But there's still Benson and Melissa... — Klein's expression became complicated.
How could he leave them like this?
Melissa didn't even know much about the Beyonder world yet; she couldn't even pinpoint her own powers or how to avoid going mad.
Worse, what would happen if she went mad or perhaps joined a secret organization?
And then there was Benson, who couldn't support himself and Melissa on the money he earned as a clerk, and he hadn't yet found a better job and wouldn't for some time.
They couldn't stay stable without Klein for now.
— This... What do I do now? — he sighed internally.
Unfortunately, there wasn't much of a choice. Either he stayed at the church forever or he left and left Benson and Melissa.
With this in mind, he divined about the Clown's potion, out of sheer curiosity, but what he saw was strange.
Hanass Vincent was the one who sold the book to Klein, Naya, and Welch. And there was also another man involved in the exchange of information.
Because Hanass Vincent was dead, this man was their only lead. It was a middle-aged man in a neat suit, with thinning hair and gray eyes.
After learning this, he was apprehensive, but he still took this information to the Captain and the Nighthawks, and even managed to capture images of the man through a ritual for The Goddess.
Days passed, and Klein collected more evidence as time went by, until he went to the Evil Dragon Bar to search for information about the middle-aged man's whereabouts with the clues he had about the exchange of the Antigonus family notebook.
The skies were painted in shades of gray as always, threatening to drip water over all of Tingen.
People passed by in the streets, some worried, others simply enjoying the little time they had before returning to their tireless work in the factories.
In the distance, there were even hurried workers, who had probably lost track of time.
Klein could see the Evil Dragon Bar in the distance, and unsurprisingly, the Monster Ademisaul was nearby, half-standing beside the bar's gates with a confused expression while a girl showed him several papers at once, perhaps asking for help find some specific location.
Ademisaul must have noticed Klein approaching, as he fell to the ground, unresponsive for a few seconds, pale and completely frozen.
His clothes, which were now newer as if they had been bought recently, were a little dirty.
— I am sorry... For the blasphemy against The Lord...
— I won't look at You...
The girl gave a confused expression, then pretended nothing had happened as she walked past to get into a carriage.
Her hand trembled slightly.
Klein recognized her; it was the girl who had once asked for directions the day he was on the street with Adhara.
She seemed to look in several directions at once and climbed into the carriage with him, her deep-set, purple eyes holding a hint of cunning.
Klein didn't pay much attention; his eyes drifted to Ademisaul, who still looked as if he'd seen an entity worse than a demon.
Unfortunately, he couldn't focus too much on that, as a hand gently tapped him on the shoulder.
It was the girl; her delicate features seemed a little pale. Her dark hair, straight and soft, was loose.
— Sir, could you tell me what a witch looks like to you? — She seemed to remember something instantly, her eyes widening slightly.— Oh, no need, I already remembered. These are calamities and plagues...
She grabbed her book, titled "Book of Witches," and hurried out.
She could see some essential oils in her cloth bag, as well as other vials containing strange things.
Klein frowned indiscernibly, suspicious.
Is this girl in trouble?...— Just as he was about to touch his glabella, he heard a loud scream coming from behind him.
He stopped in his tracks, drawn by the commotion behind him.
With that, the girl left, getting into the carriage, her fingers trembling as if she were having a seizure, without even giving Klein a chance to say anything.
She didn't even look back, her carriage disappearing after a few seconds down another street, with another scream coming from behind.
Klein didn't have a chance to think about it; he turned to see a blonde haired, large-built man who had appeared out of nowhere, yelling at Ademisaul, who was still standing frozen.
The man was clearly drunk. He suddenly muttered something to himself, patted the trembling Ademisaul on the shoulder, and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Seeing this, Klein's mind spun in a bit of confusion, wondering what on earth had just happened.
What the... What just happened? — He shook his head and continued toward his destination.
He couldn't forget the case he was looking for.
Ademisaul hurriedly left, head down, into the bar, his legs so shaky he seemed to have no strength, heading straight for the bar, his nose dripping with fresh blood.
