"Klein, even after dying, you're still such a handful." Leonard gave a bitter smile. "Since you still remembered me as a friend, I won't hold this dream message against you. Just... don't make it so terrifying next time."
After finishing his bath and changing into a fresh set of clothes, Leonard saw that it was still somewhat early. He returned to bed and began calling out to the old man in his mind.
Perhaps the old man could give him an explanation for this dream incident.
"A dream message? How would I know what you encountered in your dream? I have no interest in spying on those messy dreams of yours," the old man's disdainful voice sounded.
"But I keep feeling that this dream was far too real. How should I put it... Do you think Klein's spirit might really have returned to Backlund from the sea?"
"Heh. The spirits near Saint Samuel Cathedral have long since gone to rest deep underground. How could one possibly run over to you?"
Leonard sighed. "That's what I think too, but I still feel there was something unusual about that dream."
After a while, the old man only softly uttered two words.
"Fate."
"Sending a dream is also a kind of fate?" Leonard became even more confused.
The old man chuckled without explaining what he meant by fate. Instead, he said, "In the Beyonder world, dead people can open their mouths and speak. Sending a dream isn't all that unusual either. Even coming back to life wouldn't be anything worth making a fuss over."
"Sigh, I also hope Klein is still alive."
"I've said before that your luck is quite good. Perhaps your wish might actually come true."
His wish coming true? Leonard immediately recalled Klein's gruesome dead appearance from the dream and hurriedly rejected the idea.
"That kind of wish coming true is something I definitely don't want."
This time, the old man gave Leonard no further answer. He only let out one final sigh, as though lamenting something.
Leonard sat alone on the bed, unable to sleep until after six in the morning. Only then did he briefly tidy his hair, leave his room, hail a carriage, and head toward the South Borough, to Klein's former home.
Back when Klein had sacrificed himself, the Church had paid to purchase the house so that Benson and Melissa could continue living there without worry. They had also been given a death compensation payment.
Knock, knock, knock.
Leonard knocked on the door.
After a while, Benson opened it. Compared to before, Benson's usually expressionless face now carried a little more life.
"Sorry to disturb you." Leonard entered the house.
This was only his second visit. The last time, he had personally come here to tell Benson and Melissa the news of Klein's death.
"What is it?" Benson poured Leonard a cup of hot tea and went straight to the point. "I still need to go to work later. I don't have much time to chat."
Leonard swept his gaze around the house but didn't notice anything unusual. He withdrew his gaze and smiled.
"I just wanted to see whether there was anything you needed help with in your daily lives."
"No. We're doing well. Really, we are." As Benson spoke, his gaze turned toward a framed photograph placed at the center of the living room.
It was a photograph of Klein, Benson, and Melissa taken together during the New Year.
"It's like this. Last night, I dreamed that Klein sent me a message. He asked me to take good care of you."
Leonard ultimately chose to tell them about it.
Benson's eyes immediately reddened. Even Melissa, who had been secretly listening from the inner room, opened the door and came out.
"H-He really sent you a dream?" Melissa sat with Benson on the sofa opposite Leonard, disbelief in her voice and her eyes faintly red.
"Mm." Leonard nodded.
Benson lowered his head in silence. Melissa wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes and cautiously asked, "Is he... doing well?"
"He's doing very well. He also asked the two of you to take care of yourselves and not grieve too much because of his departure."
After saying this, Leonard tugged slightly at the corner of his mouth.
He definitely didn't dare describe Klein's miserable appearance in the dream. Doing so would be no different from stabbing a knife directly into Benson and Melissa's hearts.
"We'll be fine. We'll keep living well," Benson said in a heavy voice.
After a long while, Benson suggested, "I miss him a little. Do you want to come with us to see him?"
"All right." Leonard agreed.
After last night's dream, he had also been thinking about visiting Klein's grave.
After briefly tidying up, the three of them closed the door, went downstairs, hailed a carriage, and headed toward the cemetery where Klein had been buried after his death.
While waiting for the carriage, Leonard happened to glance toward the street-facing side of a restaurant and saw a familiar figure.
It wasn't until they had boarded the carriage and passed the restaurant that he finally got a clear look at the person.
It was the same person he and Hastur had encountered that night at the Bravehearts Bar.
The carriage quickly passed by the window. Through the glass, Klein watched the carriage travel away before withdrawing his gaze and calmly continuing to enjoy today's breakfast.
Everything was going quite well.
...
