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Although he was a bit disappointed that he didn't get a Sequence 3 Silver Knight potion formula today, Klein still conveyed the Demon Hunter Colin's idea to Mr. Emperor.
After doing all this, Klein quickly sank his consciousness back to the real world. After all, he was still in the Royal Museum. Although he didn't think the Machinery Hivemind members on guard would pay special attention to the washroom, it was still better to be careful.
Feigning a slight stomachache, Klein walked out of the washroom as if nothing had happened, but his peripheral vision kept an eye on his surroundings. After confirming that no one was paying attention to him, Klein circled around and returned to the exhibition hall he had just left.
He found that the woman in the somewhat unconventional attire had already left. Just as Klein was still searching for items related to bookmarks, his spirituality stirred, and his eyes instantly froze, staring blankly in a certain direction.
Not far away, in front of a transparent glass display case, Benson, with his thinning hair, skillfully protected his sister and his wallet, following the crowd and the guide to the next display case.
Suddenly, as if by telepathy, they simultaneously turned their heads, only to see the bustling crowd.
Melissa withdrew her gaze and quietly said to her brother:
"The church must have recommended a very good job for you, Benson. Once you're settled, you must hurry and find a sister-in-law."
Benson looked at the mature-acting Melissa, feeling a bit helpless. Ever since Klein died, she seemed to have matured overnight, so much so that it pained him.
Because he knew his sister liked machinery, Benson specifically brought her to visit the Roselle Memorial Hall today, hoping to help her relax.
Looking at Melissa, Benson asked in a low, worried voice:
"What about you?"
"Don't do anything foolish. You're the only family I have left..."
Melissa suddenly looked up, her stubborn eyes just like when she had resolutely decided to leave Tingen:
"Someone has to do something, don't they?"
Because he knew Melissa had already advanced to Sequence 8 Archaeologist, and her spiritual intuition was enhanced, Klein carefully used the Magician's ability to create illusions to subtly follow behind them to avoid being discovered.
Unconsciously, Klein followed the flow of people out of the Royal Museum and silently sat in the last row of a public carriage, watching Benson trying to cheer up his sister, a smile unconsciously curving his lips.
As the afterglow of the sunset spilled down, Benson took Melissa to 46 Bok Street in the North Borough. This place was not far from St. Samuel's Church and was a rather high-quality residence.
Although he didn't know why the church arranged such a house for him and his sister, Bishop Electra didn't explain much, so Benson could only attribute it to the Goddess's grace.
Klein stood quietly in the shadows across the street, the gloom in his heart dissipating completely after this afternoon's companionship, and even his spirituality became much more active.
Silently noting down the address, Klein felt a sense of reluctance but forced himself to turn around, sighing in his heart:
"Being targeted by the True Creator, I should not get involved with the people and affairs of Tingen. There is a certain risk of exposure."
"And once exposed, with the madness of the Aurora Order, they definitely won't let Benson and Melissa go....."
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The Rorsted Archipelago, northeast of the Berserk Sea, Oravi Island.
It was originally a primitive island with many Beyonder creatures and no human inhabitants. After the Age of Hunting ended, the Loen Kingdom used it as a place of exile for certain criminals, gradually giving Oravi Island villages and towns.
When the islands further east were discovered and colonized one by one, this place, relying on the convenience of its shipping lanes and its rich natural resources, attracted many new immigrants, developing relatively prosperous port cities.
This city was mainly populated by Loen immigrants, and its food style was not much different from the eastern coast of the Kingdom. Coupled with its rich natural resources and its position at a key point on a safe shipping lane, it had always been an area controlled by the Rieveldt family.
Therefore, Admiral Amyrius Rieveldt, the supreme naval commander of the Central Sonia Sea, often inspected the Oravi Naval Base. After all, this way, he wouldn't need to stay in the naval headquarters of the Central Sonia Sea, Bayam, the City of Generosity.
He could avoid Sea King Aarn Cottman, and also avoid George Negan, the Governor of the Rorsted Archipelago, who represented the interests of the royal family, thus having much less restraint in his actions.
At the Oravi Governor's Mansion, Amyrius Rieveldt, dressed in a dark blue naval admiral's uniform, paused slightly while flipping through a telegram. He half-turned his head and cast his gaze towards a young man in a swallowtail formal suit.
