In an unremarkable guesthouse in Bayam, Roy King of the Life School of Thought sat by the window with a mug of beer in hand, drinking while admiring the crimson moon hanging in the sky tonight.
After weeks of living in fear, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Ever since his teacher entrusted him with that peculiar die, Roy had been on edge—on one hand, worried the die would roll a small number and bring disaster; on the other, afraid someone coveting it would catch him and steal it, dashing his teacher's hopes.
Fortunately, after running into that pirate named Alger, his luck had taken a turn for the better. The die—always scheming to get him killed—hadn't rolled less than a four since, allowing him to spend a relatively peaceful time in Bayam…as long as he didn't try to take a passenger ship to Oravi Island.
Every time he went to the docks, the die would spin wildly in his pocket, threatening to roll a one. That was when Roy King became certain—this Sealed Artifact of a die actually had a will of its own!
So, he could only wait—wait for his disciple to arrive, then hand the die over for him to take to Oravi. It wasn't that he wanted to dump the trouble onto his own disciple, but fate's instructions made it clear: only his disciple could accomplish this task.
And today, Roy King had finally passed the die to his disciple, Darkwill. The burden lifted from his shoulders at last, he exhaled in relief.
"Mhm…Sonia Bloodwine really does taste as good as they say!"
He downed the crimson drink in one gulp, let out a satisfied breath, and thought, Even if I get caught now, there's nothing left to worry about.
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock at the door. Roy King smiled slightly.
"Come in~"
The door creaked open. In came a chubby figure, wearing the black long robe of a rural witch doctor. He looked to be in his thirties, with black hair, brown eyes, a round face, a pudgy build, and a plump-eyed owl perched on his shoulder.
The moment Roy saw him, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
"Darkwill?! What are you doing here?!"
The chubby apothecary scratched his head in confusion.
"Uh…was I not supposed to come?"
"That's not it—how did you even find me?"
"I was just passing by outside, saw you drinking at the window, and thought I'd drop in."
Roy King: "…"
His face darkened.
"Didn't I tell you to head straight to Oravi after you got the thing? Why are you looking for me?"
Darkwill muttered, "Well, I went to the shop you told me to, but the guy there wanted 10 gold pounds for the die. I left home in such a hurry this time—I don't have that kind of money. And you didn't mention in your letter that I'd have to pay!"
As he spoke, he cast a guilty glance at the owl on his shoulder—all his money had gone into raising it.
Roy King let out a long breath of relief.
"So…you didn't get the die, right?"
"Of course—"
The chubby apothecary broke into a triumphant grin. "—Not at all! Haha, who am I? A seasoned apothecary! The moment I saw the shopkeeper, I could tell his kidneys were weak. I just gave him a few pills and he waived the 10 pounds!"
"Don't worry, old man, I handled it just fine." He fished out a delicate jewellery box from his coat. "Here's the die, safe and sound!"
"!!!"
Roy King almost passed out on the spot.
I finally, finally got rid of it—and you bring it straight back to me?!
Snatching the box, he flipped it open—inside, the die was showing a six. No wonder this brat found him so easily.
Click.
The die trembled, tipped over, and the number changed from six…to two.
In that instant, every hair on Roy King's body stood on end. He bolted for the door.
Darkwill was bewildered.
"What's wrong, old man?"
"If you don't want to die or get caught, run! You've gotten me into serious trouble this time!"
The master and disciple had barely made it out the door when they ran into two soldiers on night patrol. Their panicked appearance instantly drew suspicion.
"Hey! You two, stop right there for inspection!" one soldier barked.
Roy King didn't even think about stopping—he ran faster.
"Stop! You two, stop!"
One soldier shouted while the other pulled out a whistle and blew a sharp blast.
The peace of Bayam was broken.
———
In the Governor's Mansion.
Klein's first night impersonating Admiral Amyrius was far calmer than he had expected.
The admiral's mistress had been bitten by a rat and was resting in her own quarters, sparing Klein the trouble of having to deal with her. Secretary Lueran had only stopped by to report on the rat-catching progress and hadn't spoken to him much.
Following Amyrius's usual routine, Klein worked in the study until around ten, then got ready to head to bed.
That was when trouble arrived—again in the form of his secretary, Lueran. Compared to earlier, his hair was noticeably messier, suggesting he'd already gone to bed and been startled awake by urgent news, not even having time to fix himself up.
"Admiral, sir!" Lueran strode quickly into the study. "We've spotted Roy King!"
Roy King?
Who's that?
This question flashed through Klein's mind, but he quickly recalled that in the information Amyrius had left behind, there was only a brief mention that they were looking for this man. Beyond that, nothing else had been said.
He nodded. "Where is he?"
"…We lost him. The last place he was seen was Tulip Street."
Klein said in a steady voice, "Keep looking."
"Yes, Admiral."
"The next time you come to me, I expect you to be telling me you've caught him."
"Understood."
Klein waved his hand dismissively, and Lueran quickly left.