As the day of George III's nationwide speech gradually approached, the chaotic situation in Backlund suddenly and quietly settled down.
Everything became completely still, and the final three days passed without any disturbances.
On this day, just after midnight, the starry sky shone brilliantly, yet Backlund was once again engulfed by an enormous wave of chaos.
People were causing disturbances all across the city.
Some incidents were as minor as setting houses on fire, while others involved shooting people dead in the streets, suddenly holding evil sacrificial rituals, or even boldly attempting to assassinate important ministers and nobles of the Loen Kingdom.
Under these circumstances, the three major Churches only dispatched a small portion of their personnel to maintain a certain degree of order.
Most of their manpower and resources remained focused on the movements of the Loen royal family.
Hastur silently stood on the balcony, watching the chaos and madness unfolding throughout Backlund that night.
Once this night passed, George III would emerge from his royal palace and walk onto the speech platform he had prepared long ago.
There, he would address the people of the entire Loen Kingdom. It would be a speech declaring total war.
Perhaps knowing that Hastur intended to do something, Sharron had deliberately returned to help him look after Ariella.
At this moment, Ariella was comfortably lying in her arms, enjoying delicious dried fish.
"On a night like this, how could we just sit around waiting?"
Hastur withdrew his gaze and sat down at the small table beside Sharron. Then he had the maids who were still awake prepare some fine wine and food.
"You're quite relaxed?" Sharron couldn't quite understand what Hastur was thinking.Hastur smiled. "You don't actually think I'm planning to assassinate George III in the middle of the street, do you?"
Sharron merely looked at him quietly.
Her meaning was very clear. If it were him, he really might do something that reckless and daring.
"Sigh, how could you think I'm that stupid? Assassination is Ariella's job."
"Meow?"
Ariella, who had suddenly been named, let out an unhappy cry.
"I have a feeling you're going to do something." Sharron glanced toward the distant chaos that continued to erupt. "Is this what you were hoping for?"
"Creating chaos and guiding chaos are indeed things I need for my acting."
"You've progressed very quickly." Sharron sincerely admired the speed at which Hastur's strength had advanced.
At this rate, Hastur would soon surpass her. Perhaps he had already surpassed her in many other ways.
Hastur sighed. "That isn't necessarily a good thing."
Advancing too quickly was definitely not a good thing.
For details, one only had to look at Klein. He had always worried that he might end up walking the same path as Klein.
That was why, even now, he was still contemplating whether he should switch pathways when advancing to Sequence 4.
Should he choose the Justiciar pathway, the Beyonder pathway left behind by the King in Yellow, or perhaps the Stars pathway?
He was afraid that one careless step might lead to successive advancements, launching him from Sequence 4 all the way to Sequence 0 like a rocket. And then some existence might awaken inside his body.
Sharron said nothing.
She agreed with Hastur.
It wasn't a good thing.
The night quickly passed.
No matter how chaotic the darkness became, the sun would still rise as usual.
When George III's carriage emerged from the open gates of the royal palace, the chaos had already been suppressed by order.
People gathered along both sides of the streets, watching as George III made his way toward the prepared speech platform behind a solemn and orderly ceremonial procession.
The nobles and ministers of the Loen Kingdom had already gathered there, waiting to hear George III's speech.
As an earl, Hastur was naturally among the nobles.
He sat with the other aristocrats on either side of the speech platform and watched George III step down from his carriage and walk forward one step at a time.
Unlike the other nobles, they wanted to witness how George III would bring the Loen Kingdom to its peak.
Hastur wanted to personally witness how George III would walk step by step toward destruction.
Indeed, from the very beginning, Hastur had never intended to personally destroy George III's mausoleums.
They were targeting four mausoleums in total.
Mr. Fool had taken responsibility for two. Of the remaining two, one had been handed over to Bernadette and the other to Lady Lisa.
If Klein hadn't come seeking cooperation, Hastur could have had the Vessel of the Stars come here personally.
Even Gregrace and Sharron's teacher could have taken action. He could also have asked Ouroboros to participate.
He could even sit atop the Hall of Stars and use the authority of divine revelation to make members of the Demoness Sect turn against George III.
He had far too many choices. There was simply no need for his true body to take the risk of acting personally.
All he needed to do was sit among the audience and wait to see how George III would fall.
"It's time for your performance to begin, Mr. Fool."
Hastur looked at George III, who had already taken his place before the microphone and was preparing to begin his speech.
He silently murmured those words in his heart.