Distant shouts, explosions and the high-pitched whistle of artillery shells resonated, causing the surroundings to shake as pieces of soil fell on a man, yet he remained unbothered by it.
He looked at his hands—rough and marred with dirt, then at his roughed-up military uniform, as well as the men in similar gear, beside and behind him. After giving him a nod, he tightly gripped his tactical knife, and with the illumination of his carbide lamp attached to his headgear, he cautiously led the way through the somewhat narrow tunnel; one they had dug and formed with their very own hands.
The distress signal from their fellow soldiers brought them here, some matching on this sliver of hope to save their fellow brothers. However, he was more focused on his mission—to end the war.
The group moved through the tunnel, occasionally stopping due to the faint and distant rumbles or the occasional random pebbles which fell beside them. Their nerves were taut, ready to react to anything. However, their leader wasn't perturbed by this; his confidence caused some of them to relax.
A move that they soon came to regret.
Suddenly, from one end of the tunnel, loud explosions sounded, causing most to react in time as they either advanced with large strides, threw themselves into a nearby alcove, or froze for a moment. The last group mostly perished with some turning mangled corpses, while the rest were incapacitated due to their gruesome wounds.
The loud voice of their leader caused those hidden in various alcoves to ignore their ringing ears and make a move. However, before they could do much, hands equipped with sharp knives appeared from the surrounding darkness, stabbing into their throats, before cutting them open, causing the blood to dye the decadent environment.
Even the slowest of them knew their enemy had laid in ambush, waiting for them to fall for the false distress signal they had made themselves, and corner them. However, these soldiers, hardened by the harsh war and having families to go back to, weren't about to drop arms.
Blood, teeth, sweat, flesh, tears, mutilated corpses flew around, swords, knives, and even glass shards were all used and broken accordingly.
It was a bloodbath.
Soon, the man—the leader looked at the blood dotting the tunnel—no, they… He was now in an open ruin.
However, his eyes were drawn to the corpses once more, some were dressed in attires denoting their clerical association to the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, and the rest, like him, wore the typical Loenese soldier attire.
The man dropped his deformed knife and looked at his hands, now covered with blood, viscera, with what looked like an eye.
At that moment, a realisation dawned on him—they weren't soldiers, nor machines. They were all humans; some with hopes, dreams, a future, others with a family to support, their own lives to live for. But they were all laid to waste. All because of a war—a war most of them had all willingly joined, in the name of patriotism, or religious fanaticism.
The man cursed himself as he realised that out of all his men, he, who was supposed to face the most danger, somehow survived with all his limbs intact and just a number of recoverable injuries.
After an unknown time passed, he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He still had a mission to complete. But this time it wasn't out of duty—it was for all those who once looked up to him, but were currently lying in a pool of their own blood.
The man went through every one of his men, and cut off their badges, and then went to all his enemies, and took notice of their appearance, no matter how mangled they were. He could always perform a ritual to reform their intact faces in his mind.
After doing all this, he finally took some time to examine his surroundings. The ruin looked more like a fallen cathedral, with a style he could not really recognize. However, he did spot some elements reminiscent of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, the Church of Storms, and the Church of Knowledge and Wisdom.
Somehow, at the centre, a large and tall wooden cross remained standing, with part of its immense body buried in the soil. Apart from this, the man could see a number of statues with indistinct faces, all radiating a holy impression.
These statues varied in size, with some sporting twelve wings, while others only half of that, and a few smaller ones with four and two wings. Even with the collapsed surroundings, these statues still seemed to look up at the grand cross, as if pleading for support.
The man couldn't help but nervously chuckle, wondering if the zealots of the Sun saw this as blasphemous, and hence didn't report it to their superiors, while not wanting word of it to get out.
However, a potent attraction came from deep within the ruin, causing him to cast his eyes beyond the cross. At the end of the ruin was a deep alcove in which a giant statue of a woman dressed in simple robes dearly held a man in her arms who wore a crown of thorns. However, what shocked the man the most was the blood, which seemed to contain all colours within, flowed from the crowned head of the man, and moved along his left shoulder, culminating into a gold framed religious cross, embellished with red stones. The blood seemed to seep into the cross instead of falling to the ground.
The man felt an intense and deep calling to it: He had to claim that cross!
