office, Iconsel suddenly reminded him:
"With Mechanical Heart protecting Cyril during this time, I hope I won't run into you at the scene."
boom!
His response was a loud slam of the door shut.
Shortly after Clifford left, there was another knock on the door of Iconsel's office.
Ikonser glanced at the door to the side and casually said, "Come in."
With a creaking sound, Horamik Hayden, dressed in a white priest's robe and wearing a clergy cap, entered.
Upon recognizing the person, Ikonser immediately composed himself, rose from his chair, and gestured up and down in front of his chest to form the shape of a triangular holy symbol before greeting them:
Good evening, Your Excellency Archbishop.
"I have already sent away that substitute deacon as you instructed."
Khoramik nodded gently and said with a smile:
"We don't need to think too much about this matter, let alone investigate it. We just need to follow the Lord's divine will."
"oracle!"
Iconsel's eyes widened in disbelief, his face a mixture of shock and excitement.
This is an oracle, the oracle of the "God of Steam and Machinery." From the time he joined the Heart of Machinery to now becoming the captain and deacon of the Backlund diocese, this is the first time he has come into contact with an oracle.
After a moment of excitement, he suppressed his curiosity and earnestly assured Archbishop Horamik, "I understand. I will keep a close eye on Cyril Grey and prevent the Church of the 'Lord of the Storm' from interfering with him."
Khoramik shook his head slightly: "Just keep everything normal. All you have to do is refuse requests from other churches or organizations, just like you did today, and offer some goodwill to that informant when necessary."
Although Iconsel was puzzled, he did not ask further questions and simply nodded in response:
"I see."
After a pause, he asked with some curiosity about another event that had happened that day:
"Your Excellency, was the frequent lightning this afternoon truly a divine punishment from the 'Lord of Storms'?"
Horamik nodded slightly: "There was indeed the will of the Lord of Storms in those lightning bolts, but I don't know why he did it. It seems like he was cleaning up something hidden in Backlund. Perhaps the Church of the Storms will provide an explanation later."
Iconsel nodded thoughtfully... Could this be related to Clifford coming to me earlier to ask for information on Cyril Grey?
As his thoughts drifted, he heard Khoramik's gentle, smiling voice:
"The headquarters in Trier has approved your application. I will now inform you of the potion recipe for Sequence 5, 'The Astronomer'."
However, you may need to collect some of the materials yourself.
"Backlund is lacking some materials, and we need to negotiate to get them from churches in other regions, which will take quite a while."
Upon hearing that his application had been approved, Ikonser snapped out of his daze and looked at Khoramik with a face full of surprise.
"No problem, I'll try to collect the missing materials myself."
At sea, in the deep darkness of night, a dark-colored wooden three-masted sailing ship sails on its own without any operator.
On the deck at the bow of the ship, a grown man with dark blue hair, deep features, rugged contours, and a bronze complexion stood quietly.
He held an empty glass in his hand, leaned against the ship's railing, and gazed at the deep blue, almost black, sea below.
"Why does 'Fate' want seawater from me?"
"What's the deeper meaning behind this? Or is he actually trying to pinpoint my location at sea by observing the nearby waters?"
He murmured a few words to himself, then stretched out a hand. Guided by his spirit, a ball of seawater, a dozen meters away from the ship, suddenly broke free from the surface and flew toward him, eventually landing in the empty glass in his hand.
After collecting the seawater, he turned and walked towards the cabin.
At the same time, the "Azure Avenger" beneath his feet began to accelerate, heading towards the Roside Islands.