Before Edward could respond, Amon said casually, "Still, you did get one thing right. You really can gamble. In fact, aside from those on the Marauder pathway, I rarely go out of my way to kill."
Edward stood silently, rising to his feet. In his hand now appeared a pitch-black puppet.
"The power of Ouroboros?" Amon chuckled. "You're hoping "He" will save you? Give it up. Every time the Hanged Man slumbers, He's always there, standing guard."
Symbols—strange and innumerable—flickered rapidly across Amon's eyes.
"No, there's more…some sort of Outer God's power? What a complicated mixture you are."
Edward tossed the black puppet up and down in his hand. "Do you know what your father originally meant when he called Sequence 0 of the Marauder pathway a BUG?"
For the first time, Amon's eyes rippled with visible shock.
"What did you say?"
Swish!
At nearly the same instant, Edward hurled the black puppet toward Amon. But before it got within a few meters of him, it was torn to pieces by an invisible force.
"Heh…so you do know about the bug. Looks like today's haul is far greater than I expected."
Ding-Ding—
The copper bell began ringing loudly.
Edward flicked a coin into the air.
"If I defeat the Amon before me, all his parasitised avatars will be neutralised."
The result landed with the number facing up—negative.
Reverse!
Amon froze.
A faint, inexplicable sense of danger flickered through him.
"What did you do?"
The next moment, Edward pulled out the painting frame and channelled spirituality into it.
In the blink of an eye, Amon vanished—sucked into the world within the painting.
"The Box of the Great Old Ones!"
Edward shouted.
Bernadette instantly opened the Box of the Great Old Ones and caught the painting frame Edward had thrown. The entire process looked as though the box completely ignored Edward's existence—focusing only on the object.
Snap.
The Box of the Great Old Ones shut.
Without hesitation, Bernadette hurled it into the Spirit World.
"Did we succeed…?"
Edward flipped a coin for confirmation.
The coin landed with the head side up—positive.
Amon…was really sealed inside the Box of the Great Old Ones?
Or was this just another of his deceptions?
For once, Edward found himself doubting his own divination.
Just then, Worm of Time began wriggling out of thin air—one after another. But as soon as they appeared, they shrivelled rapidly and lost all vitality.
Edward turned to look—only to be overcome by a sudden itch deep in his throat, followed by a violent coughing fit. The spasms were so intense it felt as if his heart would burst.
Cough, cough, cough!
Lilith, too, stuck her head out from his arms, hacking violently.
After nearly a minute of agony, both man and cat coughed up the same thing: a creature identical to the dried-up Worm of Time scattered across the ground.
Each was roughly finger-sized and thick, with translucent rings circling their segmented bodies—twelve in total.
Edward's pupils contracted sharply.
When?!
When did Amon parasitise both him and Lilith?!
The hairs on his body stood on end.
Of course—if Amon could silently parasitise high-sequence Moon City residents, how could he and Lilith have escaped?
No wonder Amon had been so easily "lured out" by his speech—"He" had already completed the parasitism long ago. For Amon, this was a game in which "He" couldn't lose. But as a true trickster, Amon clearly cared more about how "He" won. "He" wanted to savour the process—the thrill of deceit.
Still, if the parasitism had already been completed, shouldn't Amon have already detected the uniqueness of the Door pathway in his body? Why was "He" still acting curious?
Was it just for fun?
Or was "He" genuinely unable to sense it, due to some unknown reason?
Or…had Mr. Door been lying about the uniqueness all along?
At that moment, Bernadette spoke nonchalantly, "The ability I used earlier to block his theft—it's a mystical re-enactment I recently completed, called Bell That Covers the Ears."
Edward blinked, then suddenly understood.
She was explaining why she hadn't asked him to record this power during their previous encounters with demigods capable of theft—it hadn't been completed back then.
"Let's get out of here," she said calmly. "Since Amon's avatar still exists in the Forsaken Land, it's possible "His" other avatars already know what just happened."
"Yeah."
Edward hesitated before asking, "Do you think the High Priest and the others…are still parasitised?"
"Thinking of going back to check?"
"I mean…"
A flicker of guilt rose in Edward's heart. The people of Moon City had been dragged into this mess because of him. But guilt wasn't a good enough reason to act recklessly, was it?
Bernadette waved her hand, collecting the dozen or so shrivelled Worm of Time from the ground. "Let's go take a look. If they're still parasitised, that means trapping Amon's avatar in the painting and sealing it in the Box of the Great Old Ones was just another of the Angel of Time's games."
Edward thought about it. She was right.
But knowing Amon, even if the Moon City citizens turned out to be fine, there was still no guarantee it wasn't part of another deception.
Damn it, he thought bitterly. There's no such thing as a clean break once Amon gets involved…
———
Meanwhile, deep beneath the round tower of City of Silver—
Inside a narrow, sealed room, silence reigned. Even the sound of breathing had become faint to the point of vanishing. In the corner, a withered, elderly figure lay curled on a narrow bed, still as death.
Suddenly, his eyes snapped open.
Though clouded with age, his gaze shimmered with profound depth—gazing through layers of stone and far, far beyond.
His fingers began tapping the wall softly—tap, tap, tap—as the corners of his mouth curled in a half-smile.
