Confuse.
This was Tristan's only emotion at that moment.
There was no doubt that the handwriting on the letter belonged to Klein Moretti; the facts were right in front of him. But could he take this note with its uneven edges as a joke by "The Dog of Forge"?
The "Dog of Fortune" has only one master, and the identity of the person who wrote the letter is self-evident...
Amidst unspeakable doubt and shock, the seed of questioning died in the withered nursery before it could even sprout. Its shriveled and wrinkled shell vanished quietly, without even a chance to spread its roots, leaving no room for the speculations of the "ancient scholars."
From that perspective, this note must have come from the Lord… Tristan, kneeling on one knee, bowed his head, expelling the last bit of oxygen from his chest.
He carefully put away the note, tried to breathe, and used a hoarse voice, like two pieces of gravel rubbing together, which he himself was unaware of, to drive his voice and polish each word.
"I understand."
Overwhelmed by complex emotions, he momentarily forgot to draw a gesture of praise on his chest. Seeing that the task given to him by his master had been successfully completed, "The Hound of Fortune" shook its massive head, barked briefly to summon a new cloud of gray mist, and leaped into it. Its black body, entangled with flames, instantly dissolved into the cold.
The room remained silent. The powerful spirit creature known as the "messenger of the mysterious god" had left, but no one rose from the ground, maintaining the utmost humility.
"go out."
Tristan's voice wasn't loud; it boomed through the house, easily drowning out the sound of the waves and the howling wind outside the window.
Alger, whose entire body was in close contact with the floor, suddenly trembled. He was startled at first, then quickly got up, took several steps back, and retreated from the doorway, trying to close the door behind him.
"Wait a moment."
Alger, whose palm was resting on the doorknob, immediately stopped, standing like a statue.
He exhaled slowly, the air flowing from between his teeth, his dark gaze carefully parting the seaweed-like mess of long hair, landing precisely on the second button of the count's Quaternary classical attire.
Tristan leaned back, trying to hide his unconscious forward lean, his handsome face looking around with a straight expression, but Evelyn could only see blankness in his eyes.
"Eve, you should leave too."
The lifeless, empty shell of a body moves only through its former habits and the threads of its spirit. Upon hearing her lover's command, Evelyn did not hesitate for a moment, turning and walking toward the door crack that Alger had carefully left half a person's width of.
Click.
As he watched the door close and the lock engage, Tristan twisted his wrist, locking the room and its corresponding spirit world environment together with himself, severing them from reality.
Almost simultaneously, Tristan, who had been holding his nerves, could no longer hold back. His mental breakdown caused the bones in his legs to snap, and he staggered backward. Even when his waist hit the corner of the only desk in the captain's cabin, he did not stop, losing his balance and falling to the ground.
When he realized who wrote the handwriting on the note, a primal urge burst forth from his brain, crashing against his memories, roaring repeatedly, and traveling down his nerves and spine, from doubt to fear, from madness to confusion. The viral spread was fleeting, and after his only relative and subordinate left, all that remained was absurdity.
Ha, that's truly absurd.
"The Dogs of Forge" couldn't possibly mistake one person for another, so Klein Moretti really is the master?
Tristan's lips parted in an exaggerated arc, the ironic reality screaming in his ears, each heavy blow making him acutely aware of his pulse losing control.
Fate really played a cruel joke on him.
Think about it, what did he say to Klein Moretti?
He persuaded Klein to temporarily abandon the mission of reclaiming the "Calamity," used sophistry to confuse the interests of the Empire with personal will, and even asserted that Klein Moretti had no desire for loyalty and honor, falsely accusing him of being no different from the faithless ones of the Fourth Age and having heretical thoughts.
Oh, that seems to be true. His Lord, who wanders among the gods, only confides in one, while the others are merely playing along for the sake of pleasing everyone, is indeed a faithless one who sees through the so-called loyalty and glory and turns a deaf ear to faith...
After a hasty yet fluent exchange of ideas, Tristan regained his composure.
He tried to compose himself, and, supporting himself against the wall behind him, he staggered to his feet.
Actually... Klein Moretti might not be the main character.
