The draft in his hand felt light and weightless, but it made him aware of the absurdity of reality.
*The Hanged Man’s method really worked… Lord Nibais didn’t expose me or punish me, but instead gave me a generous reward. He was merely pretending not to know, encouraging me to keep trying so he could secretly observe… Are the Blood Clan’s thoughts this complicated too…* Emlyn felt a mixture of bewilderment and admiration.
Soon, he snapped out of his wandering thoughts and focused back on the 7,000-pound reward: *With this, I can buy the Baron’s legacy from The Hanged Man and concoct the potion…* *I’m about to become a Baron, Baron Emlyn White of the Blood Clan!* Emlyn’s eyes brightened, and his steps became much lighter.
Within the Blood Clan, if one’s elders didn’t bestow a gift and conduct a corresponding ritual, a member was fixed at the rank they were born into, with almost no chance of elevating themselves through their own efforts or time.
Among the Blood Clan of a similar age to Emlyn, apart from those who were extremely lucky, having clan ancestors who were nearing the end of their lifespans and had to pass on power to their descendants through a ritual, the vast majority were still stuck within the concept of «adulthood,» with no hope of obtaining a «title» for several decades.
Emlyn’s mother and father had lived for so many years, yet they still weren't Barons and didn’t even see the faintest hope!
As he walked out the gates, Emlyn couldn’t help but glance at Casimi Odora beside him.
This elderly Blood Clan member, active during the Roselle era, was still only a Baron… And I am about to reach this rank! One day, I will become a Blood Clan Marquis like Lord Nibais! No, a Duke, or even a Prince! Only then can I bear the responsibility of the Blood Clan’s Savior… Hmm, the Baron’s legacy costs just over four thousand pounds. I can save a lot of money and buy a few more marionettes and make some new clothes for them… Emlyn unconsciously straightened his back and walked with increasing confidence.
…………
In the
Derrick lit candles and began preparing for the sacrificial ritual.
After waiting through several shifts in the frequency of lightning strikes, he finally found his chance.
He was very sure that the Chief couldn't keep an eye on him at this moment, because he had left the City of Silver with the little boy
It didn't take long for Derrick to set everything up. With devout solemnity, he softly chanted the honorific name of Mr. Fool.
Quite skillfully and methodically, he sacrificed the stomach of the Soul Devourer that Miss Magician needed and the mystical materials Mr. Hanged Man had specified to the ruler above the
Many cracks ran through the sturdy city walls of the City of Silver, but they were filled with hard, blackened soil. Clumps of dense, fine weeds grew from them, swaying lightly in the wind like human hair.
Suddenly, they all shot upward, as if trying to grab something, but failing, they fell back.
…………
At dawn, at the Church of the Storm.
Rumor had it that this evil spirit claiming to be the "Sea God" was defeated by two cardinals allied with military strongmen using corresponding sealed artifacts a long time ago, right after the
*Was this a situation deliberately created by the Moses Ascetic Order?* *But why hadn't they done this in the previous hundred years?* *To cooperate with their other plans?* As conjectures and doubts interchanged, Alger suddenly realized an important factor.
The biggest and most fundamental difference between the recent present and the past hundred years was: The World had arrived in Bayam!
The Blessed of Mr. Fool had arrived in the Rorsted Archipelago!
Did his presence indicate that major events were brewing or about to happen in that region? First, the Great Smog of
It wasn't that wherever the World goes, trouble happens, but wherever trouble is about to happen, the World and other Blessed would appear!
What benefit did this bring Mr. Fool? Was it purely to destroy the plans of rival factions, or did it help Him unseal and unleash more power? Suppressing his doubts, Alger decided to seize this opportunity to submit a piece of intelligence he had previously obtained.
He made a fist with his right hand, pressed it to his left chest, and said with a display of hesitation: "Your Excellency Jorgorio, while investigating the remnants of the 'Iron' faction, I heard a piece of news."
"What?" Jorgorio had planned to dispatch this captain, who was at the bishop level, to sea to search for traces of the resistance, but the man interrupted him so abruptly that he was momentarily irritated.
Alger "recollected" and said: "
Bansy Harbor... something happened... Jorgorio stepped forward and pressed for details: "What else did they say?"
"They said a bishop in the Church had fallen there. Nothing else, Your Excellency Jorgorio. Is the Medici family a dark family from the Fourth Epoch?" Alger asked deliberately.