"Oh? One of my avatars…disappeared without warning? Without leaving even a trace of information?"
He asked himself aloud, "Was it the Hanged Man?"
Then quickly answered, "No…"He" wouldn't bother with me. That makes this far more interesting."
Sitting up and stretching lazily, he said with a chuckle, "In that case, the main body will surely have to handle this personally."
"Heh…if the main body vanishes too, maybe with my qualifications, I could even win the Council's vote and become the next one."
"…What an exciting prospect."
———
Edward and Bernadette returned once more to the barrier.
Several Moon City warriors were still lying unconscious on the ground. By each of their mouths lay a shrivelled Worm of Time, evidently just expelled not long ago.
Edward cast Rennervate on each of them in turn.
The moment the warriors regained consciousness, they instinctively reached for their weapons, glaring at the two outsiders with suspicion.
"Someone attacked us."
Edward quickly explained, "A demigod from the Marauder pathway."
Though Amon was a King of Angels, the avatar just now had only possessed the strength of Sequence 4.
Nim raised a hand, motioning for the warriors to stand down. His greyish-white eyes were filled with solemnity. "A single demigod from the Marauder pathway shouldn't have been able to catch us all off guard like that."
"You must have records on the Angel of Time in Moon City," Edward said. "That demigod Marauder just now—that was one of "His" avatars."
Nim froze for a moment. Then it clicked. "Ah…that one. That makes much more sense."
He paused, then asked, "Did you manage to destroy the avatar?"
Edward gave a bitter smile. "Honestly? I can't be sure. I can't determine if everything we experienced just now was part of one of "His" tricks."
"…"
Nim said nothing for a while.
He had read ancient texts in Moon City that described the Angel of Time—fragmented, elusive records that nonetheless hinted at what kind of being "He" was.
And he had to admit: facing someone so powerful and so malicious in nature…was enough to make anyone despair.
"I suggest you all return to Moon City at once," Edward said. "Use whatever Sealed Artifacts you have to perform a full-body diagnostic on yourselves."
He paused slightly, then added, "You do have such Sealed Artifacts in Moon City, right?"
High Priest Nim nodded. "Understood. So, Lord Edward…you're not coming with us?"
Edward sighed. "That Angel of Time seems to have targeted me specifically. If I go back with you, I'll only bring disaster to Moon City. I came here to spread the light and glory of my god—to bring hope, not calamity."
"…I understand."
Nim gave a solemn bow, fingers crossed reverently in front of his chest. "Then we shall await your god's next messenger in Moon City."
The people of Moon City departed.
To lead Moon City through such a harsh and hopeless environment, a High Priest needed more than strength and wisdom—he needed discernment and decisive judgment.
Perhaps Nim still didn't fully trust Edward. But as Edward said, his arrival had brought hope to Moon City. And where there was hope, there was the power to rekindle long-eroded anticipation. And with anticipation, came the future.
Bernadette asked calmly, "Where shall we go next?"
Edward thought for a moment. "We can't stay anywhere near Moon City. Let's put some distance between us. I have faith that the being I worship will respond to me soon. Maybe…we'll be able to leave the Forsaken Land."
As for that strange sensation he'd been picking up from afar, he hadn't yet decided whether to investigate it. After all, curiosity kills the cat—he understood that better than anyone. But then again, since Amon's avatar had already shown up…could the distant signal really be from another Amon?
Wouldn't that be redundant?
Or perhaps…that was exactly the kind of thing Amon enjoyed—laying traps and waiting for people of the Marauder pathway to stumble into them.
Bernadette asked, "Why not head for the other city in the Forsaken Land? If you recreate the teachings of Moon City there, it might help you digest your potion more effectively."
"But there's supposedly another Amon avatar lurking in the City of Silver. If we go there, it'd be like walking into a trap."
"…Makes sense."
"Oh, right—Your Majesty," Edward asked, "do you have any abilities that provide anti-divination effects? I know it might not stop Amon, but even psychological comfort would help."
A flash of light crossed Bernadette's deep blue eyes, and in the next moment, a spectral image of a white horse passed over the bodies of the two humans and one cat.
Another mystical re-enactment—one not mentioned in the original records: The White Horse That Is Not a Horse.
It could conceal a target's presence and make them less susceptible to divination.
Edward watched, envious and itching with curiosity. Just from the stories she'd heard from Emperor Roselle alone, Bernadette could manifest so many diverse mystical reproductions.
If it were me, he thought, with all the myths, fairy tales, fables, and legends I've read—wouldn't I become invincible just by copying from them?
The thought gave him an idea. He asked, "Your Majesty, do you happen to have any of the Cards of Blasphemy made by Emperor Roselle?"
Bernadette gave a subtle nod, but replied coolly, "Didn't you already take the Black Emperor card? Why do you need another one?"
She paused. "The Door card isn't in my possession."
Edward cried out in protest, "Wait, how is the Black Emperor card mine?! You saw it yourself that night—someone else took it!"
Bernadette stared at him wordlessly, expression blank.
"…"
Lilith, curled up in Edward's arms, glanced left and right with her round eyes.
In her little feline heart, she was thinking: Should I try using my Instigation ability on them? Maybe that would help me digest the rest of my potion…
———
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