Once the blond secretary had gone far enough, Klein hurried back to the desk and pulled out the information on Roy King: 'Roy King, member of the Life School of Thought, wanted in connection with certain classified matters.'
Sure enough, the intel was minimal.
The Life School of Thought…Klein only knew it was an old Beyonder organisation with a master–apprentice system. He still remembered that kindhearted—yet utterly incapable of speaking properly—chubby apothecary he'd met back in Backlund, who likely belonged to this very group.
"I wonder why Amyrius wants to arrest someone from the Life School of Thought. Hopefully, I won't have to face that question…otherwise, it'll be far too easy to give myself away."
BOOM!!
A clap of thunder erupted, and a howling wind rushed in through the window, making the pages in the study rustle and flap violently.
Klein frowned. The next moment, the study door slammed open, and a tall, broad-shouldered middle-aged man in the Church of Storm's priestly robes strode in, his face filled with anger and his body radiating an unrestrained, tempestuous aura.
"Admiral Amyrius!"
The man's voice was cold. "Why did you suddenly rescind the bounty on Gehrman Sparrow?"
Klein's mind worked quickly, recalling information about the man before him: Cardinal of the Church of the Lord of Storms, the true ruler of the Beyonder world in the Rorsted Archipelago—Saint 'Sea King' Jahn Kottman.
Of course, as a Loen Navy admiral, Amyrius wouldn't actually be afraid of him. After all, the two were not in a subordinate relationship. Thus Klein replied evenly, "Your Eminence Kottman, for something as minor as rescinding a bounty, is it really worth you personally coming all the way here?"
Kottman's voice remained cold. "Why did you cancel it?"
"Sorry, but this is an internal matter of the Loen military. I don't believe it requires your approval, does it?"
Kottman's beard and hair began to stir despite the absence of wind, and a prickling, needle-like pressure swept over Klein, making it difficult to breathe.
But Klein simply looked steadily into those deep blue eyes and said nothing.
"…Very well! I hope you won't regret this!"
Through gritted teeth, Kottman spat out the words before striding out in a single step, vanishing once more into the storm and lightning.
Klein let out a long breath. Wasn't the plan to safely impersonate Amyrius just by quietly staying in the governor's mansion?
It was only the first day, and already a Church of Storm's Saint had pressed down on his head with a threat?
Safe, my foot!
Speaking of which…had his actions just now gotten Admiral Amyrius into trouble with the Sea King?
Hopefully, he won't blame me…
———
The next morning, Edward awoke to find that the digestion progress of his potion had advanced another step. It seemed that after several days of online lessons, quite a few people had truly understood and absorbed the knowledge he'd taught.
Alongside his happiness at the potion's digestion, Edward also felt a touch of pride—after all, the greatest joy of being a teacher was seeing your students internalise what you had taught them.
After breakfast, he used a spirit world coordinate to directly teleport to the port of Oravi Island. Pulling out a walking stick, he performed a dowsing spell:
"Location of Ricciardo."
The walking stick tilted slightly, pointing toward a magnificent clock tower painted primarily in red, blue, and yellow.
"Right…in the original, Klein and the others also came to a clock tower first."
Edward took a step forward and appeared more than ten meters away from the tower. This time, the walking stick tilted again, pointing in a new direction. Rather than Blinking straight there, he followed where the stick indicated, skirting around the tower toward a nearby stone bridge.
When he was still forty to fifty meters from the bridge, a slightly strange voice called out:
"Young man, if I were you, I'd never go near that bridge."
Edward turned his head to see an ugly-looking man standing atop the clock tower. The man was cloaked in black, with legs clearly mismatched in length, one arm thick and the other thin—his entire body grotesquely asymmetrical.
The bell-ringer Carnot?
He was a "homunculus" created through the Church of the Earth Mother's human body creation methods—one of the original author's little dark jokes, it seemed.
Edward tipped his hat in greeting. "Why, sir?"
"Heh, that bridge is cursed. Anyone who passes will suffer misfortune. In the past two days, six unlucky sods have either broken their legs there or fallen into the water and nearly drowned."
In truth, this was because the councillor named "Ricciardo" had been injured, causing his powers to spiral out of control—anyone entering a certain range of him would be tainted with bad luck.
"Thank you for the warning. I'll be careful."
Edward put his hat back on and continued toward the bridge.
The ugly bell-ringer muttered, "Hmph! Humans are always like this."
He didn't try to persuade him further, instead leaning on the clock tower's railing, watching quietly, eager to see what misfortune would befall the young man.
But then he saw the youth bypass the bridge entirely and head straight toward the arch beneath it. His expression changed immediately, and he hurried down, limping rapidly—Was this brat trying to get himself killed?!
Edward, however, didn't foolishly charge into the bridge arch. He stopped a few meters away and called out, "Excuse me, is Councillor Ricciardo here?"
From deep within the shadowed arch came a hoarse voice. "I am. Who are you looking for?"
"Councillor Ricciardo, your President sent me to collect something from you."
There was a pause, as though the man inside was surprised. After a moment, the hoarse voice replied, "…You're too early. That thing hasn't come into my possession yet."
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.