Achievement unlocked: Second time fleecing Medici!
Nearly a quarter of the Secrets Sorcerer Potion was digested in one go—without even deliberately playing the riddler, without putting on an air of mystery or secrecy.
—Special thanks to Angel of Time and old pal Medici, for the rocket boost.
But…I wonder, can this kind of "wool" still be harvested again next time?
Wait.
Edward suddenly thought of something:
The Sequence 4 potion digested so much just by meeting Medici once. Then why, back when he was role-playing Sequence 7 Madman, did digesting barely progress at all despite being around Medici?
That doesn't really add up.
Could it be that the Lunatic potion…is even more "special"?
Edward frowned and thought for a while but found no answer. He could only set that question aside for now as another surfaced:
How exactly is a "Spiritmancer" supposed to role-play?
———
DONG. DONG. DONG.
A clock tower from a nearby house rang eleven times—it was mealtime again.
Edward wandered into a bustling restaurant and ordered steak, Desi pie, and mushroom soup. To be honest, the food tasted much better than what he'd had in Intis.
Apparently, even within the same era, different nations' culinary skills varied a lot.
The restaurant bustled with customers, most of them chatting about gossip and especially the latest news from Intis about the Son of Steam.
Topics revolved around his newest inventions, his groundbreaking creations, and the shocking feats he'd accomplished.
From their tone, however, most were frustrated that Roselle's inventions hadn't yet spread to Loen—blaming the Loen officials as brainless fools.
"Even if you let a curly-haired baboon take office, it'd make better choices than those officials who only fight for power and purge rivals every day."
"Hahahaha! Cruse Hall, if you've got the guts, why don't you become an official yourself? Let's see if you can really do better than that curly-haired baboon!"
The speaker, Cruse Hall, was a blond young man with blue eyes—handsome and in his twenties, looking rather hot-blooded.
"Of course I'll try, but…the time isn't right yet."
"Hahahaha!"
Hearing this, Edward glanced at him a few more times.
In Backlund, someone surnamed Hall again?
Tsk. Could this young man be the ancestor of Audrey's family from two hundred years later?
It was hard to tell just by looks, since blond hair and blue eyes were fairly common in Loen.
After the young men finished their meal and left, the restaurant quieted down, finally giving Edward some room to think.
From Medici's words, it was certain that Lilith had been active during the Fourth Epoch, and apparently, she had a decent relationship with Medici.
Considering the Diaries and later events:
At first, Lilith and Cheek likely got along, until the struggle over the Primordial Demoness's throne completely tore them apart—or perhaps, more likely, Cheek had only ever pretended to be close, planning all along to use Lilith.
After all, Lilith had read the Blasphemy Slate and knew the entire formula sequence of the Witch pathway.
So, Cheek turning against her wasn't strange.
The strange part was—why did the Russian Priest and Amon join forces with Cheek to take her down?
That's the real mystery.
And Medici wouldn't reveal it easily. As an old conspirator, once he realised Edward truly wanted information on Lilith, he'd surely dangle it as bait—just like he dangled the Red Priest card in the future.
So, who else could Edward ask?
Mr. Door?
The Russian Priest himself?
Wouldn't He know when He held the next Twilight Hermit Order gathering?
Should Edward really attend with the Cross from the future in hand? Wouldn't the Russian Priest instantly realise he came from the future? And how would He treat him then?
Right—what about the uniqueness of the Door pathway? Surely, in this era, the Russian Priest would know about it.
Deep in thought, Edward finished his steak.
He looked at the restaurant's wall clock—12:30.
If he hadn't been dragged two centuries back, in just a few more hours he'd have to attend the Tarot Gathering.
He sighed. Would this Tarot Gathering be delayed two hundred years before he could attend on schedule again?
Unless…the Sefirah Castle could transcend time and directly summon his two-hundred-years-ago self up there.
That would be incredible. He couldn't imagine what kind of shockwave it would cause.
The Hanged Man, Alger, would surely interpret it as yet another unfathomable demonstration of the Fool's great power.
Bernadette…would she recall the terror of being confronted by an intruder in her villa nearly two hundred years ago?
Then Edward suddenly froze, pupils contracting sharply.
Wait—
Right now, in this era, the Sefirah Castle is masterless!
Back then, Huang "Roselle" Tao, the previous candidate, had chosen the "Savant" pathway and thus lost his qualification.
The next successor, Klein, wouldn't show up for nearly two centuries—currently just hanging somewhere like a piece of bacon.
So at this moment, the Sefirah Castle was unclaimed.
And as someone on the Door pathway, who knew the incantations to enter the Castle…
Didn't that mean the Sefirah Castle was essentially unguarded for him?
Edward instantly stood up, strode out of the restaurant, and cloaked the scene with False Reality, ensuring passersby saw nothing unusual.
