Chapter 441: Gravity and Electromagnetism

Em Lin stood by the window, grinning foolishly for a while; when the heat in the room finally drained away, he couldn't help but shiver, then he came to his senses and muttered in puzzled tones:

"When did the window open?"

The cold breeze drifting in through the opened window gradually steadied his thoughts, and then, feeling something, he looked up at the Crimson Moon outside and said to himself in a dazed tone:

"The Crimson Moon tonight seems brighter than usual."

Before he could close the window again, as his mind cooled, he relied on the blood clan's superhuman hearing and smell to quickly notice several abnormalities around him.

From the surrounding houses came overlapping moans, male and female, and the insect chirps that should have vanished in winter were faintly audible; even the street trees, dusted with speckled white snow, sprouted tiny new green shoots.

What is happening? Has spring arrived early? Em Lin stared blankly for a moment, feeling a vague premonition that the surroundings might be linked to the arrival of the Duke of Round Moon.

Is this an effect he deliberately left? Or is the duke himself in poor condition, unable to properly contain his aura?

After his thoughts scattered for a moment, Em Lin shut the glass window, turned to the bedside, removed the hot water bottle from the quilt, and slipped into the warm bedding.

Inside the Hall family's villa in Beikeland, Queen District.

In a luxuriously elegant bedroom, the chandelier hanging from the ceiling emitted a bright yet non‑glare light; the rays reflected off the crystals, casting interlaced light spots on the floor and walls.

Audrey sat before a neatly arranged dressing mirror with a frown, a letter sheet beneath her hand that she had crossed out and revised many times yet still could not finish.

At her feet, the golden‑retriever Su Xi asked in a somewhat worried tone:

"Audrey, what's wrong? You've been brooding since this afternoon."

Audrey set down the fountain pen in her hand, rested her elbows on the table, cupped her cheeks with both hands, and said:

"I'm fine, it's just that I have something very important to tell Alfred, but I don't know how to say it to him."

"I don't know what excuse to use to persuade him to leave the Southern Continent temporarily; he's already a colonel and can't leave his military district and return to Beikeland just because I send a letter, and mailing it will take a long time—by then the matter might already be over."

The golden retriever at her feet shook its head twice in confusion, looking unsure, and said:

"If this matter is dangerous, you could first write a letter asking him to leave the Southern Continent for a while; given your relationship, he'll definitely follow your advice, even if he doubts it. As for the reason, you can think it over later, slowly."

"If the danger is within a tolerable range, you can embed subtle hints in the letter, letting Alfred rely on his own abilities to get through it."

"This isn't a problem one can solve with one's own ability; only by becoming a demigod could one be confident enough to protect oneself in a chaotic battle," Audrey sighed inwardly, then whispered:

"I don't know how far things will develop, but it will certainly be serious, and most likely a clash of extraordinary beings will erupt."

"I've asked a trustworthy friend to exile Alfred when the battle breaks out, or to seal him off for a time, but I'm worried he'll force his way back onto the battlefield; given his temperament, that's quite possible."

"On a chaotic battlefield, even a powerful extraordinary being cannot constantly spare energy to watch over a single person and still provide protection at crucial moments."

Su Xi opened her mouth but couldn't speak; she's just an unqualified hunting dog—Audrey's problem is too difficult for a dog.

After pondering for a moment, she said uncertainly:

"Audrey, although I don't quite understand what you're saying, I think if you're worried about Alfred, you should write a letter to give him some warning."

"As long as you promise to give him a reasonable explanation later, he'll definitely follow your advice; you can treat it as a secret between the two of you, even the count and countess won't know."

Audrey's eyes brightened, and she couldn't stop the smile at the corner of her mouth as she said:

"That's a great idea; given what I know of Alfred, he'll definitely follow my advice and keep the secret!"

"Su Xi, you're wonderful~"

Audrey half‑crouched, cradled the golden retriever in her arms, and while patting it, praised:

"Um, Audrey, I'm about to run out of breath."

Xi Bairang, Pas River Valley.

Leighton was enjoying breakfast delivered by a waiter in his hotel room: a simple flatbread, a platter of assorted fruits mixed with seasonings, and a cup of hot coffee.

Tu Ba Ge had the same breakfast before him; he placed the marinated fruit into a water‑filled cup, rinsed it repeatedly, then closed his eyes and shoved the fruit into his mouth, chewing and swallowing with a twisted expression.

After finally swallowing a piece of fruit, he turned his head and gulped a large mouthful of water, as if an unpleasant taste lingered in his mouth.

"Um, the fruit's flavor is already fine, so why do people here mix them with these strange seasonings? For a rabbit, it's just too unpalatable."

Tu Ba Ge muttered, stared at the breakfast before him and didn't eat a second piece of fruit, slumped listlessly on the table like a salted fish that had lost its dreams.

Leighton reached out, patted Tu Ba Ge's fluffy head, and laughed lightly:

"Perhaps the locals have grown tired of plain fruit, so they invented this odd way of eating it."

