Chapter 593: Monday

In the steam train bound for Belen's Port from Hitron, the capital of the Northern State, a black classic feather pen, unattended, began spontaneously writing a series of Dragon Tongue words on the brown notebook on the dining table.

Ma Hamus of the Rose School failed in seizing Tutankhis II's mummy, but unexpectedly uncovered a clue about Temperance Faction leader Renite Tinicol, which he passed back to the Rose School.

Baranka (redacted) went to investigate, and the Indulgence Faction leader Divine Scourge Seoa, also on a probe, unexpectedly sighted Al Tains in the spirit realm; he decided to launch a surprise attack to eliminate this "threat."

Seoa was overconfident in his Sequence‑One strength, was easily toyed with by Al Tains, and left unperturbed.

During the chase, the spirit realm's "Sun" happened to rise there, causing it to lose the optimal pursuit window and reluctantly give up.

Such a development is quite reasonable!

After shedding Divine Scourge Seoa, Al Tains decided to head to Belen's Port, and the unlucky Zangweier also planned to go there; he would bring the evil spirit of Medici Soren Einhorn residing within him before Al Tains.

Soren and Einhorn's consciousness tried to intervene, but they were not as powerful as Medici, so they could only jointly restrain him; the delicate balance silenced the evil spirit Medici Soren Einhorn, removing extra interference, and Ins Zangweier's journey to Belen's Port would proceed smoothly.

That is a very reasonable development! The classic feather pen suddenly fell, as if the writing it had just done had drained all its energy.

The steam train's window was abruptly opened by someone; amid the whimpering wind, the notebook that 0‑08 had just written in fluttered noisily.

At a certain moment, the pages in the notebook halted, revealing the glaring Dragon Tongue words printed on them:

On an unknown night, Ins Zangweier unconsciously muttered my great father's honored name in his dream, and in a corner unnoticed by anyone, the great "Imaginary Dragon" cast its gaze.

In Belen's Port, thanks to Daniz obtaining a universal language talisman from the local Knowledge Church bishop, Anderson could finally communicate with the locals without hindrance.

In the dock district, Anderson and Daniz, having just finished lunch at a local specialty restaurant, walked side by side down the main street.

After sidestepping an unknown number of bicycles, Anderson curled his lip and said, "Sometimes I really wonder whether this place is the poor, backward Xibailang; their food is even richer and more varied than the Northern Continent's Fennibote, and bicycles are everywhere on the streets for easy travel."

Daniz glanced disdainfully at Anderson beside him, his tone dripping with unapologetic superiority, and said:

"It's already the year 1350; stop viewing this place's issues with your outdated perspective. Times are changing, society is progressing—these are perfectly normal phenomena."

"Soon you'll see that even the common folk here can travel by steam train or airship."

Anderson scoffed and cut off Daniz's endless speech: "Heh, that doesn't sound like something you'd say; who did you hear that from?"

"Also, you seem overly informed about Xibailang's situation, right? Edwenna hasn't been active at sea lately; have you changed the business of the 'Golden Dream'?"

Daniz shook his head repeatedly and said:

"Of course not; while searching for treasure we also found a decent side job."

"You don't realize how dangerous the seas are now; I just got word from Bru that Hell General Ludvel was slain by German Sparo near the Raging Sea."

"That guy boarded the Black Tulip alone; without any battle, he stared at Ludvel for a moment, then the Hell General turned into a walking corpse, which he took away."

Daniz's vivid description made Anderson doubt whether it was genuine news or fabricated chatter to attract attention.

It must be true; with his intellect he couldn't have concocted such a dramatic plot. But if that's the case, German Sparo got stronger again? Isn't that a bit far-fetched? When we last met, he had just been promoted to Sequence Five. Anderson crossed his arms, his expression growing increasingly serious.

In a daze, he thought he heard a sigh echo beside him.

Anderson glanced around suspiciously; aside from Daniz, no one else was near him.

"Weird, am I hallucinating?" Anderson scratched his head, thought briefly, then pushed the question aside and, unconsciously, let the recent memory fade bit by bit.

In the outskirts of Belen's Port, Reckton emerged from the spirit realm, stood at a distance and gazed at the harbor city, feeling an inexplicable odd sensation.

