"What exactly do you mean by 'something wrong'?"
Roselle crossed his arms, his expression sharp. "He conveniently obtained an invitation to my family's banquet through Dubois, just happened to stumble upon the murder scene, and then—what a coincidence—saved Bernadette. Don't you think that's all a little too coincidental?"
Zaratul shook his head. "At least according to my divinations, stumbling into the crime scene and saving your daughter were indeed coincidences. As for whether he has other motives…that I cannot say."
Roselle felt a bit more at ease. Whatever his intentions, the fact remained that this man had saved his daughter. Results mattered more than speculations.
"Hm? Aren't you an Angel of the Seer pathway? You can't divine something like this?"
Zaratul's gaze was as deep as an ancient well as he looked at Roselle. "It seems you have some misconceptions about Seers. No matter how powerful, a Seer cannot conjure knowledge out of nothing. Omniscience and omnipotence…that belongs to another pathway—no, another domain entirely, something beyond the level you should be concerned with right now."
"When will I be able to know?" Roselle pressed.
"At Sequence 2. Once you ascend to Angel, many things will become clear."
Damn it, Sequence 2 Angels again! Roselle cursed inwardly, then shrugged. "Fine. Let's go. You're going to help me divine that blasted stick."
———
Back at the villa on Rose Street No. 7, lights still glowed from the rooms and courtyard. The servants and slaves hadn't gone to bed—how could they, when their master had yet to return?
"Oh my, Mr. Sparrow, what happened to you?"
Akasha, who had been lounging on the sofa with a "special cocktail," sprang up in shock when she saw Dubois supporting a pale-faced Edward into the house. She was genuinely startled.
Mr. Sparrow was a demigod! He'd only gone to attend a banquet—who could possibly injure him?
"I'm fine."
Edward waved dismissively and said to Dubois, "Tell everyone to get some rest."
"Understood."
Arlde quickly stepped forward to support Edward, lowering his voice. "Did you encounter an enemy?"
"Tch, he's faking it," Akasha muttered, curling her lip. "What kind of act are you putting on now?"
"You'll hear the details from Dubois later. It was just an accident." Edward gave them both a glance. "Didn't expect the two of you to actually stay obediently at home."
Akasha turned her head away, clearly uncomfortable. Obedient, her? Not a chance. The moment Edward had left, she had tried to follow—but after half the night's effort, she hadn't even managed to step outside the villa. [False Reality] combined with [Space Concealment]…anyone who used them knew how impossible it was to slip past.
Once back in his bedroom, Edward retraced four steps and entered the Sefirah Castle, seating himself upon the bronze throne that belonged to him.
"Zaratul has discovered my Beyonder identity."
He intoned the divination statement and tossed a coin.
It landed with the number facing up—negative.
So…he hadn't discovered it?
That would mean Zaratul only arrived after he already burned those threads?
Edward rested his chin on his hand, thinking for a moment, then cast another divination:
"Zaratul suspects me."
This time, the coin showed a head.
"So my intuition was correct."
The only question was: would Zaratul act upon even the slightest suspicion and come knocking on his door?
The high-ranking Beyonders of the 'Cowardly Trio' pathway all had the same nature—cautious to the extreme, preparing every detail and contingency in advance, but once they decided to act, they struck with lightning speed and absolute force.
Klein, Zaratul, Amon—each was like this. Well…with the sole exception of Master Rosago, the Marionettist who had dared face two future high-level existences alone. He was pure recklessness, nothing else.
There's no such thing as a thief who lurks forever without stealing. I can't afford to sit back and wait for Zaratul to make a move against me.
Fighting him outright wasn't wise. But perhaps…
After a short silence, Edward nodded slightly to himself. "Then let's give it a try."
At once, he exited the Sefirah Castle, returning to reality. Then, in Hermes, he chanted his threefold invocation:
"The Eternal Sovereign Above Dimensions;
The Deconstructor of Endless Stories;
The Transcender of Past and Future."
Retracing four steps once more, he re-entered the Sefirah Castle.
Yes—this was precisely Klein's trick: praying to himself, responding to himself, transforming into a spirit state.
It might seem redundant, but this method granted him one crucial benefit: by terminating the summoning, he could ignore all restrictions and return to the Sefirah Castle instantly.
And unlike Klein, Edward could switch freely between spirit and corporeal form without range limitations.
With this setup, he lost nothing in terms of ability or flexibility, but gained what was essentially a "Return-to-Base Scroll" in his hand. A perfect little secret technique for living dangerously.
The only drawback? The spiritual consumption was hefty. Even at Sequence 4, he couldn't use it indefinitely.
Edward slipped out of the villa like a phantom, silent and traceless. He drifted over rooftops, glided past residence after residence, then suddenly teleported to hover above Roselle's estate.