He looked as if he had seen death itself.
He almost crashed into the doorframe, but managed to get in quickly enough to close the door before Klein had a chance to react.
Does he think I'll pass all my bad luck on to him? — Klein self-deprecated, watching the back door slam shut without him even daring to step foot inside the bar.
He sighed, seeing Swain raise an eyebrow from behind the wooden counter in the direction Ademisaul had run, then turn back to the person he was talking to, seeming to have even more questions.
It was a woman with brown hair, neither short nor long, and striking features, her eyes now so closed it was as if she wished never to open them again.
Her clothes were normal, a long black dress with some dark and light brown accents, along with the dark leather boots on her feet.
She also had a large brown suitcase in her hands, the clasps black, while in her other hand were some papers.
— Sir, I feel that if I open my eyes now... I will encounter an Entity worse than any madness, I will encounter... The unknown itself among us mere mortals... — she murmured, her tone trembling and terrified.
Fresh sweat dripped from her forehead.
Klein narrowed his eyes in confusion, before having a hunch.
Maybe the demon the woman was talking about was him!
What had I done that was so terrible to always be called that? — Klein wondered, but then he went in anyway.
And there was another question: how could that woman see the same things as Ademisaul?
Was she a Monster too?
The woman, who seemed to be growing increasingly horrified, simply handed a piece of paper and the suitcase she was carrying to Swain and ran for the back doors as well, as if her sanity depended on it.
The knock was thunderous, and Klein could only hear the sound of keys more than twice.
He glanced at the door before squinting at the paper, which was now in Swain's hands.
There, in slightly blurred letters, but legible if you paid close attention, was written in Loenense:
"Sequence 9: Monster..."
"Ingredients: Five Flowes..."
Swain put the paper and the briefcase away under his workbench, and as soon as he looked up, he saw Klein, who was now looking at the portrait in his own hands.
What...? Was he negotiating with someone from the Monster Pathway... Someone from the School of Life Thought? — Klein narrowed his eyes indiscernibly, but said nothing.
He could see the reason without much thought.
Swain was Ademisaul's caretaker, and had even adopted him many years ago, so he must have been trying to obtain the Monster Pathway formula to at least make the boy mentally stable.
So he sought out someone who knew the formula.
And who better to negotiate with than a member of the School of Life Thought, who held control of that Pathway?
Klein almost depreciated, wondering why he was always the one who had to witness this kind of illegal or strange thing by coincidence.
Swain looked at him with recognition and said in his deep tone:
— You're the young who was with Neil, what are you doing here?"
— Do you remember me? — Klein asked, pretending he hadn't seen anything unusual.
— Of course I do. Neil is a longtime friend, and a person with many stories, if you know what I mean... — The man chuckled, as if remembering something.
Klein suddenly remembered the day Neil performed a "debt-paying" ritual for The Goddess.
— Ah, I see. — he replied.
Swain leaned his arm back on the counter, and although he looked very calm there, he still carried the air of a true Captain of the Mandatory Punishers, like someone who had once served in the Royal Navy.
— So, sir, I need to ask you something... — Before Klein could finish, Swain's expression was a bit dubious, like someone who had witnessed ten generations of charlatans from the same family.
— Things never change — Swain murmured nostalgically.
Fortunately, Klein continued to avoid a misunderstanding.
— That's not it, I'm not going to ask to borrow anything... I just want to know if you've seen this man. — He showed the image of the middle-aged man, which was quite clear.
Swain stared at the portrait for a few seconds and then nodded.
— This man... He came here looking for some information about archives and documents from the Hornacis Mountain Ranges some time ago...
Hornacis? — It was just as Klein had expected.
— Do you have his name? — he asked with a hint of hope.
— No, he only remembers the names of people he knows, like Nighthawks or friends. — Swain paused before continuing. "Even so, I'll warn you to be careful. This man was involved in that complicated case with your Church, from what I heard, and that Hanass-something man... That doesn't sound good, never good for us in this cursed world.