…
Argh, dammit. And you'll think a Psychiatrist won't suffer from a hangover. A man woke up from his slumber, removing the sheets covering his form. His back felt hot, but he ignored it for a moment as he examined his neat but small room.
God Almighty—Logi-Hægr Morgenglanz yawned, putting a hand up to his mouth and brushed his dark hair while enjoying the slight light of dawn filtering through the small window by the side of his bed.
That dream, huh? He shook his head while getting up and moved to the bathroom to freshen up. As he did so, he recalled—or more like finally parted some of his attention to his burning back.
Logi turned around and examined his bare back, which featured a shocking scene; three tattoos of crucifixes running all the way from the top to the bottom part of his back!.
The left one featured a woman who looked eerily similar to Logi, coupled with dark hair and dark eyes, with her face bent to the side. Her crucifix was entangled with grapes and vines, and beneath her nailed feet was a woman who looked up at her. Her long black hair covered part of her face, with her side profile revealing a boundless maternal glow.
The middle featured a man, with an identical look as Logi—No, it was Logi himself, with his crucifix being the biggest and tallest of the three. Beneath his nailed feet were seven small children, with a noblewoman at the front, her eyes moist, while tears flowed down her cheeks. Her left hand was extended towards Logi, seemingly trying to reach and touch him.
On the left was a mix of both of the other two—a True Hermaphrodite. Their crucifix was asunder, as if burned beforehand. Beneath their nailed feet were corpses, some charred, others riddled with plagues, while a few were bony from extreme starvation.
All these created an eerie, but also seemingly divine back tattoo, with all its features perfectly fitting on his back, even complimenting it.
Well, I'm quite tall, Logi shamelessly lied to himself, as he shook his head and recalled his dream.
The same dream which I can't, for some reason, get rid off… But it's the first time since my "transmigration" four days ago that it occurred. So, technically, it's my first time experiencing it.
He quickly extinguished his random thoughts as he placated himself and looked deeply at his reflection. That dream…
His thoughts drifted back to the world war—the war in this world—which he happily joined, believing the only way he could effectively prevent the war from reaching the orphanage was by actively participating.
How narrow minded… In the end, our mortal struggles didn't matter much, and it all rested on those residing in the Astral world… Not like I don't understand their point of view somewhat.
Once more, Logi shook his head as he went deeper into his thoughts. Throughout the war which saw him deployed in the Far east of the Star highlands of West Balam—more specifically as a tunneler in the trench warfare occurring in the outskirts of Rapus city.
Logi's mission involved digging during the height of day and placing bombs underneath enemy infrastructures, where he and his entourage risked getting buried under soil and rubble. This was due to the advanced bomb artillery of the Church of Steam and Machinery, as well as the holy spells of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun.
However, his team persevered—until they couldn't, with a part of them getting lost for a total of three days and nights within the now extensive tunnel network that they had discreetly built. A distress signal had been sent on the fourth day, but the crew all believed it to be a trap to lure them in.
However, no reinforcement would come for them.
Because of this, they had no choice but to force through, preparing to face this obstacle with the slight chance of rescuing their comrades. That, of course, naturally resulted in failure.
Logi shut his eyes upon remembering his team's failure. The scenes of such flashed past his mind, as a deep sigh escaped his lips. He had eventually succeeded in destroying countless enemy bases and their advanced weaponry. He was awarded with countless medals of honors, showered with praises, and even had the chance of advancing, eventually becoming a sequence 7 Psychiatrist, from his original level as a Spectator before the war.
But those meant little.
With his men put in peace, and their family somewhat compensated, Logi shifted his focus and worked to search through every individual who ambushed them back then. Not for revenge, but for his own redemption. While they were enemies, in the end, he believed none of them deserved such a fate. In the end, they were nothing in the grand scheme of things.
And so, he investigated with the help of a few Sheriff colleagues, he eventually narrowed down the families of each of these people.
Only Gabriella was orphaned, and so I took her in… As a half Loenese, she who had spent most of her life in Constant city, and only moved to Aurmir in Intis during the start of the war, didn't struggle to integrate.
The image of a black-haired, blue-eyed and quiet young girl came to mind. She was one of the seven children who remained after the fires.
