"Hu——"
After a long breath, Edward exhaled the stifling gloom lodged in his chest, shook himself awake, and gathered his spirit.
From here on, he truly had no choice but to settle down honestly in this era—act, digest, search for Lilith…oh, and track down two Sequence 3 Beyonder characteristics.
The Wanderer's characteristic (potion) might still have to be sought from the Abraham family during this period. As for the Dream Weaver…should he turn to the Psychology Alchemists? The Mind Dragon? Or that Russian priest?—none of which would be easy.
For most people, advancing to Sequence 3 was already an immense trial. But him? He needed to do it twice.
Sure enough, there are no bargains in this world. To enjoy the strength of dual pathways, one must shoulder the double burden of digestion and advancement.
Fair enough.
———
Half an hour later, Edward checked out of the inn.
Since he'd clearly have to live long-term in this era, he couldn't possibly stay in a hotel forever. His first step had to be renting—or outright buying—a house.
And the type of place he rented would directly shape his next moves.
At this time, to rent a house you either went door to door asking each family, or you sought out a tooth broker, who would take you around to available properties. Essentially, they were private middlemen—not official institutions like in the future, where every city had regulated rental agencies.
Edward altered his appearance, reshaping his features into a more mature, angular face. He grew coarse black stubble across his upper lip and chin, becoming the picture of a man in his thirties. Then, he hailed a carriage to the southern part of Trier, the market district.
The moment he stepped into a tooth-broker's office, several brokers swarmed him, maps of Trier in hand, enthusiastically recommending properties—most of them on the city's outskirts.
"Stop, stop, stop. Does anyone have listings in Avenue du Boulevard, Quartier de la Maison d'Opéra, Quartier de l'Observatoire, or Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative? Duplex or detached villas, doesn't matter."
At once, their enthusiasm dimmed.
Avenue du Boulevard lay in Trier's very heart—home only to nobles and the wealthy elite. Houses there only ever came on the market when their owners went bankrupt or fell into ruin—and even then, they were swiftly bought up by other rich families.
Hardly any ever reached the brokers' hands.
"No? Not even one?"
The brokers conferred in low tones. Finally, one answered respectfully, "Honoured sir, there certainly are homes for rent or sale in Avenue du Boulevard, but such properties usually change hands only among the nobility. They rarely make their way to us tooth-brokers."
"Yes, truly, sir, you'd be better off considering nearby districts. They're not far at all."
Edward thought for a moment.
"I'd still prefer to focus on those three districts. If you don't have anything, I'll just try elsewhere."
He turned to leave.
"Wait!"
A moustachioed broker suddenly remembered something.
"I just recalled—there is a villa in Avenue du Boulevard that's been vacant for two months now."
"Which one? Ah—you mean that one…but…"
The man hurried forward with a map, pointing eagerly.
"Honoured sir, this villa sits on Rose Street, in the western part of Avenue du Boulevard. The surroundings are very quiet. If you dislike being disturbed, it's the perfect choice."
Edward arched a brow.
"What's the catch?"
"Uh—someone died there. Heh. But really, which old house in Trier hasn't seen someone die in it? Hardly matters! The important part is that the price is cheap. Only one Felkin per week—far below similar properties."
…So, a haunted house, then.
Edward wasn't particularly bothered. With his current strength, even if he ran into a "ghost" of Medici's level, he'd have no trouble escaping.
"All right. Take me there."
The moustached broker briskly arranged a carriage, clearly desperate to close the deal. Along the way, he sang constant praises about the property's advantages and bargain price.
"Honoured sir, you're not from Trier, are you?" he asked cautiously.
"Then you may not know—Roselle, the so-called Son of Steam, lives in Avenue du Boulevard. Of course, it's some distance from the villa you'll be seeing, but still—you'd technically be neighbours."
Edward chuckled.
"Neighbours? Separated by a dozen streets?"
"Er…well…"
In truth, Edward's reasons for wanting Avenue du Boulevard were simple.
First, pure luck—if Lilith really were to contact Roselle, living nearby at least increased his chances of encountering her.
Second, he intended to replicate Klein's future identity of Dwayne Dantès: become a noble, establish ties with the Church, and then find a chance to legitimately borrow Arrodes. After all, he only needed to ask the mystical mirror a few questions, not steal it.
———
Half an hour later, their carriage stopped before No. 7 Rose Street: a somewhat desolate villa.
Much larger than the townhouse Edward had rented in Backlund's Empress Borough, this villa boasted not only a private garden, but also quarters for servants and slaves.
From the tended walls and garden, it was clear that though uninhabited, the property was still regularly maintained. Naturally—if old houses like these weren't cared for, they would decay beyond value quickly.
"These rooms are for servants and slaves…that one's the tool shed…and here…"
The moustached broker rattled off the introductions smoothly. After circling the grounds, they arrived at the front door.
Steeling himself, the broker produced a key, unlocked the oak door, and pushed it open.
The hinges groaned with a drawn-out creak as a wave of stale air, thick with mold and dust, poured out to meet them.