— Of course, Mr. Neil warned me about that many times. — Klein murmured, nodding, impressed by how quickly information traveled among the Beyonders.
In less than a day, with his network of information, Swain already knew the story of the man's connection to Hanass Vincent and the Antigonus case. Even if he had been informed by others from the Storm Church or even the Nighthawks, it was still quite interesting.
This strangely reminded Klein of the Tarot Club.
Since Swain didn't remember the names of those who came to him for information, all Klein did was head straight to the Deweyville library.
It didn't take long to get there; the path wasn't crowded with passersby, and there weren't any problems.
Thankfully, the rain didn't fall, and Klein arrived safely at the library and calmly opened the door.
There were several books scattered throughout the shelves, several he knew, but there were also so many others he didn't know that he couldn't even count them.
Among them, there were some that caught his attention, like a curious title about poisonous flowers and others recounting some part of the history and speculation about the beginning of the Fifth Epoch, even mentioning the Twenty Years' War in the title.
Others spoke more about culture, like one about the legends of the Feysac Empire, like the name of the Aumir wine, which held great significance for Klein, as that was the name of the Giant King of the City of Silver.
Others also discussed legends of the seas, strange tales of sailors the authors had endeavored to search for, one even covering the Beserk Sea all the way to the North Sea.
Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to appreciate the wealth of knowledge there, so he had to quickly grab one of the books on Northern Continent culture and return to the vendor.
He placed the book on the counter with his usual calm expression.
— Then sir, I'll take this... By the way, I need to ask you a few things. — First, he showed his email, showing he was a police officer, and then began asking the librarian some questions.
The librarian picked up one of the documents from his stack, starting to name names until he finally came to a specific entry about a man who had picked up the same periodical as him.
And then, the most recent entry had been from last Saturday, the day before Hanass Vincent's death.
Sirius Arapis, cloth merchant, street...
Klein wrote all this down mentally, and was simultaneously considering his next move.
He feared that whatever was manipulating Tingen would end up messing with his plans.
He tucked the image of Sirius Arapis into his suit's inner pocket, then turned to leave.
Uh... Should I take this to the Captain now? — He considered the first and most obvious possibility, but he still had a strong fear that someone would coincidentally start firing cannons at the same location as the Nighthawks' headquarters at the same time he was about to do so.
Even so, he had already told him about Sirius Arapis; now all he needed to do was save the information and pay the man with the Nighthawks a surprise visit.
He would find a way to do it quickly.
Klein dodged a bookshelf and turned his head to see a middle-aged man entering the library.
His eyes were blue-gray, darting back and forth with suppressed anxiety.
He had thinning hair on his head, balding, and his face pale with fear.
It was Sirius Arapis!
Klein's eyes nearly widened in a split second.
What a coincidence!
Coincidence...—his blood ran cold.
No, that couldn't be a mere coincidence.
Notes:That fate thing is acting up again... — Klein continued walking, his pace unchanged, but he wanted to run.
His plan was to leave the premises discreetly and alert the Nighthawks.
He didn't have time to follow his thoughts before a shout came from inside the library:
— Help!
— The thief is here, police!
There was a crashing sound, and then he had no choice but to run inside with his revolver in hand.
Sirius Arapis had already turned to him, his eyes wide with irrational fear, and then he ran into the library.
He was more afraid of Klein than the other way around.
As soon as he saw the gun in Klein's hand about to fire, he threw himself to the ground, but there was only a small sound.
The first shot hadn't gone off.
Klein had already known this would happen, and therefore had predicted Sirius Arapis's movements and knew what he would do.
And so it happened, Sirius leaped toward the window.
Bang!
An anti-demon bullet hit Sirius's leg, the white bones half visible amid the blood that began to ooze from the flesh of his calf.
Even so, he continued to run aimlessly, throwing himself out the window within seconds.
The area behind the library was a dense forest, full of tall pine trees with bushes visible everywhere, where anyone could hide.
Klein didn't hesitate to jump in too.
