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Klein stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the drizzling rain fall with the wind, beating against the ground and dripping on the glass, interweaving into a net.
Since the start of autumn, Backlund had become rainy again, bringing an inescapable chill and dampness.
Klein remained motionless for a long time, his gaze vague across the blurred rainy scene, staring silently into the distance without focus.
It was only when his spirituality was stirred that he gathered his scattered thoughts, which were as fine as drizzle, and turned his head to look to the side.
Reinette Tinecker, carrying four heads with golden hair and red eyes, held a letter in her mouth and stepped out of the void.
"Who sent it this time?" Klein habitually asked the messenger miss.
The last letter he received was from
Klein first sincerely congratulated her, then apologetically told her that he had already obtained what he wanted and wouldn't be going to Calderón City in the Spirit World for the time being.
Of course, he also expressed that there were significant secrets hidden there, possibly related to himself, and that he would likely go after some time; when that happened, if Miss Sharon was free and willing, he hoped to have her help.
– For Klein, on one hand, he might need to find materials for his future advancement there; on the other hand, he believed that this mysterious city was related to the ancient God of Death, the Primordial Phoenix Grace Kelly, and might contain a way to cure Mr. Azik's "Spirit Body Deficiency", if not to give this "Death Archon" a chance to advance, then at least to save him from the torment of repeated amnesia.
Of course, Klein also had a backup plan: after he advanced to Sequence 3 "Ancient Scholar", he would prepare more "Yesterday Once More" charms for Mr. Azik, or directly apply corresponding Beyonder powers to help him recover quickly from each memory loss.
At this moment, Klein had already taken the letter. Reinette Tinecker's four heads responded in sequence: "That…" "undying…" "of…" "fool…"
…Patrick Breyne from the
After several such occurrences, Reinette Tinecker had given him a nickname.
She never showed such an interest before… I wonder when she started… Most of the people who write to me regularly now have nicknames, except Miss Sharon… Klein muttered to himself as he unfolded the letter and quickly scanned it.
Patrick Breyne wrote in the letter that this time the order from the Southern Continent was no longer to have him attempt to awaken Death in various ways, but to prepare a special ritual to help the Angel of the Death domain in the tomb, the leader of the Artificial Death faction, Heitel, recover further, enabling Him to briefly leave the "Self-Sealed Land".
On the surface, such an order didn't seem to have too many problems; it was only a bit abrupt, but Klein still sensed something amiss.
"In the past few times, the Artificial Death faction of the Southern Continent Church of the God of Death has had Patrick perform strange and dangerous rituals to try to awaken Death, and I instructed him to use excuses like not being able to gather the materials or the experiments finally failing to bluff them. Now, have they finally suspected something is wrong with Patrick?" Klein nodded thoughtfully.
He suspected this was a test aimed at Patrick Breyne, a test through a ritual targeting an Angel!
— The response range of an Angel to a ritual is the entire world.
Well, as long as they haven't suspected that there's something wrong with the Artificial Death itself, it's fine. After all, they inherited a great legacy from the ancient Balam Empire; who knows if they have ways to influence the process of the Goddess mastering the Uniqueness of the Death pathway, leaving both sides with no benefit… After analyzing for a while, Klein let out a slight sigh of relief.
As for the test from that Angel of the Death domain, he didn't find it too problematic, because "The Fool" could also mobilize power close to this level in the form of "Angel's Embrace" to interfere. As long as that Archpriest named Heitel didn't descend directly but exerted influence from a distance, Klein could cleverly mislead him.
Having figured this out, Klein flicked his wrist with a snap, making Patrick Breyne's letter burst into crimson flames. He then returned to his desk, took out paper and pen, and wrote swiftly: "...You can follow your teacher's instructions, but before performing the actual ritual, you must report to me and obtain my permission..."
Because the reply interval was short, and Patrick Breyne likely hadn't left his original location, Klein didn't summon the other's messenger. Instead, he blew the Adventurer's harmonica and handed the folded letter to Reinette Tinecker.
.............
In the sparse drizzle, Xio wore a crude resin raincoat, hiding in a dark corner, staring at the side door of Viscount
At this time, it wasn't yet evening, but the gas lamps had already been lit one after another, emitting hazy halos in the rain.
After a while, a hired carriage approached from afar and stopped at the secluded side door.
The viscount's male servant, who was sheltered, immediately darted out and opened an umbrella.
He shielded a cloaked woman who had descended from the carriage and quickly passed through the side door. The hired carriage remained in place without leaving, as if it had already received enough fare.
Xio still hadn't seen the woman's face clearly, but she wasn't discouraged at all. She waited patiently in the cold rain, motionless like a statue.
She planned to wait until the other came out, then try to follow and confirm her identity.
This was not only her chance to obtain the "Judge" potion formula but also related to her purpose for coming to Backlund — to investigate the truth behind her father's death!
With such motivation, Xio had persisted in monitoring Viscount Stratford to this day. The other intelligence agents from the Ninth Bureau of Military Intelligence had long since ended their missions in previous months when nothing happened. Even the gold-masked man who had originally given this assignment hadn't asked about it for many weeks, clearly no longer concerned.
Inside Viscount Stratford's bedroom, a delicate and beautiful brown-haired girl in a silk nightgown sat before the dresser, playing with skincare products and cosmetics as if she had found treasure.
The middle-aged Viscount Stratford, wearing a male nightgown, his hair still wet, walked behind the beautiful girl and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.