Dubois: "…"
Roselle clicked his tongue. "Tch. I could have pulled a few strings to get you out too, but I figured you wouldn't want to owe me a favour, right?"
"…"
Dubois's continued silence made Roselle's one-man show feel a bit dull. He gave a cold snort and stopped bothering with him.
Edward chuckled quietly beside Dubois. "Oh? I thought you'd act ungrateful—maybe even trade barbs with him like you did at the Roselle family banquet the other day."
Dubois shook his head. "I'm not that clueless, Mr. Sparrow. Whether I like it or not, this time I do owe Roselle a favour."
The group soon left the prison and came to a carriage waiting by the roadside.
Roselle said, "I'll try finding someone to pull strings with Clair, but…you should be prepared. Someone will have to bear the brunt of his fury at losing his only heir."
The only reason Roselle stepped in for Edward was because he thought Edward had been dragged into this because of him—and partly to repay the debt of Edward saving Bernadette.
But he was never going to put much effort into saving a housekeeper. No matter how much he admired her guts, a servant was still just a servant.
In this era—or even centuries later—the life of an ordinary person was still the cheapest of all currencies.
"I understand. Thank you, Roselle."
"No need for thanks!"
Roselle vaulted into his carriage with a grin. "I'll be waiting for the invitation to your housewarming banquet."
The carriage rumbled off into the distance.
Dubois turned to Edward. "Mr. Sparrow, did you see Miss Akasha just now?"
"I did. You don't need to worry about her too much for the moment."
"Why?"
"There are some things you don't need to know."
Dubois opened his mouth but swallowed his words, lost in thought.
The two rented another carriage back to 7 Rose Street. Edward instructed Dubois to keep an eye on Akasha and Count Clair's movements, then retreated to his bedroom. With four backwards steps, he ascended to the Source Fortress.
Seated on the bronze throne, he thought for a while before manifesting a quill and parchment. He wrote down the divination statement:
"The truth behind Akasha's incident this morning."
He closed his eyes and entered a dream.
In the hazy vision, Akasha appeared, dressed in her "office lady" outfit as she browsed the servant hiring market. A handsome blond youth in his twenties noticed her, paused, and glanced several times in her direction.
At that moment, a slave merchant led a dozen slaves past. A carriage rolled by, creating brief chaos. One slave stumbled and bumped into the blond youth. He frowned, but the merchant hurried to apologise.
Abruptly, the young man shoved the merchant aside and strode toward Akasha—then the events Dubois had described unfolded.
The vision shattered into blackness.
Ten seconds later, within the darkness, a blurred silhouette emerged, speaking in a solemn tone:
"All for the trend of the times."
Snap.
The dream ended. Edward's eyes snapped open.
As expected—it really was the Twilight Hermit Order pulling the strings.
He tapped his fingers on the armrest, a trace of doubt in his eyes. Why would the Order send someone like Akasha—a mere Sequence 6—to assassinate a powerful count like Cliel?
In the future, when they attempted to assassinate Duke Negan, their first pawn was Qilangos—also a Sequence 6, yes, but one who wielded the Sealed Artifact Creeping Hunger. In actual combat, that was equivalent to a Sequence 5 powerhouse.
If not for Audrey discovering it, that assassination might have succeeded.
Unless Count Clair was completely unguarded, without Beyonder protection, Akasha couldn't possibly kill him.
"Tch. If I interfere directly…will that draw Adam's attention and displeasure?"
Even with that concern, Edward knew: if Roselle failed to resolve this through official channels, he would have no choice but to personally extract Akasha and send her back to Feynapotter.
Having made up his mind, he as usual devoured abilities from Groselle's Travels and Book of Calamity, then stretched his spirituality toward a deep crimson star in the fog.
——
Meanwhile—
Over the course of a full day and night, Pallez Zoroast scoured Trier from end to end.
Though he knew he needed to find a host soon, he didn't rush. Whenever weakness overwhelmed him, he simply stole small bits of life force from healthy passersby.
For Pallez, parasitism was not merely about surviving weakness. It was a kind of symbiosis. Only by cooperating with his host could he truly recover.
Last time, in desperation, he had chosen an Abraham descendant—seemingly a good option. Yet that fool nearly dragged him to death. This time, he had to choose more carefully.
But just then, endless grey fog swept across his vision.
In the next moment, the world shifted around him—he once again stood in that mysterious "little garden."
The mysterious presence—suspected to be Sefirah Castle itself gaining sentience—had indeed seized complete control over his life.
"Your Excellency, may I ask why you summoned me?"
Pallez gave a slight bow.
