Chapter 612: Red Priest Card

"The Fool" Klein's words instantly reminded Leonard of that organization that always leaves tarot cards on site; it is looser than the secret group I imagined. Why did "The Fool" agree to such a request, and what is its purpose?

After a moment of hesitation, Leonard looked toward the head of the mottled long table and asked carefully:

"Respectful 'Fool' sir, is Klein Moretti also a member of that regular gathering? Does he have a seat here?"

"May I join that regular gathering?"

"The Fool" Klein gave a casual answer:

"Yes."

As he spoke, his right hand lightly tapped the seat, materializing a set of tarot cards, turning them face‑down and arranging them in front of Leonard.

"They use tarot cards as their codenames; you may draw one for yourself. The ones already chosen have been removed by me."

Indeed, they use tarot cards as codenames, and Leonard felt an inexplicable relief; from the information he currently possessed, this tarot‑coded secret organization showed no strong malice nor hostility toward the righteous church.

While relieved, he stared at the face‑down cards before him and became conflicted; if they were face‑up he could choose easily, but gambling on luck like this made him uneasy.

After a brief pause he couldn't help asking, "Which card did Klein Moretti draw?"

"The World."

"That isn't exactly him."

"The Fool" said lightly.

"What does that mean?" Leonard wondered, but didn't press further and casually pinched the nearest card with his right hand.

The surrounding cards vanished, and when Leonard turned the card over he saw a sky full of stars and a goddess pouring holy water.

The "Star" card among the twenty‑two tarot cards!

Though it didn't match his expectations, having chosen it, Leonard could only accept it.

"The gathering is every Monday at 3 p. m. Bakerland Time."

"When you return, remember to tell Parles Soroasde about this; do not try to hide it from him."

The silhouette of "The Fool" Klein, shrouded in gray mist, smiled lightly, raised his hand, and Leonard, who had just opened his mouth to ask why, disappeared straight into the ancient palace.

As the gray mist around him dissipated, Klein inhaled deeply, leaned against the chair back, raised a hand to rub his temples, and eased his mental fatigue.

After ascending to demigod status, his control over the gray mist deepened; he could now discern the details here more clearly, truly tapping the power belonging to "Source Fortress," and even a "Trickster Mage" with some hidden ability could conceal his own gray‑mist aura.

"It's time to explore this so‑called 'Source Fortress.'"

Klein muttered to himself, then rose from the high‑back chair and walked toward the back of the hall; deep within this ancient, grand palace lay a "Light Gate" he had never been able to reach before, and he sensed that the true "Source Fortress" lay beyond it, while the gray mist was merely a by‑product.

In the Northern Province, where the port of Beren's Port had been completely destroyed by the aftershocks of countless angel‑and‑evil‑god clashes, Leikton's figure silently emerged from the spirit realm.

The former port city had vanished entirely, leaving only scattered gray‑white stone fragments, twisted, grotesque flesh trees sprouting from the ground, and a thin black mist drifting everywhere.

Deep, dark, illusory tides rose and fell, tugging at the minds of nearby beings, stirring all manner of emotions and desires; gods who generated emotions or desires that were too strong would be corroded by the surrounding black mist, gradually mutating without notice and becoming part of the surrounding flesh trees.

The internal medicine master stood still, gazing ahead in a daze, murmuring:

"For my own scheme, I made two towns in the Northern Province disappear; unknowingly I seem no different from those evil gods now."

A slightly hoarse, mildly mocking voice suddenly rang out nearby: "Everything's already done; you come now to lament and feel sorry for yourself—doesn't that seem especially hypocritical?"

Leikton turned his head toward the source of the voice and saw Medici, clad in blood‑splattered black armor, a head of bright fire‑red hair fluttering in the wind, stepping slowly out of a sudden blaze.

Leikton withdrew his gaze, sighed, and said, "People always find an excuse for their deeds so they can accept the benefits with a clear conscience."

Medici stared blankly for a moment, then couldn't help retorting:

"Your honesty leaves no room for even a mocking desire."

Ignoring Medici's words, Leikton stepped forward, chanting as he walked:

"Sage who perceives the world, eyes that probe truth, embodiment of endless knowledge and spiritual numbers."

As the full title "Hidden Sage" was uttered, star after star materialized, dense and dazzling.

