"You shall not invoke my name without my permission."
……
Several minutes after the gathering ended, back in her bedroom and the captain's cabin, Audrey and Alger seemed to still hear Mr. Fool's words echoing in their ears.
In their impressions, the mysterious and powerful Mr. Fool was either relaxed and carefree, or calm and indifferent, or utterly unfathomable. He rarely displayed such a solemn and condescending attitude.
And precisely because of this, the two of them felt particularly terrified, willingly submitting from the bottom of their hearts: They were no strangers to words of a similar style, but they were all recorded in Night's Revelations, in The Book of Storms!
…………
Klein pulled open the curtains, letting the golden sunlight stream into the bedroom.
After Justice and The Hanged Man left, he had examined that "star" from which a prayer emanated once more, but this time he gained no information whatsoever.
Based on the crimson "star's" function of preserving prayers, similar to an offline message, Klein believed that in the interval since his last two ascensions above the
This made him suspect whether the young man's parents were beyond saving, and thus he had given up...
With his back to the sunlight, Klein walked to the bed and flopped down onto it, not wanting to move a muscle.
He knew he should seize the time to go to the Divination Club to continue the digestion process, but he still didn't want to stir. He just wanted to lie there quietly and enjoy the rare day off.
From Tuesday to Friday, his daily schedule was packed: mornings were for mysticism courses and corresponding practice, afternoons for marksmanship training and combat exercises, leaving him so tired he had no energy left by evening. As for Saturday, the morning remained unchanged, but in the afternoon he began his rotation guarding the Cheanike door, eating, drinking, and answering nature's call all underground, a duty he had to maintain until Sunday morning.
Sunday morning belonged to Klein's catch-up sleep time, and whether he went to the Divination Club in the afternoon depended on the situation. On Monday morning, he had just run an errand to Khoy University, and in the afternoon he had to convene the
So, right now, Klein just wanted to be decadent once, to lie around at home like a lazy bum, doing nothing, thinking about nothing, purely zoning out.
"No, how can the boss of a 'cult' act so dejected? If Miss Justice and Mr. Hanged Man found out, their worldview would shatter..." Klein buried his face in the quilt, giving himself a pep talk.
"I have the Clown potion formula, just waiting for the Diviner potion to be completely digested... I have the Clown potion formula, just waiting for the Diviner potion to be completely digested..."
He muttered to himself a few times, then abruptly rolled over and sat up.
Pulling a brass-colored coin from his trouser pocket, Klein quickly divined whether today was suitable for going to the club, receiving a positive answer.
"Five, four, three, two, one!"
After the countdown, he forced himself to stand straight, walked over to the coat rack, and took down the tailcoat jacket and the half-high silk top hat.
…………
Hall's Block, Divination Club meeting room.
Klein sat in a shady corner, sipping Sivyer black tea while flipping through the Tingen City Honest Man's Gazette. The surrounding members were scarce, only about six or seven.
Just as he was amused by the incorrect grammar in a job advertisement, Grassis walked in, wearing a monocle and holding a silk top hat, accompanied by a woman in her thirties wearing a blue high-collared dress.
The woman had arched eyebrows and large eyes that lacked spirit. Her left hand was tightly gripping a black velvet Intis hat shaped like a helmet and brimming with feathers.
That hat is absurd—doesn't it make your neck sore? Klein noticed this and looked over, casually pinching the bridge of his nose as if to relieve fatigue.
Through his Spirit Vision, Grassis and the green-eyed woman appeared physically healthy but emotionally anxious, angry and flustered.
"Good afternoon, Grassis. That Mr. Lanier was indeed not trustworthy, wasn't he?" Klein didn't stand up, asking with a faint smile.
The last time, Grassis, who had just recovered from lung disease, had consulted him about an investment in Lanier's Steel Company and received a mediocre, inadvisable result.
But seeing Grassis's indecisive manner, Klein had felt he would most likely still take the risk—at most without staking his entire fortune. So now, upon seeing the emotional colors emanating from him, he immediately made the connection and reached his conclusion.
Grassis froze for a moment, then forced a bitter smile: "I truly regret not following your divination advice. Heh, that's the second time I've said this sentence. I hope—no, I'm certain there won't be a third."
He turned his head to the woman at his side, whose eyes had developed a few crow's feet: "Lady Christina, you see, we haven't even spoken yet and Mr. Moretti already knows our purpose. He's the most extraordinary diviner I've ever met. I'd prefer to call him a Seer."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti. We've come precisely because of the Lanier matter." The woman called Christina offered a brief, somewhat flustered and anxious bow.
"Shall we go to the Citrine Room?" Grassis, relatively composed, indicated the meeting room door with his chin.
Klein smiled, stood up, and said: "That is a diviner's work."
He walked along the corridor to the door and entered the empty Citrine Room.
Grassis locked the wooden door from the inside, sighing as he walked toward a seat: