"Cute Mr. Fool~"
The words echoed like thunder through each of their minds, carving into their thoughts like something forbidden. For a single moment, it was as if time itself had stilled.
Did... did 'She' just...? Audrey's spine straightened so fast it might've cracked. Every instinct from every noble gathering she'd ever attended screamed at her to raise her hand and cover her mouth, but she resisted, even if barely. It felt like hearing a royal scandal during a ball at the palace.
This... this is worse than talk of Gods descending and the King of Angels! Fors froze, trying her best to shrink into the chair and simply disappear. Stay still... maybe Mr. Fool won't notice me. Maybe I won't get struck down just for hearing those words. A cold sweat ran down her neck.
Emlyn stared in pure astonishment up ahead. I must've misheard. Yes, that's it. My ears—proud Sanguine ears—would never allow such disrespect to pass through. Not directed at Mr. Fool!
Derrick's jaw had dropped open, eyes flicking between Ms. Hierophant and Mr. Fool in awe. They truly are ancient acquaintances... mythical deities walking through time together. Their bond must go beyond anything we mortals can grasp. To think even Gods have... friends...
Alger looked like a man watching his own funeral procession. His eyes were glassy, vision blurred by sheer disbelief. I've always known danger lurks behind every corner, but not once did I factor in divine recklessness as a variable.
He swallowed hard, pulse thunderous in his ears. The meetings were supposed to be safe... even helpful. I should've advanced sooner. No—even an angel wouldn't survive this, Mr. Fool's anger is going to—Ms. Hierophant is going to get us all killed!
'Cute'... 'cute'? Klein's eyebrow twitched. She called me... 'cute'? Why? What does she mean? Is it ironic? Foreshadowing something? A message? But to whom, and what's the true meaning?
Could what happened in Tingen be repeating again? His eyes drifted to Irina, still smiling like a cat who knocked over a vase just to watch it fall. Maybe she knows something I don't, and she's trying to prevent some sort of negative event from happening. But how could calling me 'cute' help the situation in any possible way?
Klein tapped the long, ancient bronze table with his finger, speaking with a leisurely smile, as if he hadn't heard a thing. "Let us end today's gathering here."
Alger jolted upright. He's ignoring it? His gaze sharpened, studying the unmoved fog-shrouded figure. That tone... so serene. So unaffected. Could it be... I imagined it? He glanced around. No one said a word. Maybe I did. One by one, they stood up and offered their goodbyes as if nothing unusual had happened. I must have...
Swallowing again, Alger forced his limbs to move. "Thank you for your blessing," he mumbled in a hoarse voice.
As the red light enveloped them, signifying their departure, he cast a final glance at Ms. Hierophant, only to freeze on the spot. 'She' hadn't moved at all, and more importantly, there was no red light surrounding 'Her'. 'She's not leaving... His stomach flipped.
In Backlund, at Cherwood Borough, as the crimson glow faded from Fors' eyes, she found herself once again seated before her familiar desk with her notebook still lying open on top of it. The experience itself wasn't anything new, yet it still managed to leave her in awe every single time.
She picked up her pen, but hesitated. That final exchange... A shiver ran down her spine.
Ms. Hierophant and Mr. Fool... 'They' act so casually with one another. Almost too personal.
Her fingers trembled slightly. We're all just low Sequence Beyonders... how are we supposed to keep calm under all that stress!
In the Berg Household, City of Silver, Derrick opened his eyes, pretending to wake up.
His original plan had been simple: perform a sacrificial ritual and send the Spirit Eater's stomach pouch. But the Hanged Man's warning still rang in his mind, reminding him to be cautious.
I'll gather the materials first, he decided, then perform the ritual all at once. With practiced ease, he attached the Axe of Hurricane to his back and stepped outside towards the steeple.
Yet, as he walked, the memory of the meeting resurfaced. Ms. Hierophant... 'Her# return... the ease with which 'She' speaks to Mr. Fool... A quiet smile tugged at his lips. Such benevolence and wisdom, kindness and understanding deities that guide and help us. His gaze lifted upwards. Above him stretched the eternal black sky, interrupted only by periodic bursts of lightning.
One day, he thought, remembering that old book's picture, we'll see that light for real. With 'Their' help, we'll walk under a true sky and gaze up at the sun with only but praises for Mr. Fool and Ms. Hierophant!