The special nature of the "Fool" in the rules dictates that even if the Lord is weakened after his return, he will not appear in a form that has lost all his divinity.
Klein Moretti is only at Sequence Five, yet his advancement is incredibly rapid, and his suitability for the "Diviner" path is practically tailor-made for him. But that doesn't prove anything.
In the Fourth Age, there were few extraordinary individuals with similar talents and experiences to him, but they were not nonexistent. The reason he always attracted attention was more due to the obvious favoritism of the Creator.
Tristan, whose legs were still weak, asked himself these questions: "The Dog of Fugen" called him master, Zarathustra's ambiguous attitude toward him, and his own country's gradual concessions and indulgence.
"So Klein Moretti is not only a chosen one of the gods, but also a vessel for divine intervention in the making?"
Always mindful of etiquette, he disregarded his brief lapse in composure and racked his brains, desperately trying to recall every file he had ever browsed on Friedrich Zarathustra's desk.
Pope's prophecy, the attempt at a saturation-style divine descent, the second divine descent plan, the Tingen incident, the Backlund smog, the assassination of the prince... one major event after another, in which Klein Moretti's figure appeared, flashed through his mind, then overlapped at the end of the temple of thought, basking in the light of exploration.
Like individual sheets of paper, when they are overlapped, they reveal blurred outlines and brushstrokes scattered across different layers under strong light.
These traces left by the "walking" of important figures gradually overlapped, echoed and pieced together, all pointing to one possibility.
"Klein Moretti first encountered the Extraordinary during the Descent of Gods ritual in Tingen. As the sole survivor of the ritual, he became a 'Magician' and immediately mastered Extraordinary abilities in the ensuing battle. Together with an intelligence officer from the Zarathustra family, he killed the 'Navigator,' who was also a Sequence Seven..."
Tristan repeated in a low voice the record he had seen in the file, his brow furrowed, his blue pupils slowly spreading to the whites of his eyes.
The information found in the mission report is insufficient; only by connecting the individual clues can Tristan avoid one or two obvious wrong options on the foggy road to the truth.
Yes, everything before that was just extra, not exactly dispensable, but only of a little value. What was truly important was the initial papal prophecy and the suspected divine intervention that leveled the "disaster" in the western suburbs of Backlund...
Klein Moretti could not be his master, at least not the one he had the privilege of worshipping from afar last time. This young man, who was entangled in mystery, was more like a vessel being prematurely matured. All the special favor he received was not for him as a person, but rather for the meaning he carried...
A new body prepared specifically for the "God of Mystery"... Only in this way can we explain why the "Hound of Fortune" calls him master.
For these magical creatures who live amidst the mists of history, almost inseparable from time, able to see the present and the future in a glance, the existence and aura of the Master are the future they seek. As the newborn vessel predetermined by the Master, Klein Moretti, whose aura is similar to the Master's, is naturally also a "Master," an ignorant young master.
The Pope's prophecy of the Lord's resurrection probably refers to this... using a so-called divine descent ritual to create an initially unremarkable seedling, misleading the gods and protecting its growth until the Lord truly awakens.
Wait… Tristan suddenly stopped and held his breath again.
From the knowledge accumulated over many years, Tristan uncovered a crucial secret closely related to the core of the "Miracle Master" authority.
That is, the resurrection of the "Miracle Master" has a certain degree of initiative in choosing the timing, and the right to choose the location can only be obtained through prior arrangements.
However, all of this must be done under the premise that the "Miracle Master" is conscious.
The Lord was sealed in a prison atop Mount Hornachis, woven by the "Goddess of Night" and the "Lord of Storms," where the illusory secrecy and the tangible power of reality almost severed all possibility of communication.
Such a combination was only broken by the Lord and the Creator at His most glorious time in the past.
Therefore, the real mastermind behind the entire plan...
Snap... His rationality snapped at the answer.
"Perhaps, the Lord awoke at that time."
...
"A reply so quickly?"
Klein, who was leaving the branch's underground stronghold and weaving through the bushes, preparing to observe the "Sea God" Church and the Rothschild native resistance, stopped in a moment of inspiration. He looked to his left and saw a giant black dog leap out of the mist, bow respectfully to him, hand him a letter, and then disappear silently and quickly.