Logi let out a sigh as he turned to a cupboard beside the sink. After letting out another sigh and still feeling his burning back, he opened it and took something out of it.
Within his hand was a golden palm-sized cross embellished with red stones. This was the cross he obtained from the ruin, which he recently surmised was likely a cathedral from the Third Epoch.
After holding the cross, I dreamt of a sea with all sorts of colours… I've zero idea what it signifies. His brows furrowed before relaxing, recognising it was likely a part of his and his fellow "Transmigrator's" erased memories.
Holding the cross in his hands caused the burning on his back—from the tattoo which he couldn't understand its significance—to recede.
Logi deeply scrutinised the mysterious cross in thought. After holding it a second time, I didn't see that "Sea" once again. The other times afterwards, granted me various abilities that suddenly became possible for me to use; those are basically the abilities of a Notary, such as Authentication, Nullification, and Amplification. There's also a Notary's Sun Halo and Eye of Two miniature suns… There aren't any side effects that I know of, but I feel like there's much more to this cross—whatever, let's just name it "Our Lady of the Sun." That meets the eye… Maybe I should have an Appraiser, or better yet, an Artisan to take a look…
Oh, well, I've got more things to do… The moment he reached that thought, a soft knock sounded from his door, which he soon replied to. "Good morning. I'll be with you all in a minute, Madam Gabriella."
"Oh… I'm sorry, good morning," A soft voice sounded in a hasty manner, and was swiftly followed by quick, distancing steps.
Logi smiled softly and walked towards his closet, soon donning an all-black attire. He meticulously combed his hair, and then paused for a moment before taking the cross, embellished with red stones, with him.
Suddenly, the cross turned itself into a golden stream which embedded itself onto his back, more specifically onto the middle tattoo depicting the tallest cross. This wasn't a surprise for him, as it was not the first time it had happened. Being a curious one, Logi had, in the past, naturally tried to get rid of the cross, but eventually found it right next to him the very next day.
Logi walked along the corridor of the apartment he and his children had rented, moving down to the small reception area where the seven children were all standing, dressed in all-dark attires as well.
Today was the funeral for all those who had died in the fire.
The kids all gave their greetings, mentioning that they had eaten as they walked out of the hall together, entering the streets. Logi didn't need his supernatural observation skills to notice their grief, with some trying to act strong and more nonchalant.
Children shouldn't be feeling this, right? He inwardly questioned as he walked out of the hall, but stopped midway through the door. A specific thought had just surfaced; a command he had received not long after his transmigration.
Go to Trier… I forgot hearing this? Me? A Psychiatrist? His turbulent thoughts didn't hinder him for long as he made the children enter the two carriages he had rented.
Within one of said carriages, Logi silently observed a short boy who looked to be eight, fixing the collars of a smaller child with blonde hair.
That command… Four days ago. I associated it with the original owner of the Grey Fog, especially given that a majestic castle appeared in my vision when I heard the command. And to go to Trier? Yes, Loki is from Trier, and is likely already active like the other transmigrators! He's also a blessed of that existence…
Was it perhaps to meet him? But why me? Am I even the only one? Maybe someone from our special group is also involved? I did surmise there was something fishy about how I had the authority and mark of a moderator, but my spiritual intuition, which isn't really remarkable, warned me not to reveal it to the others. And I followed it for some reason…
Hmm… What should I do? Should I pray to Klein? No, that could horribly backfire. There's no guarantee right now that my prayer will be directed towards him and not that existence instead.
This is so frustrating…
Well, I can hint at something like this in the next gathering and gauge their reactions. Logi stopped his reflections as he turned to a girl, in her early teen years with short black hair, who repeatedly glanced at the window by her side, peering at the carriage following beside them.
After some time, she asked in a cheerful tone. "Is this one of those cat and mouse games we always play? I don't see Jude, Everette, Mathew, and so many others. They are so good at this. They have been hiding since Tuesday."
Her excited tone caused the two other children beside Logi to panic as they turned to the latter, who wore an empathetic look.
With a smile, Logi patted the girl's head and spoke. "They're all sleeping tight Lillie."
"Whaaat!?" Lillie pouted and folded her arms, looking at him. "Why do they get to sleep when we're out here? I was tired too!"
Logi brought her into a hug and then spoke in a gentle tone. "That's because you're a big girl. And what did I say big girls do?"