"Why am I thinking of coming here?" As the thought turned, his eyes were suddenly veiled in silvery white, becoming profoundly deep and unfocused, a blank void.

The state lasted less than two seconds before his eyes cleared again.

"Meeting Ins Zangweier here is intriguing; it's not the kind of arrangement Adam would make, that feather pen, or perhaps Angelwide?" he muttered softly, and suddenly greenish vines draped from the air, completely engulfing his silhouette.

By three o'clock in the afternoon, reclining on a bench woven from the vines, Reckton tilted his head slightly; a dense gray mist surged in his eyes, and deep crimson light flooded his sight like a tide.

When his vision cleared, he found himself atop the gray mist, inside an ancient, grand palace, seated on the high‑back chair belonging to the White Tower.

Justice Odell rose first, lifted her hem toward the head of the mottled long table, and bowed, saying, "Good afternoon, Mr. Fool."

After everyone completed their salutations, Hermit Gardelia turned toward the head of the mottled table and bowed to Fool Clayen, saying, "My apologies, Mr. Fool; this week I still haven't obtained Emperor Rosell's diary."

"Hmm," Clayen replied in a calm tone, nodding lightly.

It seems the Mysterious Queen truly has no intention of continuing to give me the diary; what happened to make her change her mind? As thoughts drifted, Clayen's gaze subconsciously fell on Reckton seated on the high‑back chair, and he instinctively thought the matter might involve him.

Noticing Clayen's stare, Reckton turned his head toward the foot of the mottled table, where World sat, and chuckled, nodding.

Habitually observing the crowd, Justice Odell noticed the scene; she instinctively began to interpret the covert interaction between Reckton and Clayen. It seemed Mr. White Tower and Mr. World had reached some tacit understanding—could this be related to why Hermit Gardelia no longer contributes Rosell's diary?

As thoughts drifted, she heard Fool at the head of the mottled table chuckle and announce that today's Tarot gathering was officially commencing.

Moon Emrin let out two impatient coughs, drawing everyone's attention; he looked at Reckton, slightly lifted his chin, and said:

"I have become a Viscount!"

"I wonder if you have any information on the Witch King, or on artificial vampires of the same tier?"

"You don't need to say that part; I can tell," Reckton joked, noticing a blush on Emrin's cheek, then lightly answered his earlier question:

"I only know two Witch Kings; both joined the Rose School—one is the former Crimson Queen, the other is Kalaman, the author of the occult tome that World sold to Miss Justice."

"The former was slain by the Storm Church, and its traits reclaimed; the latter is probably still recuperating, having been wounded by a Ruin 'Founding One' during the recent raid on Tutankhis II's mummy at Plitz Port in Ruin."

"The God‑Abandoned Land surely harbors demigod‑level vampire monsters, but you probably can't afford them."

"Also, you haven't even repaid a tenth of your debt to me."

For the first time, Emrin distinctly felt embarrassment; both cheeks reddened again, his head bowed slightly, and he said dejectedly:

"I was just asking in advance to plan ahead; if I rely on internal blood‑clan channels, I don't know how many centuries I must wait before I could become a Count."

After a pause, he added, "A Viscount already corresponds to Sequence Five, and I have sufficient means to repay the prior debt; it won't exceed this month!"

After two seconds of silence, Clayen, using his minor title World, rasped, "You could try petitioning your blood‑clan's Ancestor; perhaps He will directly grant you a Witch King trait."

If you truly are still among the blood‑clan chosen by Lilith, He likely wouldn't mind a bit of investment and cultivation; I could also learn the Ancestor's condition.

Emrin's face stiffened, and he said helplessly:

"The Ancestor only occasionally bestows revelations; otherwise He never answers our prayers, let alone petitions."

The transaction phase passed quickly; the participants' sequence promotions at the Tarot gathering seemed to hit a bottleneck, and they, busy acting and digesting, had few demands.

At Fool Clayen's prompting, today's Tarot gathering swiftly moved into the free‑exchange segment.

Reckton turned his head toward the foot of the mottled table, where the gloomy World sat, chuckled, and said, "I've found Ins Zangweier's trail."

(End of chapter)