These stars filled the sky like a brilliant river, pouring down beams of light that converged into a massive Light Giant Pillar, enveloping the whole Beren's Port. Under the clear, pure starlight, the black mist and the towering flesh trees dissolved, collapsing and fading away piece by piece.

After about half a minute, all lingering auras and forces in Beren's Port were purified, and even the remaining traces of ruined structures vanished completely, leaving only gray‑brown soil and distant waves lapping the shoreline.

Having finished, Leikton turned to the indifferent Medici behind him and asked:

"Why are you still lingering here? After learning the truth of the original conspiracy, shouldn't you seek revenge, or choose new allies and fight for yourself?"

Medici gave Leikton a sideways glance and said coldly, "Are you provoking me?"

As the words fell, the scar that ran from the corner of his right cheek to his ear suddenly split, sprouting a crimson mouth that let out a hoarse laugh: "He's a coward, unwilling to forgive his master yet unwilling to avenge the other side."

The next second, the scar on his left cheek also cracked open, revealing a mouth that mocked Medici: "You whimpering woman, not even as good as Qike."

"Perhaps you should find Qike, offer this 'Conqueror' trait, become a 'Disaster Witch' under her, and then you can enjoy the utmost pleasure every day."

Leikton gave Medici's two mouths a strange look and sneered:

"The three of you are now one; do you want to enjoy three times the fun simultaneously?"

"Dog‑shit!"

"Shut up, Soren, you fool."

The mouth on Medici's right cheek roared in a fit of anger.

Leikton raised an eyebrow knowingly; he could finally tell which mouth belonged to Soren and which to Einhorn.

"Shut up, you two fools."

Medici let out a low growl, seized control of his body, and said to Leikton, "You came to me to extract feedback from these two fools, to digest the 'Challenger' elixir? Then you must first switch pathways."

"I don't like the title 'Red Priest.'" Leikton replied calmly, paused, then continued:

"I'm curious what you'll choose, and I'll try to see if I can secure a reliable ally for myself; of course, I'll need to claim some reward, since I previously helped you fight A Meng and Adam."

"Heh," Medici snorted coldly, then said:

"What do you want?"

"An extraordinary 'Iron Blood Knight' trait; after incorporating the 'Conqueror' trait, you should have excess traits left on you."

Leikton plainly stated his purpose.

Sure.

Medici lightly nodded; as he spoke, specks of scarlet flame rose from his body and quickly gathered onto his raised right hand.

After a dozen seconds, the scarlet light faded, coalesced into shape, and an antiquated‑style miniature helmet stained with blood marks appeared in Medici's hand.

On top of the helmet was inlaid a thin scarlet thread like a strand of hair, shimmering with a metallic luster, rather extraordinary.

Specks of starlight flowed from between Leiketon's fingers, wrapping this 'Iron Blood Knight's' extraordinary trait into his hand, then condensing into a mass of transparent amber, temporarily sealing it.

"Right, take this as well. As for allies, forget it—I don't want to have any further relation with Him. Those who followed His Red Angel have already fallen in that ruin; now only a returning evil spirit remains."

At the same time Medici's voice rang out, a poker‑card‑sized paper card flew into Leiketon's hand; the front of the card depicted a vast, fully branched army, at the forefront a figure clad in full‑body armor stained with iron blood and gore, wearing a scarlet cape.

In the upper‑left corner of the card, written in Old Futhark, was a single line: Sequence 0: Red Priest!

After Leiketon withdrew his gaze from scrutinizing the blasphemous card and looked up at Medici, he had already transformed into a scorching white flame lance tinged with purple, shooting toward the horizon.

I hadn't finished speaking yet—Leiketon opened his mouth, swallowing back the words he had not yet uttered.

His eyes suddenly filled with a thick gray mist; an intangible force from extremely far away tried to pull his spirit body to some place.

Feeling the summons from the gray mist above, Leiketon resisted this pull with his own status; as deep blue‑near‑purple light flowed in his eyes, the surrounding cleaned vines fell like a waterfall, quickly covering the area and completely submerging his figure.

After placing himself in a space isolated from reality, Leiketon finally relaxed his resistance, allowing his spirit body to follow that intangible pull to the gray mist above.

(End of chapter)