Lillie paused for a moment in thought, before responding with a look of enlightenment, "Be brave and strong to protect my siblings awake."
Logi smiled, but it soon retracted and was replaced with a sorrowful expression. This wasn't the first time he had to comfort her.
His eyes moved to the two other children, who both looked down with tears threatening to burst out.
Children shouldn't need to hold back tears like that. Isn't that right?
The carriages crossed through the streets of the Loen's financial centre—Hiliston Borough, eventually reaching the Crown's cemetery, which was already somewhat populated. The participants all wore black, conservative attires, with most women opting for hats equipped with dark veils.
Weathered and newly made tombstones were the most crowded, with members of the clergymen of the Church of Evernight giving a short mass for the departed.
The atmosphere was sombre and cold.
Logi, with his seven children, walked into the cemetery grounds, soon standing some distance away from the main crowd. They observed some who silently wept, others less restrained, with a few standing still, their emotion indescribable. As the mass passed, and the sols of the dead were placated, some people—not caring about appearance, laid on the ground, tightly hugging the tombstones, while some passed by them, paying their respects with flowers.
A few of the participants seemed to recognise Logi—with sister Mary Magdalene, simply looking at the group from a distance.
Logi suddenly felt the small hand he held trembled as he looked down to Lillie, whose lips quivered a few times while her widened eyes remained fixed on the ceremony. She soon looked up at him. Tears began to build up in her eyes as she choked on her next words. "They… They're all eternally… Resting?"
Suddenly, like a dam finally being unleashed, the other six children, from the tallest to the smallest, the sturdiest looking to the frail and quiet one, all burst into tears while letting out shrill cries.
Lillie shook at their reactions as tears flowed down her cheeks, while Logi knelt down before her, soon drawing back her attention. After some hesitation, Logi said in a poignant tone, "They are all peacefully slumbering in the Goddess's heaven, filled with Lilies, night vanilla and moon flowers."
"B—but, why? I'm supposed to be protecting them…" The girl said while crying as she desperately wiped her tears.
Logi let her vent out her emotions. Eventually, she said in a low tone. "I… I have to go with them… I can't let them go."
At this moment, she was pulled into a tight and warm embrace as a firm hand rubbed her hair, while a gentle voice sounded. "You still have to protect those who are awake, Lillie. That's what I and what they all wanted. Jude, Everette, Mathew, Matron Agatha, Miss Emily, Father Jacob and all the others believed you as the biggest and bravest one. Big girls have to protect those who are awake."
"Aren't you a big girl?"
Lillie froze hearing this, and in a muffled tone she replied. "... Yes."
Logi extended his hand and welcomed the other children, who were observing them, letting them cry out.
Children shouldn't need to be put on a front. Unfortunately, children like them are all forced to mature at an abnormal rate in order to cope with their harsh environment…
This was why Logi didn't use his Beyonder powers to calm them. He believed that they all needed to naturally vent their emotion and learn to cope and adjust to this cold and cruel world.
One which will continue to decline at an exaggerated pace… Logi thought as he slowly turned to peer at the entrance of the cemetery.
There, not too far from a luxurious carriage, stood a woman with blonde hair. Her smooth hair tied into a high bun, while her eyes, covered behind a dark veil, were that of deep emerald, perfectly accentuating her stunning appearance, which seemed to light up the somber cemetery. She, like any other person within the premise, was dressed in black, her gown flowing, while her gloved hand held onto the leash of a huge golden retriever with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses hanging on its neck.
Behind them was a woman Logi identified as a maid.
Miss Audrey… Logi wasn't surprised by this, as he did meet her a few times due to the Hall family's funding of their orphanage.
Sensing now wasn't the right time to discuss, Audrey curtsied to him before moving into the carriage behind her, while Logi nodded and turned to sister Mary Magdalene who now stood before him.
They both exchanged silent nods as Logi, noticing the finally somewhat steady children, spoke in a gentle manner. "They all wanted us to enjoy big and delicious meals in a fancy restaurant as one big family."
The children all seemed to understand what he meant as they nodded, and with the help of the sister, he led them out of the cemetery. While doing so, he suddenly thought. There's a rapidly growing restaurant chain in East Borough… I think its name was "Sin and Savour?"