The ship rose and fell with the plunging waves, yet the seasoned sailors unshakingly navigated through the storm with practiced ease. Their captain had ordered them to be left alone in his cabin, and none dared disobey.
Alger sat behind his desk, staring blankly at the locked wooden door in front of him. His mind replayed the earlier encounter over and over, trying to understand how he had come out of it alive. Could Mr. Fool be... a generous God? He shut his eyes tightly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat. No. Believe in the might of the deities, but do not trust their benevolence.
Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet, only to stagger, nearly falling over. There were now two Gods at the Tarot Club meetings. And the most recent one... 'She' had a volatile personality. 'Her' desires weren't satisfied by reverence or offerings, but by human amusement. He rubbed his temple, trying to alleviate the spreading ache. And 'She' walks among us mortals freely... acting as 'She' pleases... behind the Seven Orthodox Gods' back. 'She' even dared to speak to Mr. Fool like that! No restraint at all. No reverence. Yet Mr. Fool said 'Her' presence is 'helpful'?
His lips pressed into a tight line as he recalled the meeting. That name... that full, honorific name...'the Warden who abandoned its Origin, the Protector Mage who uncovers Time, the Guardian of Knowledge surrounded by Void.' Even thinking about it made his skin crawl.
Mr. Fool had said 'She' might help, if they could amuse 'Her.' That 'She' might even share knowledge 'He' otherwise wouldn't. But... at what hefty cost... how much blood will need to be spilled to satisfy 'Her' amusement...
With a shaky sigh, Alger dropped back into his chair, cradling his head in his hands. The old wooden table in front of him was cluttered with parchment, maps, books, and much more. When I saw 'Her' reaction, I just knew 'She' was smiling underneath that fog... not a mortal's smile, no. Something else. Something inhuman. His heart had nearly pounded out of his chest through the entire interaction, yet somehow, miraculously, he had survived long enough to hear that last comment.
His eyes fell onto a parchment he had received before departing from the last port. At the top corner, marked in deep blue ink, glinted the sacred emblem of the Lord of Storms, a symbol of gales and stormy waves.
He stared at it in silence.
Maybe it's time I report the Tarot Club to the Church...
Inside Sefirah Castle, the gray fog receded to reveal the two lone figures seated at the long, ancient, bronze table. Irina took one look at Klein's unreadable expression and immediately burst into laughter.
Klein sighed as if the weight of twenty years had just landed on his shoulders. His reaction only made it worse as Irina was now clutching her stomach with one hand and slamming the table with the other.
"Tr-trust me, man," she wheezed between fits of laughter, "that wasn't supposed to come out! I mixed up my speech and thought bubbles!"
Klein looked at her absolutely done for. "So you're telling me... that wasn't some cryptic comment based on future knowledge?"
Still wiping tears from her eyes, she replied, "Depends on what kind of future knowledge you mean."
"Like saving someone's life," he said dryly, "or preventing some kind of disaster."
Even though she knew he was using his Clown abilities, that question sobered her up way too quickly. Her gaze drifted to the endless gray fog surrounding them. "Well... I guess it could help," she muttered.
"Guess? Could?" He leaned forward slightly, voice exasperated. "Irina, come on. If Mr. Fool's persona gets ruined—"
"Chill, chill," she said quickly, raising both hands in surrender. "They won't with the knowledge you and I keep dropping on them." I can always throw in more lore, keep them thinking we're Gods or high Sequence Beyonders at the very least.
Klein leaned back in his high-back chair, watching her with narrowed eyes for a long moment. "Cute?" he finally said. "You think I'm cute?"
Irina paused, staring at his completely deadpan expression. Then her lips trembled before another burst of laughter escaped her. "That face, man! I know you're using your clown abilities just to keep it together!"
She waved a hand in the air like it could dissolve her laughter. "That alone makes you 'cute'. Especially since I arrived in this world before you! You were so adorable trying to understand all this chas~"
Klein's expression twitched.
That man is pouting I tell you! I just know it!
"That may be true," he said, "but I've spent more time here than you have. I was in Backlund for three months while you were still asleep."
"Well—" she struggled to find a comeback, grasping at anything at this point. "I'm older than you! So you should respect me."