Under the cover of illusion, Klein retreated to the shade of a tree and, using the shade as cover, opened the tightly wrapped, seemingly formal envelope. It took him more than ten seconds to obtain the letter inside, which contained important information.
Tristan's answer to the questions about Calderon City was not much different from that of "The Hound of Fugen," except for some additional details.
"...Beneath this city lies a danger that could threaten even the true gods, but it has also attracted many powerful spirit beings. In addition to the adjacent pathways of 'Death God,' 'Warrior,' and 'Night,' there are also beings that serve as the primary material for extraordinary beings of the 'Diviner' pathway to advance to Sequence Four, such as 'Spirit Raiders.'"
"These creatures live deep in the spirit world. They are few in number and intelligent. Unlike the 'Hounds of Fortune' who rarely pay attention to real creatures and live in the mists of history, they are extremely aggressive and like to capture creatures to turn into their puppets."
"As one of the main materials of 'Tricksters', they possess most of the tricksters' abilities in controlling the threads of spirits, and are also quite skilled in disguise and illusion."
"Their presence can effectively influence the thinking ability of nearby creatures. Often, due to their extraordinary instincts, they create a vacuum zone in their living environment where only the Mystic Puppet exists. It is for this reason that, in order to obtain more prey and also to conceal themselves, they choose to live on the outer edge of Calderon City. By taking advantage of Calderon City's high status, they confuse the perception of other creatures and ensure the efficiency of their hunt."
Tristan has a deep understanding of Calderon. During his "Arcanist" stage, he probably explored many areas of the spirit world and accumulated a wealth of experience; otherwise, he wouldn't know so much about such a city...
Quite generous, Tristan actually values our agreement... Klein thoughtfully folded the letter, then casually flicked it, watching it be engulfed by the crimson flames, turning into charred fragments that fell into the weeds at the base of the tree.
The "Master of Puppets" digests the potion quite quickly; in another month, it should be fully digested. At that point, if I want to advance, the only way is through internal intelligence channels...
There was nothing he could do. Within the Tarot Society, he was the highest-ranking Beyonder, and even Tracy, the "General of Disease" and an unofficial member, couldn't offer much help... Tristan's letter, however, gave him a hint: he could try to seek help from this "Ancient Scholar" who was willing to show him goodwill.
At worst, he can spend the money in advance and get an IOU. He can focus on advancing his rank first, and once he becomes a demigod and has the strength to participate in high-level battles, he can find a way to repay Tristan's kindness.
As for the recipe for "Trickster," I shouldn't need to worry about it. I'll write a letter to Zarathustra, and there's an 80% chance he'll give it to me directly.
Good, I have an idea... Gathering his thoughts, Klein stepped out of the bushes and waved behind him. Another figure quickly emerged from the shadow cast by the tree canopy, revealing its full form.
This is a native of the southern continent, dressed in the same style of coat and trousers as many manor servants. However, unlike the brightly colored clothing of servants in the mainstream aesthetic of Rune, his clothes are dark black, making him look much more composed.
The visitor was none other than Ludwell, who had undergone disguise and physical transformation with the generous sponsorship of Colonel Taylor.
With the help of the sealed artifact, the "Rose Bishop" and the "Faceless Man" in the Archipelago branch devised a customized transformation plan for Ludwell. In addition to forcibly increasing his height with flesh magic, they also made the former pirate general, who had a rugged and strong physique, conform to the stereotype of native servants in the Northern Continent, become more slender.
As for the silver mask that was originally used to suppress the "minor underworld" within Ludwell's body, it was moved to his chest. The artificial face made of flesh magic replaced the mask in concealing his skull-like face. Apart from disguise experts and the "Faceless Man," it was difficult for ordinary people to see the flaw.
Looking at the "Hell Admiral" who had changed from head to toe, Klein cleared his throat.
"The sun is about to set, we need to hurry."
The male servant bowed slightly and took the walking stick from his master's hand, his voice deep and resonant.
"Yes, sir."