The other party had neatly combed golden hair, a slightly high hairline, and light blue eyes. His appearance was refined and scholarly.
Within his azure eyes seemed to hide an undeniable and unchallengeable authority. Amyrius Rieveldt folded the telegram in his hand and said indifferently:
"Luan, send a telegram to the main officers of the First Fleet, telling them not to conflict with the fleet of the Vice Admiral Moon. If necessary, they can actively cooperate."
"Yes, Admiral." The blonde secretary Luan did not ask for the reason and put the document, which Emlyn had already marked in red, into his black briefcase.
"You can leave. Tell Aston Rieveldt that I have something to do tonight, so he doesn't need to come looking for me!"
Luan's expression became even more respectful. After saluting, he quietly left the study with muffled footsteps.
Emlyn slowly rose and paced to the window, looking at the night sky. His voice was deep and solemn as he said:
"Few people should know about my secret return to Oravi Island, and it doesn't seem to be the time on the invitation yet, Duke Aaron!"
As the deep voice echoed, in the corner of the room, colors suddenly became rich and mottled, and Aaron, with a smile on his lips, appeared, looking at the Weavers on the window, and replied briskly:
"In this world, often, what you consider a secret may not be a secret in the eyes of others. What's more important is what choice you make."
Also, the magic mirror Arrodes told me about you being on Oravi Island tonight... Aaron silently added a sentence in his heart and slowly walked towards Amyrius Rieveldt, his aura rising steadily until it was on par with him.
Listening to the pointed words, Amyrius Rieveldt's expression remained unchanged, but his azure eyes narrowed slightly.
After leaving Admiral Amyrius's room, the blonde secretary Luan had just approached a lounge when he saw the door open and a middle-aged man, who had seemingly been waiting, walked out.
This man had black hair and blue eyes, and his facial features bore five or six similarities to Emlyn, only his forehead was higher, his eye bags were slightly swollen, and the corners of his mouth had not yet drooped.
He was Amyrius Rieveldt's youngest brother, Aston Rieveldt, the Governor of Oravi Island.
As soon as he saw Luan, Aston immediately leaned closer and said in a low voice:
"Take me to see the Admiral. I have something to discuss with him. This was arranged beforehand."
Luan saluted first and replied sincerely:
"Governor, the Admiral has important matters to attend to tonight. He specifically instructed me to ask you to schedule another time."
Frowning slightly, Aston Rieveldt watched Luan's retreating back, his expression gradually turning cold, and he shook his head with a very small movement.
-----------------
Outside Green Cemetery, in a secluded grove, the crimson moonlight spilled into a not-so-deep tomb.
Inside the tomb, there were no rotting corpses or bones. The bottom was strewn with pieces of white feathers, white feathers stained with pale yellow grease!
Patrick Bryan, dressed in a black robe, stood indifferently by the tomb. A white feather floated up and landed in his hand:
"It seems he has been resurrected and is searching for past memories."
This tomb contained the former head of the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death faction in Backlund, who was also an Undying. It was precisely because he needed to enter the tomb to resurrect that he appointed Patrick Bryan to take over his work.
Suddenly, water-like patterns rippled across the ground, and a chilling aura spread with them, causing the bonfire's light to dim slightly.
Immediately after, a skull with three dead fish eyes emerged from the void, surrounded by black, segmented tentacles haphazardly entwined around it.
One of the tentacles stretched out and handed over an envelope permeated with the aura of Death. Patrick Bryan glanced at it, and his expression immediately changed slightly.
He immediately put away the letter and looked at the several Numinous Episcopate believers dressed in black robes, saying in a low voice:
"A distinguished guest is visiting; I need to return to the main altar. I'll leave things here to you. Remember, be clean and leave no traces."
As his voice fell, his figure merged into the mottled world of an oil painting, leaving only the silent, corpse-like black-robed figures, the several people bound on the ground, and a few corpses.
Feeling the bone-chilling coldness emanating from the Azik copper whistle in his arms slowly receding, Klein tentatively peered out from the treetop, looking at the relatively open and flat area not far away.
Tonight, he had come specifically to Green Cemetery to test the negative effects of the Azik copper whistle on corpses. He hadn't expected the copper whistle to react abnormally as soon as he approached the cemetery.