Totally not ominous at all…
…
Backlund Bridge, West Balam duck.
The once abandoned dock area was now full of vitality, with ships passing through the mighty Tussock river, ready to unload their equipment at the bustly port. Rowdy sailors, mainly of West Balam origins, went about their day, with vendors loudly advertising their goods to passersby.
Seated on one of the balconies of a nearby tall apartment was an average-looking man. His eyes, lidded with heavy and deep dark circles, wandered around, examining the crowd down below with a restless expression.
… Hmm… Yes, their necks are all well structured and robust. Perfect for my claws to rip apart and present to the crowd. The man thought, releasing excited breaths as he repeatedly forced himself to stay seated in his lounge.
However, he suddenly froze and then peered at a bracelet on his wrist, featuring a purplish gem tinged with green. After some reflection, the man got up, entered his apartment, removed the bracelet, and then shoved it into a plastic bag filled with a transparent liquid.
Phew… It's getting worse. Sashimi—James Watson rubbed his tired eyes while retracting his sharp and long claws so he could ruffle his hair.
I've to find a Psychiatrist… No, borrow the Scarlet Lunar Corona from Maric. No! Dammit. I've got to contact Klein! I've been putting that on a hold for too long. Various voices in his head sounded at the same time as his eyes wandered back to the bracelet soaked in aphrodisiacs.
This was a sealed artefact corresponding to a Faceless but was also tainted with corruption. He had obtained it from his recent expedition to the Southern Continent.
The source of my problems… But somehow a huge clue that I can contact him safely… Probably... James continued to ruffle his hair in frustration.
For the past five days, this had been his case. His mental state had continued to fragment, not only due to his natural inclination to madness as a Werewolf, but also due to the effects of his shapeless bracelet.
Transmigrating into a bloodied corpse on some altar in the wilderness would do that to anyone! He settled down somewhat with a chuckle, as he grabbed a half finished Lanti Proof bottle on a table before him and took a large gulp.
Three months ago, he, as a member of the Temperance faction of Rose School of Thought, was deployed to the Southern Continent to participate in the joint effort created by the orthodox factions, to eradicate the Rose School of Thought, Indulgence Faction, among other organisations. This gave him the opportunity to part from his borderline, out of control Lunatic self, but unfortunately, become a Werewolf mindlessly craving for blood under the illumination of the blood Moon.
And lots of Blood Moons back then, James thought with a tired sigh as he recalled his and his colleagues' bouts of madness during those times. To remedy this, their seniors often provided them with rituals, mystical items, and even corresponding sealed artefacts. However, the madness still got to some of them.
I vaguely remember wandering away at some point. Yes, with Clara… We were probably then captured by those maniacs… No, Clara was killed... His tired eyes flickered as he recalled the image of a hand protruding out of his Werewolf teammate's chest, holding her still beating heart.
There's nothing I could do. James let out a sigh as he took another swing.
Following this horrific event, he vaguely recalled being laid on an altar with eyes, arms, heads, and organs embedded in it. Then, a dark red blood-red light surged out like a tidal wave, distorting into the shape of a deformed tree before his eyes.
The thought caused him to tremble as he turned back to his bracelet. When in use, the bracelet would fuse with his body, allowing him to change its structure accordingly. James recalled having used the artefact shortly before he wandered away from his allies together with his partner.
I was used as a vessel for a boon… However; it didn't successfully integrate with me, and I died due to it… They must've been so disappointed witnessing that…
He let out a somewhat crazed laugh, but soon calmed down.
That moment was eventually followed by his "transmigration."
My corpse didn't even produce a Beyonder characteristic, and thus they left it to rot in open air. I'm guessing the Miracle of Resurrection caused this. Yes, the boon was also redirected to the bracelet, causing it to become tainted. Erhm… I think the boon in question is a sequence 7 Actor of the Scrooge path? It rhymes well with Faceless.
The mutation led to the bracelet to gain an additional ability—Acting. Through this, he could imitate certain features of an occupation or identity, and embody them. This included but was not limited to: portray an ordinary person, making his Astral projection appear ordinary as well, act as a soldier, an animal, as a woman, though the latter needed some additional preparation. He could even act as a Beyonder, replicating a corresponding ability with enough observation. Though the replicated ability didn't have any tangible effects.