Bang!
The silver bullet pierced Sirius's back, making a hole where his heart should have been, already spread into several pieces upon hitting the ground.
His lungs, which were already visible, were still releasing air, although the right one had been ruptured by the shot.
The viscous liquid was already staining the surroundings, spreading everywhere.
Sirius Arapis fell with a thud, dead.
Klein, who had already landed perfectly on the ground, sighed internally before moving closer to his body, a dark expression on his face.
He didn't dare voice his doubts; he could only think them in the deepest recesses of his own mind.
The one behind it all was acting again.
But why now?
Just as he was about to bend down, he felt a tug on his leg, and he froze in horror.
It was Sirius Arapis's hand!
Klein, who had been given the fright of his life, didn't wait a second before kicking the man squarely in the chest with all his strength.
A sound of bones breaking echoed loudly.
He flew a little before hitting the wall outside the library, causing a clearly visible crack, as well as a hole in both the wall and Sirius Arapis's body, whose chest plate was hanging by a few threads from his lower body.
Klein took a card, The Fool, from his pocket and threw it at him the instant he saw Sirius Arapis wiggling his dust-covered fingers.
In a second, the tarot card was firmly embedded in the center of Sirius's forehead, its strength truly that of a sharp dagger with a bit of brain matter leaking out.
Klein, however, didn't wait for another sign of life. He gripped his cane tightly and began beating Sirius Arapis's head until he was certain he was dead.
His leg already seemed half-twisted from the well-aimed shot of the powerful anti-demon bullet, as did his back, a grotesque open wound that stained the ground a bloody red.
The man's head was already crushed as if it had been violently ripped open, and his face was distorted by the blows to the point of being almost unrecognizable, covered in drool from his crooked mouth and tears mixed with the viscous liquid flowing from his crushed eyes.
And there was also the Fool's card in the middle of his head, which remained intact after all.
Klein sighed, feeling nothing in his heart as he saw the completely destroyed corpse on the ground.
He quickly bent down, feeling no revulsion as he began to rummage through Sirius Arapis's pockets.
There were letters, two of them with the same yellowish tint to the paper.
Klein opened it silently.
"Dear Mr. Z, I must begin this letter by saying that it was not our intention to hand over Antigonus's notebook; there was no betrayal. If we had known what the notebook was about, we would never have sold it."
"This notebook is a Sealed Artifact worse than we imagined. It must be sealed immediately by one of Your Excellencies if it is found, otherwise the consequences will be dire."
"After selling the notebook to Welch, he and another girl, Naya, committed suicide, as you well know. And only one remained alive: Klein Moretti, that Seer, who is persecuted by the Secret Order and suspected of being from the Antigonus family, was already showing signs of madness."
"The agent assigned to observe him, Lily Chekky, perfect for the job because she worked at the same university where Klein Moretti also studied history, has died. She apparently had contact with one of the siblings of the ancient Antigonus family before committing suicide. She was likely corrupted by the notebook, which she lost after two Nighthawks visited her home."
"However, we don't know how the notebook ended up with the Antigonus siblings..."
"I must say, I didn't imagine that, in the meantime, one of the Antigonus brothers would also try to take the notebook, end up going mad, and drag the other along with him to his loss of control."
"Now, from what our special informant also reported, the Secret Order may be taking an interest in Klein Moretti, since the notebook can no longer be recovered, being kept in the possession of a Demigod from that royal military family of Callas due to the appearance of another Demigod from the Order of Mysteries during the death of the last Antigonus."
"Even so, the informant wanted to emphasize one thing. If the Secret Order wants to take Klein Moretti and is willing to trade for information, then they would like to know this; you cannot enter his mind, under any circumstances, unless you desire an end worse than death!"
"We are greatly blessed by the Lord, for with these problems arising, the blasphemous Churches will not pay attention to the divinely laid out plan by the Lord."
"Even if the plan to perform the sacrificial ritual with two siblings, one older and one younger, to your Creator has failed, there is still the greatest opportunity before us."