It seems that the terrifying fellow who caused the Azik copper whistle's anomaly has left. Hmm, it was indeed "Spirit Dance," a ritual magic that even ordinary people can participate in...
Klein shifted his gaze towards the black-robed man, who was the only one not performing the "Spirit Dance," standing like a corpse by the tomb and chanting incantations. His spiritual intuition told him that this person was the only one among them who posed a threat to him.
Accompanied by the strange "Spirit Dance" and the eerie chanting, the several corpses on the ground suddenly crawled up and raised their heads, revealing their pale white teeth, along with bits of rotten flesh stuck between their teeth and blood dripping from their mouths.
Just as the black-robed man was about to continue manipulating them, he suddenly felt his thoughts slow down, making it difficult to control his body. In his suddenly enlarged pupils, a figure emerging from flames was reflected.
With the Magician's flame jump and the assistance of the All-Black Eye, Klein almost instantly killed this Numinous Episcopate member, who was likely around Sequence 6 or 7.
But this also reached his limit. Outside the gray fog space, at his current level, he could only use the All-Black Eye once at most. However, the remaining black-robed figures were nothing but small fry to him.
Putting away the All-Black Eye, Klein held the Azik copper whistle and a matchbox in one hand, while continuously lighting and flicking out matches with the other, throwing them onto the ground.
During this process, he retreated in an arc.
The pale-faced, foul-smelling corpses rushed over, their vacant eyes fixed on the ancient and exquisite copper whistle in Klein's hand.
As Klein retreated, he puffed out his cheeks, aimed at the corpses, and used air bullets.
Puff! A portion of each corpse's head shattered, and rotten liquid continuously dripped from inside.
However, this was not a fatal wound for them. Their thumping run only paused slightly before resuming.
Seeing this, Klein took a step back and snapped his fingers.
Pop!
A bright flame rose from the ground, enveloping the corpse and igniting its outer garment.
Thump, thump, thump!
The corpse charged through the flames, continuing forward like a mad bull.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Klein snapped his fingers repeatedly, causing one crimson flame after another to rise from the ground.
The corpses charged through these flames without feeling pain, their bodies gradually starting to burn, and the intensity increased, giving a bizarre sensation of candles melting.
The corpses seemed to have finally exhausted all their strength, no longer struggling, and rapidly melted away in the slightly greenish flames, turning into ashes and wax.
"They are stronger than all the Zombies and Wraiths I've encountered before. Hmm, they're not as strong as Mr. Azik's descendants. If it weren't for me, they would all die here today."
After dealing with the remaining black-robed figures, Klein shook his head and walked through the woods towards the open area.
The unconstrained crowd initially scattered, but as they ran, finding themselves alone, they timidly stopped, returned to their original spot, and huddled together.
Having just experienced the awakening of corpses and the biting of flesh, they truly dared not flee alone in the deep night.
This would make them feel a chill down their necks.
In the brief, heart-pounding silence, they were astonished to see a Clown, dressed in flamboyant clothes and painted with red, yellow, and white greasepaint, emerge from the woods.
This was an illusion directly created by Klein.
The newly freed individuals exchanged glances, and someone blurted out:
"Excuse me, excuse me, how should we address you?"
Klein smiled and deliberately misled the other party, replying in a low voice:
"I am merely a Gatekeeper of Hell."
As he spoke, a mist suddenly enveloped him, and his figure vanished from where he stood.
Of course, these were all illusions.
"A Gatekeeper of Hell?" The rescued people repeated the words in low voices, each with their own thoughts for a moment.
However, after a bone-chilling cold wind blew through, they trembled again, helped up their companions, and left the place without daring to look back.
Moments later, amidst the swaying tree shadows, Klein's figure reappeared. This active portrayal of a Magician was quite successful, and feeling satisfied with the changes in his body, he walked towards the excavated grave.
First, he searched the Numinous Episcopate member who was clearly the leader, and finally, Klein found an exquisitely crafted copper whistle that did not appear old.
Could it be that all the Numinous Episcopate's messenger summoning artifacts are copper whistles? What kind of tradition is this?
With numerous questions flashing through his mind, Klein immediately got up and walked towards the pried-open grave.
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