He teleported back to his inn in Intis.
Sealing the room with spirituality, he stepped into the washroom.
Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, Edward began pacing counterclockwise in a square.
The first step—Edward whispered:
"The Immortal Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings;"
The second step:
"The Sky Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings;"
The third step:
"The Exalted Thearch of Heaven and Earth for Blessings;"
The fourth and final step, Edward intoned solemnly:
"The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."
Would it work?
Would he really log into the Sefirah Castle?
At that moment, the air around him froze. Time seemed to stop. The atmosphere thickened, sticky and strange.
Then, whispers poured into his ears—sometimes sharp and shrill, sometimes faint and illusory, sometimes seductive, sometimes manic, sometimes utterly mad.
But to a demigod like Edward, they weren't that harmful. Merely noisy.
Until…
The cacophony of whispers faded, and all became quiet again. An eerie, floating silence.
The next instant, boundless, infinite grey fog surged forward—thick, blurry, oppressive.
The fog flowed like water, dotted with countless crimson "stars." Some massive, some tiny. Some hidden deep within, some floating close to the surface.
—This…this was the very scene Klein first saw when he entered the Sefirah Castle.
Klein had automatically become its master upon entry.
So now, if Edward had logged in successfully, did that mean…he too had become the master of the Castle?
If so, wouldn't everything Klein could do here…be within his grasp as well?
Images of the future palace flashed in his mind: the grand and towering temple, the ancient bronze long table and chairs.
With a thought, stone pillars rose one by one, reaching into the fog-veiled dome.
A majestic, colossal hall stood tall like the throne room of some giant out of myth.
Beneath the dome, where grey fog swirled thickest, a bronze long table appeared—flanked by ten high-backed chairs on either side, with more set before and behind.
On the backs of the chairs, scarlet constellations glimmered—patterns that did not belong to reality.
It was the Tarot Gathering's hall, exactly as it would be in the future…
But wait.
There was a difference.
Opposite the bronze chair symbolising the Fool was another chair—equally massive, identical in design. The two bronze seats faced each other across the long table, a clear sign of equal standing.
Edward hesitated for a few seconds. Then, step by step, he walked along the long bronze table toward that extra seat.
"Was this…prepared especially for me?"
He couldn't quite tell whether the Sefirah Castle itself had manifested it—or whether, in subconsciously imagining the Tarot hall, he had instinctively created a second throne, separate from the Fool's.
Approaching, Edward sat down in the new bronze chair.
Immediately, the endless grey fog churned and rolled violently.
It was several minutes before the turbulence subsided.
Edward leaned back, propped his chin on his hand, imitating Klein's usual pose.
He looked at the empty seats around him…and smiled.
"Hello there, Mr. Fool."
This time…your home really has been stolen by me.
Minutes later, Edward exhaled deeply.
"Whew—time to get to business."
He focused, silently reciting his divination statement:
"Lilith's current location."
Then, leaning back, he let himself sink into the dream.
———
Year 1349, Future.
Monday, 3 PM.
With the start of the new week, figures appeared one by one in the eternal, fog-shrouded palace of the Sefirah Castle.
Klein sat at the Fool's seat.
Suddenly, his nose itched—an overwhelming urge to sneeze.
Thankfully, he held it back in time. After all, what would it look like if Mr. Fool sneezed in front of everyone?
Maintaining his calm, inscrutable air, Klein looked over the members as they took their seats, heart warming at the sight of them after a week of haze and chaos.
Then—
"Hm?" He froze, staring at two empty seats.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool~"
Audrey's cheerful voice rang out as usual. "Good afternoon, Mr. Tower~ Good afternoon, Mr. Ha—"
Her voice stopped abruptly.
She stared at the empty Tower's seat. Then turned to look at the Empress's seat—also empty.
Edward and Lilith…were absent.
Why hadn't they shown up to the Tarot Meeting?
A wave of panic rose in her chest. She turned to the Fool:
"Mr Fool, the Tower and Miss Empress…where are they?"
At her words, the others reacted too.
The Hanged Man instinctively recalled that mysterious primordial island—could it be that Mr. Tower had been sent on some secret mission?
Priscilla widened her eyes and looked around nervously.
Fors didn't think too much of it. To her, missing a gathering or two because of emergencies wasn't such a big deal.
Bernadette, however…thought quietly: So that's why Edward's absent. He must be caught up in something he couldn't escape from.
One after another, their thoughts ran, until finally all gazes turned toward Mr. Fool—awaiting his answer.
Klein frowned slightly.
The last time he had news of Edward was two nights ago. After that, unlike before, Edward hadn't come to him to "borrow" a Card of Blasphemy every other day.
He had been puzzled at the time, but assumed Edward was busy with something.
… Could it be something really happened?
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.