"Zaratul's current location."
He produced his cane and tossed it into the air. Empowered by the Sefirah Castle, the cane spun in place before pointing toward a direction. Edward glided lightly through the night sky, soon arriving at a brightly lit room.
From within came Roselle's voice: "Did your divination reveal anything?"
Zaratul paused for a few seconds, then smiled faintly. "You have a guest."
"What?"
The door creaked open. Zaratul stood at the threshold, raising his head with a serene smile to meet Edward's gaze as he floated outside. He appeared motionless, but Edward instantly felt his body and mind turning sluggish, his movements stiff and delayed.
Zaratul was manipulating his spirit body threads, attempting to convert him into a marionette.
"Unfettered!"
Edward immediately invoked [Unfettered], breaking free from the control of the spirit body threads. Without haste, he smiled lightly and extended his hand toward Zaratul—stealing his current thoughts while simultaneously attempting to snatch his Beyonder powers.
The theft of thought succeeded. Zaratul froze for half a second, his mind blank. But the only powers Edward seized were Underwater Breathing and Paper Dagger. Edward wasn't surprised. His eyes turned, ancient and decayed gears grinding within their depths:
"Regression!"
This was the ability he had borrowed from Sequence 3 through [Delusion] at the moment of advancing to Sequence 4. He had tested it in secret on ordinary people and low-sequence Beyonders with remarkable results. But tonight was his first true battle—against an Angel two whole sequences above him.
The effect of [Regression] grew stronger, lasted longer, and became more reliable the more one understood their target. And right now, Edward was unquestionably one of the people in the world who understood Zaratul the most.
Coupled with the old man's brief lapse from stolen thoughts, leaving him utterly unguarded, the result was instantaneous.
The very moment [Regression] was cast, Zaratul's aura weakened drastically. When his consciousness returned, shock flashed across his eyes: he had fallen from Sequence 2…to Sequence 3.
Theft!
This Marauder-pathway Beyonder can steal my Sequence?! It lasted only seconds, but Zaratul immediately understood who his opponent must be: Amon!
Who else but the Marauder King of Angels could steal an Angel's Sequence outright? Of the few surviving descendants of the Jacob family, none had advanced so far.
Without hesitation, Zaratul dissolved into flames and shot into the distance.
"Heh…Amon's reputation is absurdly useful!"
Edward blinked across the space with Theft of Distance, blocking Zaratul's escape route. Smiling, he asked, "Lil' Zaratul, where are you running off to?"
But the fleeing "Zaratul" abruptly shifted, transforming into a woman—none other than the witch Edward had earlier seen turned into a marionette.
Edward chuckled and slipped a monocle onto his right eye. "Interesting." Of course, he hadn't truly worn one; it was merely a façade conjured with [False Reality].
Zaratul, however, could no longer discern truth from illusion. The marionette-witch's eyes widened in fear—then went glassy, her body locking rigidly as Zaratul discarded her completely.
Inside, Roselle was utterly stunned.
What had he just witnessed?
That mysterious, immensely powerful Zaratul—a Sequence 2 Angel—had been driven off in mere moments by this man.
What level of power was that?
Sequence 1?
Or…something beyond?
Once certain Zaratul had retreated, Edward turned his gaze on Roselle. After a brief moment of eye contact, he ended his self-summoning and vanished into thin air.
"He's…gone?"
Roselle let out a long breath. That man had clearly come for Zaratul. Still, the oppressive force of his presence lingered, suffocating. Roselle had no doubt that with a mere flick of his finger, the man could crush him like an insect.
His own hand clenched into a fist.
The Beyonder world…it wasn't one where you could coast through life just by inventing things, earning wealth, and enjoying status. Not this cursed world.
For the first time in a long while, Roselle felt truly anxious about his own strength.
No. I can't afford to slack any longer. I must push myself to ascend to Demigod—only then will I feel even a shred of security.
———
Within the Sefirah Castle.
Edward reclined against the bronze throne, a smile tugging at his lips. "With this, Zaratul likely won't dare show his face in Trier for quite some time. With 'Amon' lurking here, and knowing how Seers operate, he'll avoid this place like the plague."
That meant Zaratul would also avoid making trouble for "Klein Sparrow."
And as a pleasant surprise, his Secrets Sorcerer potion had also digested further.
On top of that, he'd earned a favourable impression in Roselle's eyes with his little performance of saving Bernadette. The connection was established. All that remained was to follow through—meeting Arrodes at Trier Cathedral was only a matter of time now.
This banquet had been more than fruitful.
Just then, in the crimson fog, a star began to expand and contract—a new star. It wasn't Bernadette's, nor Reinette Tinekerr's.
A newcomer?
Edward stretched out his spirituality to touch the star. A hazy scene unfolded within the misty grey:
It was Roselle.
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.