She leaned back in her chair like a smug elder lamenting about youth's disrespectful behaviour 'nowadays'. Even her arms were crossed in triumph.
Klein raised an eyebrow. "I'm twenty-two. You're eighteen. Nineteen if you've had your birthday. That still makes you younger than me."
"Not you as Klein—you as Zhou, man!"
He didn't even blink. "I wasn't even twenty-five when I transmigrated here. How old were you?"
Irina gasped theatrically, hands flying to her mouth. "Did you just ask a woman her age?! Aren't all your personas supposed to be gentlemen?! That's a rule, you know!"
"Oh my God," Klein muttered, laughing despite himself as he massaged his temples. "Fine. Fine. You win this one."
Irina grinned victoriously.
With a small sigh of surrender, he added under his breath, "It's not like calling Mr. Fool 'cute' would help with anything anyway."
Her grin slowly faded, morphing into something more distant and thoughtful, before vanishing completely beneath a contemplative stare. "Of course it can. It increases humanity; anchors are always needed."
Irina checked over her nails, absently turning her hand under the dim light. All of them were now long. That's how they looked back in Tingen, she noted. After taking on Elena's identity, I started trimming most of them short. The artist gloves I wear don't work well with long ones after all.
She stretched, savoring the quiet atmosphere. The members had left, and with the Tarot Club meeting over, she was free to move around Sefirah Castle as she pleased. Standing up, she glanced down at her outfit—her old one. I missed this a little. But the one I wear now? It makes me look way cooler.
"Humanity and anchors?" Klein asked, brows furrowing slightly in confusion.
She froze mid-twirl. Ah. Right. He doesn't know those concepts yet.
The slip-up was subtle, but Klein noticed it immediately. He'd seen that pause, the way her shoulders tensed. And remembering how guarded she could be when it came to revealing information too soon, he hesitated. For a moment, he considered withdrawing the question, just letting it go.
Before he could though, Irina took a few steps and dropped into Ms. Justice's seat, resting her cheek in her palm as she studied him, weighing her words. At his Sequence, he should be fine learning the basics. As long as I don't make any direct references or mention anyone's name... Still, just to be sure. "You should divine whether it's safe to learn the basics," she said calmly.
The question Klein had been about to ask dissolved on his tongue. If she was suggesting divination herself, then this wasn't something trivial. He gave a slow nod, summoning his pendulum and holding the chain with practiced hands.
"It's safe for me to learn the basics of the concepts of humanity and anchors."
After repeating the statement multiple times, the crystal began to spin clockwise, but way too slowly.
"Relatively safe," he murmured. The pendulum's amplitude was small. And that was just the basics... I don't even want to imagine what kind of danger full understanding would pose.
Looking up, he found Irina watching him, her expression faraway and eyes slightly unfocused. She's thinking about what to say... or what not to say, perhaps.
"You remember how Sequences are structured, right?" she asked eventually, her tone slower this time.
"You mean low, mid, and high Sequences?"
She nodded. "High Sequences are also known as demigods."
"Yes, and they can reach the angel title at Sequence 2, while those with multiple Sequence 1 characteristics are known as Kings of Angels. Lastly, sequence 0s are true Gods."
Irina's eyes flicked toward him. So far, so good. "Demigods and Gods aren't entirely human anymore. The higher you go, the more... divine you become."
She paused. Words mattered a lot here. How to explain something like this to someone who's still a middle Sequence? She didn't want to be the reason he died, lost control, or worse, got corrupted.
"Since you become something else, you start to forget what it even means to be human. You lose some of those memories. That's essentially what I'd call the loss of humanity."
Klein's brows drew together. Forget what it means to be human? His mind spun, trying to connect this to everything he already knew.
Irina stayed quiet, watching him closely as he came to his own conclusions. I just need to push him in the right direction; he's intelligent enough to figure out the rest, the pros of a protagonist.
The only sound echoing in the vast, ancient palace was the faint rhythm of Klein's finger tapping against the long, bronze table.
"By losing humanity," he said slowly, "do you mean things like... appearance? Emotions?"
"Well, technically yes," she replied. "But appearance can be altered by many high Sequence Beyonders. You're a good example with your faceless abilities."