However, this came with serious negative effects which included extreme greed, lust, or sometimes a deep yearning for attention, all worsened the original artefact's negative effect, which caused personality disorder after prolonged use.
Unfortunately, members of the Indulgence faction roam around. Masking my appearance is useful. I've to keep using it until I become a Wraith. James then placed the plastic bag in his coat, making sure to seal the bag to prevent spillage.
The formless bracelet could be sealed by dosing it with aphrodisiacs.
Okay, it's best I plan out my day now that my mind is somewhat clear. James got up from his seat, moved to his bathroom, and washed his face.
First, head to the brothel… No, my lust isn't out of control. But I guess I can go there in the evening. He shook his head vigorously at the distracting thought.
What I actually need to do now is head to the Bravehearts bar, and hope Mr. Maric is there. Better yet, Madam Sharron, and with my meta knowledge, the best case would be meeting our leader—Reinette Tinekerr… Heheh, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Also, He wiped his face with his towel, while observing his weary reflection. While my mission was put on hold, I wonder if I can be rewarded… Clara… your best friend died and you're thinking about rewards!
"This is exactly why I'm thinking about this," James said in a hissing tone, his incisors growing into fangs while fur grew all over his body. After some time, he let out a sigh, as his Werewolf transformation receded.
Only by becoming a demigod can I hope to avenge whoever murdered her. Right now, I'm but a mere fish swimming in a turbulent ocean, filled with unknown dangers.
James straightened his arched back as he slicked his hair. The hair in question grew long, soon passing his shoulders, while his black eyes turned brown. His body shortened quite a bit with his face as well as body features turning softer and leaner.
James smiled sadly at the reflection of his deceased companion, Clara, and then let out another sigh as he made his hair turn auburn, while his eyes became blue. He now looked like a refined middle-aged woman of Loenese descent.
While using the Faceless sealed artefact came with corresponding risks, he believed he could quell it somewhat after meeting with his superior.
Nodding to himself, James moved out of his apartment and walked along the road of the Backlund bridge, deeply inhaling the midday air. His eyes moved, peering at children blissfully running around the neighborhood, without care of the world.
Over a year later after the war, the people recovered. James thought with a melancholic sigh as he brought some breadcrumbs from a street vendor and fed them to nearby pigeons while walking.
Honestly, the best way for me to deal with my unstable mental state would be by becoming a teacher. James remembered various details. Being a teacher was something he always wanted to do in both lives, but he could only accomplish it in his previous life; eventually becoming a professor in the field of Neurology. He felt most relaxed when educating people who wished to learn.
I don't need to impersonate a teacher to become one in a short time. School should also be resuming all throughout the Kingdom now… Then again, with my mental condition, I better bury this thought.
He shook his head at his wistful thinking, eventually entering the Iron Grate Streets.
Hmm… We've connected a few times this week, but no actual meeting, James mused while observing his hand. As one of the seven moderators—Sashimi, he could activate his pentagram, an action which was followed after varying lengths of time by his fellow moderators. Though none of them took the step toward a meeting within the mysterious environment.
Too many unknowns… I'm even shocked I responded the first time, given my cautious nature… Nah, my mental state isn't really reliable; sometimes, I'm especially reckless.
Anyway, we should meet in two days, so there's no rush. James brushed his auburn shoulder-length hair as he pushed open the door to a noisy bar. While he didn't make himself stunning, his appearance still drew eyes and whistles from the clientele of the Bravehearts bar.
Me and my attention seeking ass. He ignored the catcalls as he took a seat on a nearby empty table and spent ten pence on wheat bread with pork sausages and a glass of Southville beer, making himself appear rather rich.
After baring his fangs, and emitting some of his bloodlust to a few drunkards daring enough to pass by his table, he moved to the bartender, and questioned. "Old man here?"
The bartender observed him for a moment before responding, "In Billiard room 3."
James nodded and slowly walked towards a familiar place, and knocked on the unlocked door.
"Come in." A voice rang out, to which he pushed open the door, and then locked it behind him.
Welding a pool cue stick, a young man who looked to be eighteen, dressed in a typical gentleman attire. His red eyes narrowed and with a practiced flick, he sent a cue ball arcing across the felt, striking the target ball with precision.