"Pick a chair and sit."
Edward gestured casually.
"I recall you said yesterday that the reason you broke into Amon's tomb was because the Abraham descendant you were parasitising acted on his own, ignoring your warnings?"
"That's correct!"
Edward cut straight to the point: "I want to find the hiding place of the Abraham descendants. Do you know where they are?"
"I know a little."
"Where?"
Pallez did not withhold. "According to that Abraham descendant I was attached to, their branch seemed to be hidden near the county of Midseashire in Loen. But the exact location—he never revealed."
Midseashire County, huh?
Edward pressed: "Anything else? More precise information about the Abrahams?"
Pallez hesitated, then carefully asked: "Your Excellency…may I ask why you seek them?"
"I need one of the Abraham family's Sealed Artifacts," Edward replied evenly.
"I see."
Pallez nodded. "Forgive me, I truly know nothing more about their whereabouts. But…yesterday in Trier, I did encounter someone who seemed to be an Abraham descendant."
"Oh?"
"I only noticed him from afar, but that familiar aura—I couldn't be mistaken." He looked slightly embarrassed. "However, after my last misstep, I immediately kept my distance. So I don't know where he is now."
Edward mulled this over. After Mr. Door's disappearance, the Abraham family had been devastated by both external suppression and the madness of the full moon's whispers. They had scattered, breaking into small hidden groups across the continent. For a few of them to appear in Trier was not surprising.
"If you discover that descendant again," Edward instructed, "recite my honorifics immediately to inform me."
"I understand."
"Oh, one more thing—do you know how to reach Bethel?"
At the sudden name, Pallez blanked for half a beat. "You mean…'Mr. Door'? I'm sorry, I don't. Back then we were enemies, each supporting opposing empires."
"…Fine."
So then…
Edward's gaze left Pallez and drifted into the depths of the grey fog, his spirituality stretching toward the crimson star that represented Reinette Tinekerr. He spoke calmly, "Find a safe, empty place. Count to one hundred. I'll come to you."
——
Southern Continent, Highlands Kingdom
Reinette sat listening as elders of the Temperance Faction reported the latest moves of the Indulgence Faction. Her brows knit tighter and tighter. Truth be told, ever since Mother Tree of Desire had suddenly attacked her last week, she had expected this turn. Yet reality was still bitter to accept.
And there was nothing she could do.
For most people in the world, a Sequence 2 angel was an unattainable, godlike existence. But to an Outer God…it was pitifully weak.
"I've heard enough," Reinette said calmly. "We must continue to avoid the Indulgence Faction's edge."
"Leader, if this continues, our Temperance Faction will be driven completely out of the Rose School."
"Survival matters more than anything."
"But more and more within the faction wonder—if temperance brings only repression and retreat, why not embrace indulgence and enjoy pleasure instead?"
Reinette's reply was cool: "Those who think that way were never suited for Temperance to begin with."
At that moment, endless grey-white fog suddenly welled before her eyes.
A hazy figure seated upon a bronze throne intoned:
"Find a safe, empty place. Count to one hundred. I'll come to you."
In the blink of an eye, the fog and figure vanished.
Her heart thumped hard. She glanced around—the elders seemed utterly unaware anything had occurred.
"You're dismissed. Leave me time to consider."
"Yes, Leader."
Once they were gone, Reinette drifted through walls in wraith form until she reached a secret chamber. She lay down, clutching the Chained God's puppet, and waited silently for the mysterious "Chairman."
Truthfully, she had been anticipating this moment.
Only gods could oppose gods.
If she could draw this grey-fog "god" into conflict with Mother Tree of Desire, the Outer Deity would have no leisure to meddle with the Rose School. Then Temperance would no longer need to retreat—it could strike back.
"Ninety-two, ninety-three…ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred."
The instant she reached the count, her vision blurred. When clarity returned, she found herself in the grey-shrouded little garden, seated at the bronze round table.
The self-proclaimed "Chairman" still sat in the main seat. But this time, a new figure occupied a chair diagonally opposite—another member?
Reinette remembered the last time she came, the "Chairman" had said he might convene a gathering here.
"Welcome, Miss No-Head. It's a pleasure to see you again," Edward's voice rang out.
Reinette inclined her head. "Greetings, mysteri…Chairman."
"You may call her 'Miss No-Head.' Of course, that's just her codename. Actually, I suddenly feel 'No-Brain' sounds better. Would you consider changing it?"
Reinette: "…" Whatever makes you happy.
Edward chuckled, then turned to the other. "And this is Mr. No-Characteristic."
Pallez: "…"
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.