She scratched her head in slight frustration. "It's a bit more complicated than that. I've always seen it this way: humanity is about not losing yourself. It's the little, small everyday things. The urge to pet a cat on the street. Feeling sad for someone else's pain. Smiling just because someone else smiled at you. Sharing someone's sorrow or joy without needing a reason or sharing a connection of any kind."
Her voice softened. "Not falling into madness. Not letting power make you forget who you were. Staying you, through all the Sequences. That's what humanity is."
Klein remained quiet, absorbing each word. Don't lose yourself... even as your nature changes.
"And anchors," he said after a long pause, "are meant to help preserve that?"
"Yes." She smiled faintly, eyes shining. "Why else do you think those powerful Gods, orthodox or not, spread their faith so far and wide?"
It was already Wednesday, nearing six in the evening. Outside, the sky had turned gray, heavy with clouds that swallowed the sunlight. Deep blue waves rolled and crashed against the White Agate.
"This is the sea, no matter how powerful one is, one will appear insignificant in front of it," Danitz said, standing by the window and enjoying the scenery outside. "Fortunately, we're almost at the City of Generosity."
From the moment they'd left Bansy Harbor, the journey had gone remarkably well. With the wind on their side, the White Agate maintained a steady fifteen knots. Despite a slight delay in docking at Tiana Port, they'd arrived a full half-day ahead of schedule.
Irina didn't even bother looking up as the maid spoke. Trying her best to create new spells, her pen scratched against paper, filling the pages of her notebook with experimental symbols, numbers, words, and more.
The more time she spent as Elena Jaeger, the more obvious it became that she'd chosen the wrong persona to digest her current Sequence. In hindsight, I really didn't think this through. She'd rushed it, relying on how quickly she'd moved through her previous sequences. But those were different.
I was born a Sequence 6, but Nefiref sealed them. Her hand paused. Because the original Irina nearly lost control. 'He' said I'd need to digest them one by one to break the seal, but also that it would be easier than a standard potion.
Her pen hovered above the paper for a quick moment before resuming its original purpose. Forgotten Mage. The title still felt somewhat vague and elusive, like a shadow she couldn't quite catch. I'm creating new spells based on what I already know and what I'm learning. That should count, right? But I haven't felt much digestion from it.
No, wait. She blinked, the pen stopping altogether just short of completing a looping circle. Tingen, when I used that sun spell on Megose! I felt part of the potion digest then. The memory floated back to the surface. I ignored it at the time because there was too much going on. But that was the only moment I ever felt it. Ever since then? Nothing. Not even when I fought those Mandated Punishers...
She twirled the pen idly between her fingers, eyes drifting toward Klein, who sat across from her. I've been interpreting 'Forgotten' as being quiet and subtle, basically fading into the background, but still powerful. After all this time, this doesn't look to be the case. Maybe it's about age. Her lips twitched. Ugh. I don't want to look like a granny just to digest this damn Sequence!
In one quick motion, she tore the page from her notebook, crumpled it with more force than necessary, and chucked it at Danitz.
He didn't even flinch. Without looking up, he raised a hand, catching it, and incinerated it. He'd done it enough times over the last few days, after the whole Bansy Harbor fiasco, that it had become part of his natural rhythm.
Why couldn't this one be straightforward like the others? Bookworm, History Teacher, and Custodian—simple titles, easy to understand. But nooo, now I have to interpret things like it's a damn riddle! I'm not as smart as Klein...
Danitz glanced over at her, then at Gehrman, then sighed internally. Still not talking to each other, huh? Been days. How long can two people avoid each other in the same cabin?! Just get it over with and solve it in bed or something, you're a couple after all!
His gaze lingered on Gehrman. Seriously though, this guy's great at everything except conversation. Doesn't talk, doesn't joke, barely breathes like a normal human. If I stay around him too long, I'll end up talking to the wall just to hear a voice.
Then he looked at Elena. And she's no better. Ever since we left Bansy, she's been moody and scribbling in that damn notebook. They're clearly mad at each other, and I have to third wheel them as if I were their maid or friend!
Just as he was about to retreat into another internal monologue, Gehrman Sparrow lifted his head and spoke in that usual calm voice, "You can tell me about the pirate points of contact in Bayam."
Danitz's face twitched. Dogshit! He barely stopped himself from groaning aloud. It's better when he says nothing at all!