"Alright, in a bit we'll go out to buy fresh fruit, or you can just find a vacant plot, sow seeds, and use your extraordinary ability to sprout a plant that bears fruit and matures instantly."

"Um, plant growth requires a process; those instantly‑spawned, rapidly‑ripened fruits have no flavor at all—they're just superficial fakes!"

Tu Ba Ge muttered his refusal to use an extraordinary ability to create fruit, paused, then continued:

"And I'm a weak rabbit venturing out alone; what if I encounter that crazy Primordial Moon Follower? Even if it's just his puppet, I couldn't defeat it—he'd surely capture me for dissection and study."

Leighton ate his breakfast while listening to Tu Ba Ge's rambling, offering no reply; suddenly his inspiration was sparked, and he looked up toward the area beneath the ceiling.

A deep‑blue glimmer flashed in his eyes; his gaze pierced reality, seeing a book messenger descending from the depths of the spirit realm.

The golden book suddenly flipped, and he felt the rustling of pages echoing beside his ear.

Moments later, a pale‑yellow sheet bearing a sunflower pattern drifted down from the spirit realm, pierced the barrier, and landed on Leighton's outstretched left hand.

"Blood clan?" Leighton muttered softly, his inspiration pointing to the cooperation with the blood clan mentioned at yesterday's Tarot gathering.

Em Lin's fellow moved quite quickly; how did he persuade those high‑ranking blood clan members? Did Lilith really push this behind the scenes? Perhaps Lilith's attention and favor toward him manifested the moment he first recited the name of the Fool.

Leighton sighed inwardly, then fixed his gaze on the letter paper in his hand and examined it closely.

The neat script on the pale‑yellow paper, tinged with a dried‑blood‑like dark red, sprawled two lines of words:

"I am Grand Duke Ormer of Round Moon. Following the ancestors' revelation, I will represent the blood clan in cooperation with you. In this matter, I think you can directly represent the Knowledge Church, the follower of the All‑Knowing One."

"The follower of the All‑Knowing One"—in this world, only the God of Knowledge and Wisdom can be called the All‑Knowing One. How did it discern this? The book messenger?

As thoughts drifted, Leighton's inspiration was stirred again; he sensed something approaching from the spirit realm, and the hotel room he occupied was undergoing strange changes.

Leighton tilted his head slightly, a deep‑blue‑purple glow swirling in his eyes; everything around him transformed into complex layered data, allowing him to easily spot anomalies.

This is the ability that emerged after his promotion to Prophecy Master, when the Eye of Secret Gazing further evolved, enabling him to discern the essence of surroundings from countless bits of information.

His intuition told him this isn't a skill every Prophecy Master possesses; it's likely due to some special changes within himself.

Soon he detected irregular disturbances in the gravity and electromagnetic data surrounding him; strange forces unfolded, constructing a half‑true, half‑false illusion.

The ability to directly control gravity and electromagnetism is difficult even for an arcane scholar of the Perfect's path without mastering the corresponding knowledge; to manipulate it as one wishes, at least one must be a knowledge mentor—power beyond the twenty-two divine paths?

As thoughts drifted, the surroundings had already changed from the hotel room to a dim, ancient palace hall; through the stained‑glass windows all around, one could faintly see the Crimson Moon hanging high outside.

Originally listless and lying on the table, Tu Ba Ge sprang up with a carp's flip, its vigilant eyes scanning the surroundings, and it muttered softly:

"Where's our inn? How did it suddenly become a castle?"

While speaking, it quickly moved close to Lei Ke Dun, leaping onto his shoulder, legs pushing against the chair back, pressing its body tightly against Lei Ke Dun's back.

Lei Ke Dun reached out and rubbed Tu Ba Ge's soft, floppy ears twice, soothing its emotions; then he turned his head to look ahead, where the original dining table had quietly changed into a long table laid with deep‑red table runners, filled with utensils painted with crimson floral patterns.

Directly opposite the table sat a middle‑aged gentleman dressed splendidly, exuding a noble aura, though his face was indistinct.

His eyes were deep red, like a blood moon, his gaze revealing an unhidden vicissitude, as if he were a sage who had endured countless ages.

Lei Ke Dun gave a faint nod without much expression; the deep blue‑violet gleam in his eyes intensified somewhat. Amid the vast ocean of knowledge, he perceived the creative power upon the other's form, saw the enormous bat wings behind him that obscured sky and sun, and saw the crimson moon suspended high in the air.

"Duke of the Round Moon?" Lei Ke Dun stared at him, his words holding little doubt.

The middle‑aged gentleman opposite, whose face was indistinct, glanced somewhat surprised at Lei Ke Dun, then his gaze fell onto Tu Ba Ge patting his back.

After sizing him up for a moment, He habitually reached out to adjust His long black‑inside‑red tailcoat, then spoke in a calm voice tinged with arrogance:

"Do you know me?"

(End of chapter)