The young man then straightened and, with a smile, turned to James while casually mentioning. "Hello there, mademoiselle James. Mind a few rounds?"
James scoffed hearing this, and with a smirk he said, "It seems your recent visit to Aurmir poisoned your young, developing mind." Aurmir was the provincial capital of the Champagne province in the Intis Republic.
"Though I've been meaning to ask how you could always causally see through my disguises." James' question was followed by Ian Wright motioning a finger to his sharp nose.
"My sense of smell has improved greatly since we first met," Ian answered with a smile as James nodded. A Vampire? It seems he has finally embraced his roots.
Observing his friend for a moment, the tall Ian reached into his coat and threw a letter to James, which the latter casually caught, while saying, "Sent by Mr. Maric. He isn't actually here, by the way."
As expected, James nodded while unsealing the letter and observing its contents.
"I'll make it short. I've received your previous letter, and we've investigated the culprit to be Pedro Pascal, a Wraith serving under Mahmosi."
James narrowed his eyes at the name as he continued reading.
"Reign in your desires, and through enough restraint, can you build up a potent power, mighty enough to wipe out your foes. You don't need to get back. Rest if possible. Your corresponding reward would be sent to Ian in due time. I originally wanted to send you ritualistic materials so you could combat the effects of the blood Moon, and then recommend you to a high level Spectator, but I've another option which was proposed by the leader."
Madame Tinekerr? James's eyes widened as he read the final paragraphs.
"Recite this honorific name in a mystical language:
The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;
The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog;
The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.
The leader mentioned you've a high chance of getting a response, though only use it for serious matters.
Your senior, Maric."
I've a high chance of receiving a response? Confusion filled James's soft features as he went into deeper reflections. Klein just went to sleep. It should be five days now. Also, the leader is one of his angels… Did he inform them about us?
This was something he, as well as his fellow "transmigrators" had imagined; The Fool was likely the one who released them. As for who made them move from one world to the other, they all wisely choose not to investigate.
In this world, curiosity not only killed the cat but also had a high likelihood of making it pregnant with an Eldritch horror!
If so, then I'll have more confidence… It would also be nice to meet that high sequence spectator in person though…
James pouted as he pocketed the letter and then turned to Ian, who returned his focus to the billiard. "You've got some ritualistic materials around here?"
Ian didn't speak, and simply gestured at the shelves in the room, prompting James to nod as he soon found some candles and a ritualistic silver dagger. After making the relevant preparation, he paused his actions of building a wall of spirituality as he turned to his friend, who spoke with a chuckle. "You only remember I'm here now? Don't worry, we all believe in him, anyway."
I'm very excited indeed. After a bout of cogitation, and sniffing the pleasant smell of vanilla from the candles, James calmly recited in ancient Hermes.
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;
The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog;
The King of Yellow and Black, who wields good luck."
Immediately after saying this, greyish white fog permeated the surroundings, and James felt his consciousness slip as he faintly perceived a majestic castle looming above a thin grey fog.
A gaze suddenly weighed on him.
James felt his thoughts clear, as a black mist emitted from his body's spores and then, the mist formed into words, in ancient Hermes, saying, "Head to Empress Borough."
Soon after, James snapped out of his thoughts as the surroundings returned to normal. He stood in a daze for a moment before shaking his head with a smile.
Just why did I hesitate to contact him for so long? Also, I feel like a massive weight was lifted from within. Like my ears and nostrils were blocked and now they're finally freed after years…
He saw Ian turn off the candles while picking them up for storage.
Also, Empress Borough? To meet Audrey? No, Miss Justice's virtual persona—Audrey… Wouldn't it have been better for Maric to contact her instead?
James let go of those thoughts as he heard Ian say, "Why are you smiling so wildly? It's creepy."
This caused Sashimi to realize he had been smiling since reciting the honorific name. He messaged his mouth for a moment and turned to his friend. "We can play another time. Something urgent came up."
Before Ian could even nod in understanding, the woman moved out of the room; her smile reforming in the process.
Dammit. I can't contain my happiness! It feels nice to have a strong backing… I wonder if I'm the first from the group to contact him.
A myriad of thoughts formed in James's mind as he looked up at the cloudy skies.
He finally felt like he had a direction in this new and dangerous life of his.