"This ritual would be difficult. Our targets, Selena and her younger brother, couldn't be captured by Lanevus at Selena's birthday party for sacrifice, nor could the substitutes. But everything is the Lord's plan, so it was His will for this to happen. He saw that it would be a flawed plan."
Klein's eyes darkened in thought.
"The lambs of Tingen will be sacrifices to the Lord."
"May your Creator be merciful to you who pray for His eternal grace."
And at the end of the letter, a name in black ink, the writing seemingly unalterable:
"To Mr. Z."
Klein couldn't blink, but he also avoided looking up and staring at the foggy forest.
As much as everything seemed to have followed such a simple line of resolution, it didn't make sense that this was the end.
That letter could only be a misdirection; the thing behind it all would never give up its letters so easily.
Something so difficult to deal with would never fall like that, would it?
He sighed, getting up to return to the library, now a mess from the conflict.
Books were scattered across the floor and shards shattered into several pieces.
Klein quickly told the librarian crouched behind the counter with two others:
— Call the police and give them this card. We need to secure the area without letting any civilians near.
He handed over the Nighthawks card and ran outside, heading toward Sirius Arapis's corpse again.
There was still Sirius Arapis's soul to interrogate!
He quickly performed the ritual with some of the Goddess's essential oils, repeating words a few times that would connect the clown's potion clue.
It wouldn't be for him, since he was already in Sequence 8, but for Melissa if she wanted to advance!
It wasn't long before the formula appeared, with Sirius Arapis writing it for some reason.
Just as Klein thought he was finished, the projection shattered into thousands of pieces.
He found himself in a sea of blood, and above, covering the entire sky, was a man with only one closed eye in the center of His face, hanging upside down on an inverted wooden cross of unimaginable proportions. His hands and feet were nailed to the cross, black blood oozing from the wounds.
His black hair swayed silently in the wind, and the skies above cracked ever deeper into the purest red, like a sea of blood that would flood the entire world.
The nails that held Him to the cross seemed to grow darker by the second, as if they were sucking all life from the heavens and earth, bringing them to an end.
His features were nonexistent.
The gale stopped instantly, silence enveloping everything around him.
Only a vast curtain as dark as the heavens that covered him remained undulating above, its imposing presence boundless.
— True Creator... — Klein murmured, remembering the constant warnings he had received.
Now that he knew that Sirius Arapis' mind was corrupted, he should leave, but a very strangely memorable voice hammered at his conscience.
Those who delved too deeply into matters they shouldn't have, regardless of the circumstances, ended up dead. Their deaths weren't even remembered, merely written off as unfortunate incidents.
If he continued there, he would probably be the next to die this way.
However, just as he was about to take the next step to leave, he stopped.
The body that had been motionless cracked into countless pieces, one centered on his chest, and then He moved.
His single eye opened, bringing a blinding crimson light.
He seemed to look in all directions at once as the murmurs appeared, thousands mingling together at once.
The words made sense, but so distorted that they seemed to mean nothing, just chaos, shrill and yet strangely calm.
Klein felt his mind throb; it almost seemed like a distant memory from his past, echoing in his ears, but he had never heard that voice in his entire two lives.
However, he did not have enough memories to say for sure.
Screams blended into murmurs, almost becoming one.
Klein's consciousness spun, and his chest constricted with a pain he had never felt before, not even on the brink of madness.
It felt different, more nostalgic than it should have been, but he dragged himself with all his remaining strength to escape.
No matter how much It seemed to draw him into a memory Klein might have forgotten, he knew he shouldn't look back.
If he glimpsed The Being there, he didn't know what would happen.
His mind ached; his spirituality warned him repeatedly to look back, yet he didn't.
The sky shook with pure crimson, the decay of all living beings spreading across the horizon.
It was as if The very embodiment of evil had descended upon Earth.
Klein almost froze, his already wildly beating heart nearly stopping in sheer horror.
That wasn't a projection; it was The True Creator himself!
Notes: