70
"Richard," I called out, "what are you doing?"
The young man, squatting on the ground and absorbed in some tasks, turned his head. Startled, he wiped his dirty hands on his clothes and quickly stood up, bowing his head. "Teacher."
"There is an old man in this village who once helped me a great deal, but he is now in poor health and his eyesight is failing. His children are not around, so I visit him when I have time." Richard's satchel contained matches, pens, and newspapers—items that were still a novelty outside of the capital, Trier, and its neighboring cities. The newspaper boys shouted their wares in the streets, and Richard, too, had shoeshine tools tucked in his bag. "I read the newspaper to him, boil water for tea, and talk with him. It makes him happy."
Richard Ernst is a special human being.
But not extraordinarily so. As I observed him through my unique authority, I saw dozens of thin, transparent threads wrapped around his hands—the souls he had saved and to whom he had formed vital connections. Though his efforts were small, he helped where he could, as if saving people from war. Yet he never sought to stop it at its root. He did not preach peace or speak out against the blind worship of Roselle's radical aggression.
In that sense, he was just an ordinary man.
"You're filthy," I said. "You can't return with me like this. Why did you let yourself get so dirty?"
"...Sorry, he lives in a slum alley with no proper sewer system." Richard looked embarrassed.
I inclined my head slightly. "Then enter my manor through the stables' small door and clean yourself in the bathroom, as you have before."
"Yes," he replied, following me at a distance of two meters, his head bowed.
The road was unusually quiet, which surprised me. He always had much to say—about all manner of things. After all, he had experienced much in his short life: persecution by his peers for his differing ideals, being taken away by his teacher and other seniors, pursued and attacked by the indulgent faction, killing and wounding more than half of them before escaping to the manor of a nobleman—only to discover that nobleman was a "Devil" of an adjacent sequence.
"You're troubled," I said.
Was he finally realizing that being sheltered by a devil was not so glorious after all? Or had remnants of the temperance faction come seeking to reclaim him?
"...Teacher, I'm confused."
His voice was soft, drifting from behind me. "People can earn money through labor. Nobles could help the poor. The gods establish churches to protect the weak, women, and children. The Children of Steam implemented the Civil Code to safeguard livelihoods, and compensation for the injured and deceased has improved. Why, then, do people still suffer so greatly?"
"Because, in truth, no one cares about the people's lives," I replied.
He looked stunned, which I found strange.
Was it not obvious? Humans act for their own interests. The gods seek anchors and fame. Nobles allow a trickle of wealth to reach the masses. Roselle's laws and subsidies exist only to fuel the people's fervor for war. No one acts for the people themselves.
I assumed he would understand, so I said nothing more.
"Okay... okay. What you say... Perhaps..." He fell silent for five minutes, his thoughts shattering and reassembling. "Then... how do we change this?"
"Change?" I asked. "Why change it? The people are as common and abundant as blades of grass. They do not need care. Burned by fire, drowned by water, or killed by disease, there will always be survivors. They will rebuild, forage, reproduce. Given time, they will thrive again. A cheap, renewable resource—why trouble ourselves over them?"
His eyes widened. His worldview, long held, was crumbling. His emotions shifted rapidly before his face drained of color.
"Is that truly how you see the people?"
Richard regained his composure but quickly began thinking aloud. "Has it always been like this? Do the gods and the powerful view humanity in such a way?"
"You could see it that way."
"No... no, it doesn't seem right." He hesitated. "What about you, Teacher? You've always been different. As a demon, you kill only to a point, and you do not revel in it. As an angel, a mythical subordinate god, you never care for your followers or sect. If gods act only for their own interests, why do you not need anchors?"
...Righteous God? I sneered inwardly.
"Because I am a god greater than any upon this planet," I said calmly. It was a ridiculous claim to make as a mere Sequence 2 Devil, but Devils are, by nature, mad and unreasonable. "The weak cling to their humanity because they must rely on it to survive. They are cowardly and hypocritical, sustained by humans yet unable to love them equally."
"I do not need humanity. I understand it."
"But if you seek to save the people, I have another doctrine to explain to you." Before he could sink into despair, I changed my approach. He was talented and persuasive. Among the temperance faction's fugitives, he had gained some renown, despite rejection from others. He had survived, resisted the indulgent faction's pursuit. A valuable pawn. Worth shaping. I could afford to waste a little time reorienting his understanding.
"What is it?" he asked eagerly.
"The world is in an era of righteousness."
"I know." He nodded, the good student. "Mr. Roselle coined the term. It's epoch-making."
I was speechless for a moment before continuing. "Theoretically, there exists a superior form of society above it. It is considered humanity's ultimate, perfect state. In the Era of the Righteous Lord, material resources are abundant, and no one starves or freezes. Education is universal, and competition unnecessary. No one must toil endlessly. If everyone works just eight hours a day, all can be provided for."
"...My God. A world where all are fed, clothed, educated, and free from grueling labor? I can't imagine it." Richard muttered. "When will this era come?"
"Never come."
His face fell.
"In such an age, all would be equal. No one would need gods. And if humans do not need gods, what purpose do gods serve?"
Sweat beaded on his forehead. "You mean... the gods won't allow it? That day will never come because humans will no longer need them? Are we... doomed?"
I smiled. Instead of answering directly, I gestured for him to come closer.
"Some will be saved—the rich and the devout. Now that you understand this path leads nowhere, do you still wish to continue learning?"
He hesitated for two seconds before nodding resolutely.
"Very well. We begin with capital. First, surplus value is..."
71
"On the 29th of October, the head of the Esoteric Order, Zaratul, visited me again in secret. I cannot guess his true intentions—it seems he only wanted to strengthen communication and understanding between the two sides?"
"I feel that Zaratul is more powerful and mysterious than the two church powerhouses I have ever met. His presence feels eerily similar to that of my demon fellow. So, I casually asked him if he was also an angel, without much hope of getting an answer—and he answered me!"
"He said he was the 'Miracle Invoker' of Sequence 2!"
"Sequence 2? He—no, 'He'—is an angel too! I'm surrounded by two angels, and I suspect there must be some deeper reason behind this that I don't understand."
"'Miracle Invoker'? A master of miracles? The name of this potion is intriguing! Is this Sequence 2 of the 'Seer' pathway?"
"I tentatively asked Zaratul if the miracle he invoked was a miracle of fate. Is the soothsayer's path a way to gradually understand and manipulate fate? Skipping the first question, Zaratul told me that fate is only a part of the 'Soothsayer' path and that the pathway that truly represents fate is the 'Monster'!"
"He gave several examples of the 'Monster' pathway: Sequence 7, 'Lucky One'; Sequence 5, 'Winner'; Sequence 2, 'Soothsayer'; and at the top of the sequence, 'Snake of Mercury'! This is the first Sequence 1 I have come to know of, and it completely astounds me!"
"Zaratul possesses an incredible amount of coveted knowledge. Out of curiosity about the demon fellow—well, I admit I'm still a little jealous—I asked him for the name of Sequence 2 of the 'Devil' pathway."
"He looked at me as if he could see right through my thoughts. He bluntly stated that it was because of the existence of his fellow villager (Edward) that he postponed the time of his first visit. Devils are always crazy and cold-blooded, after all. He said that he didn't know much about Sequence 2 of the 'Devil' pathway, but he did know the name of Sequence 1: 'Filthy Monarch.' It's an incredible name—it sounds like the final boss of a dungeon RPG! To truly embody the 'Filthy Monarch,' does the demon fellow intend to establish a demonic empire? Hiss... just thinking about it sends chills down my spine."
"..."
"As far as I know, the 'Monster' pathway should be in the hands of the Life School. They also seem to have partial sequences of the 'Planter' pathway and advocate the threefold division of the absolute rational world, the spirit world, and the material world. Well, I have to admit, it's a pretty cool concept."
"Zaratul also added, quite meaningfully, that the Life School worships the moon. But why the Moon? Why not the Goddess of the Night?"
The long diary was finally finished, and the amount of information was overwhelming. Once again, Klein experienced the sensation of having his mind stuffed with knowledge. For the first time, he had learned the name of a Sequence 1 potion—and not just one, but two!
"'Snake of Mercury' and 'Filthy Monarch'... Both sound incredibly formidable. Though 'Miracle Invoker' is also powerful, it somehow feels less imposing than 'Soothsayer.' I wonder what the name of Sequence 1 of the Soothsayer pathway is..."
From the long-known sequence names of the 'Monster' pathway, Klein judged that Zaratul was not lying. The diary contained even more valuable information, such as the fact that Extraordinary traits could be passed down to offspring. This helped answer some lingering doubts about Extraordinary creatures and aligned with the principle that the number of traits remains unchanged. As he continued flipping through the pages, he also discovered that the current 'King of the Five Seas,' Nast Solomon, had been born during the era of Emperor Roselle and was now a high-ranking powerhouse over one hundred and fifty years old!
After finishing this batch of diary entries, Klein's countless emotions were masked by the gray fog. He paused for a moment, tapped his fingers lightly on the surface of the long bronze table, and smiled.
"I'm going to issue a mission."
"Mission?!" Audrey's eyes widened, a mix of apprehension and excitement washing over her. At the same time, she noticed that while Mr. 'Hanged Man' appeared calm, in reality, he had grown tense. Only 'Sun' remained ignorant, treating everything as usual.
"You can choose to accept it or not." With the help of the Joker's ability, Klein maintained a normal tone. "One of my Blessed has arrived in Backlund. He wishes to accomplish something, but it would be inconvenient for him to act directly."
Seeing that Miss 'Justice' and the others remained silent, each deep in thought, Klein issued his mission:
"What he wants to accomplish is to assassinate the ambassador of the Republic of Intis to the Kingdom of Loen—Bekron Jean Martin."
————
A fragment of memory.
In the beginning, Richard was just an ordinary good man. Later, he learned to reach beyond his limits and, like a moth drawn to a flame, threw himself into the fire.
Re-edit: Oh, oh, yes! I've always felt that Edward's character gives me a familiar feeling. After thinking about it carefully white on the outside, black on the inside, + have a scary hobby in some way + a very good appearance and personality + a middle-aged man who can fight very well + his wife died and had a child + the white cross.
Edward: Isn't this a standard trope?