Since the door was already open, the broker decided there was no point in being afraid anymore. He hurried inside, opening each of the windows while continuing his introduction:
"Sir, I've already told you most of this house's advantages on the way here. Its only flaw is that the previous occupant was murdered inside. So of course, the wealthy don't want to live here, while those who aren't wealthy enough simply can't afford it.
"But I swear to you, the quality of this house is truly first-rate."
Edward took a slow walk around the interior. For some reason, a trace of sadness welled up in his chest. If Lilith were here, she would be darting all around by now—running up and down the stairs, exploring every corner with curiosity.
He opened his Spirit Vision and confirmed there were no lingering resentful spirits in the building. A brief divination confirmed no hidden dangers either.
"Alright, I'll take it. Let's sign the contract," Edward said.
The moustached broker's face lit up with unrestrained excitement.
"Excellent, excellent! I already have the contract prepared. Normally, the owner himself should be here to sign, but he's delegated the entire property to our brokerage. All you need to do is sign here."
Edward accepted the pen, then casually pulled out a blank sheet of paper—actually a document forged with the Confundus Charm, serving as proof of identity—and handed it over to the broker. He signed his name:
"Klein Sparrow."
When living abroad, identity is whatever you make it.
He paid half a year's rent upfront without a second thought, sending the broker off amidst endless bows and thanks.
"Time for some remodelling."
A series of cleansing spells washed away years of dust and mustiness. Then, with a few waves of his wand, the oppressive and outdated furnishings warped and reshaped into something far more to his taste—resembling the cosy little villa he once had in Backlund's Empress Borough.
With Edward's current strength, large-scale Transfiguration involving only mundane objects was easy to maintain for a very long time.
"Dinner out, then a proper rest. After that, I should pay a visit to the newspapers."
He was just about to leave, already dressed, when something struck his mind.
"Wait. I've been meaning to test the effect of 'Hearth' all this time…but I've been too busy. Since I'm free now, I might as well try it."
There were four special destinations available to him:
The Astral Plane—out of the question, it would be throwing himself into the lion's den.
The Sea of Collective Subconsciousness—too risky, the Dragon of Imagination had left contingencies there.
The Harry Potter world—not currently accessible.
Which left only one option: Calderón City in the Spirit World.
Though without Phoenix, danger was inevitable, Edward was confident he could retreat in time if necessary.
"Would I…meet the Phoenix of this era?"
With a single thought, his body shifted into Spirit form.
"Hearth."
In the blink of an eye, his figure vanished from the villa. A brief blur, less than a second, and he stood amidst the deep Spirit World—Calderón City. Not far away, the same ruined, crumbling walls stood, seemingly unchanged from what they would look like two centuries later.
He quickly scanned his surroundings, searching for a small black bird. But there was nothing.
Not here? Or perhaps…it hasn't been born yet?
Two hundred years might seem unbearably long to ordinary humans, but to an ancient city like this, it was no more than a fleeting breath.
"Hearth works with no casting delay at all. It's not traversing the Spirit World—it's true instantaneous teleportation. Likely immune to any 'Teleportation Bans.' Perfect for escape."
"No cooldown, no limits—well, aside from requiring Spirit form, which is limitation enough."
As he reflected on the experience, Edward suddenly sensed a faint, insidious force gnawing at his body.
He tried stealing the erosion away, but fresh waves came flooding in immediately after.
Fortunately, to truly threaten someone of his level—Sequence 4—this corruption would take a considerable amount of time. Enough for him to leave safely.
Rising into the air, Edward quickly ascended above the ruined city. Massive, pallid stone pillars pierced the darkness, reminders of Calderón's once glorious majesty.
As he climbed higher still, he once again saw that river in the darkness—nearly dried to nothing. Countless wandering souls drifted along the barren riverbed.
"…So even two hundred years ago, the tributary of the River of Eternal Darkness was already like this?"
But why? Who caused such a calamity, and for what reason?
Edward suddenly realised he had overlooked a crucial point. Since this was a tributary, it must connect directly to the River's main flow.
If the tributary was dried up…did that mean the main channel was also compromised? Or worse, was it precisely the drying of the main current that had led to this desolation in its branches?
But that river was a Sefirot!
After a long silence, Edward shook his head.
"Forget it. That's the Evernight Goddess's problem. I'd best focus on surviving myself."
He stepped forward, reappearing beside the crumbling wall once again. After a moment's hesitation, he drew out his one and only spare wand and placed it carefully against the stone.
Phoenix had once fallen into peril protecting Lilith—its fate uncertain.
This was all Edward could do for now. If fate allowed them to meet again, he would return the Resurrection Stone ring to it at once.
He waited for over ten minutes before his form blurred and vanished, leaving the Spirit World.
Not long after his departure, the silent tributary of the River of Eternal Darkness suddenly stirred. Black waves rose, and the wandering souls on either bank turned their heads in unison—then fell to their knees.
A long while later, a lump of black liquid emerged from the pitch-black waters, leaping ashore. It rolled rapidly toward Calderón City, heading straight for the broken wall.
"Chirp!"
The instant it "saw" the wand, the black liquid let out an excited cry and shot forward, engulfing it.
In seconds, the liquid solidified, hardening into a black egg.
Ten seconds later, the egg dissolved back into liquid, seeping into the ground until nothing remained.
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.