Mystery: When the Fool Meets the Masked Fool

Chapter 265 Divine Filth
“How about the priestess? She’s the second one too. And the priestess, who symbolizes innocence, is a perfect match for a flawless young girl, isn’t she?” Alicia seemed quite energetic.

"Oh right, I also heard that the [High Priestess] Tarot card corresponds to the [Perfect One] among the Twenty-Two Paths. My God, that's just like me."

Listening to Alicia's incessant chatter, Klein felt inexplicably relaxed.

He couldn't help but smile, without telling Alicia that the sequence nine corresponding to "priestess" was "generalist," so this "perfect person" was probably not the same as what Alicia imagined.

“And another thing, the Fool’s Bible says that I am a saint under the Fool… well, now I’m an angel… In short, I’m quite suitable to be a priestess,” Alicia continued.

Klein's expression froze instantly.

Can we please not mention the Holy Scriptures...?

That wasn't written by me...

Klein smiled and interrupted Alicia: "Well then, congratulations on joining the Tarot Club, our High Priestess. I will let you in every Monday at three o'clock in the afternoon."

"Remember to revise the Holy Scripture, okay? Alicia is so cute, she's definitely an angel!" Alicia emphasized before leaving.

Under Alicia's expectant gaze, Klein sent her down into the gray fog.

Seated at the head of the bronze table, Klein awkwardly picked at his toes, tapped the table, and leaned back with his eyes closed. He imagined the feeling of falling, escaping the gray mist.

A few seconds later, Klein came out of the bathroom and stood in front of Danitz.

"Let's go." He gestured, indicating that Danitz should lead the way.

Since it only took a few minutes, Danitz didn't suspect anything. He left the hotel with Klein.

After leaving the "Azure Wind" hotel, Klein, led by Danitz whose face was painted black, wandered through the streets and alleys, heading southeast.

After passing through alleys with clothes drying overhead, a not-too-large square suddenly opened up before them.

In the square, a group of locals surrounded the central pool, some kneeling, some prostrating, some muttering to themselves, and some singing softly, their expressions devout yet numb.

Upon sensing someone approaching, they abruptly stood up and hurriedly ran into the surrounding alleys.

Klein looked at the locals of the colony and felt a little sympathy, but didn't know what he could do.

At that moment, his inspiration struck, and he saw a scene.

That was not a "tragedy prophecy" mourning the actor, but rather a product of a combination of a fortune teller's precognitive dream and "tragedy prophecy".

He saw that the sea god's followers had changed their methods of sacrifice and prayer, no longer using the method of human sacrifice, and had overthrown the sea god's statues.

Instead, they began to have a fanatical faith in trash cans, and started building new statues that looked like trash cans with limbs.

Klein's brow twitched involuntarily, a bad feeling creeping over him. But he could roughly guess what was going on.

After all, he had seen this phenomenon before.

…………

The sound of two footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridor, and tiny specks of light illuminated the murals on both sides of the corridor.

The painting depicts a merciful God who leads humanity out of darkness and bears the sins of all people alone.

"Can't you guys make the lights a little brighter? Even if you're a villainous organization, there's no need to keep it all pitch black, is there?" Wearing a mask, Serres walked along, admiring the murals on either side. The darkness didn't affect his vision at all.

“Okay, we’ll consider it,” the man leading the way for Serres replied gently.

He wore a simple, plain linen robe and had long, silver hair. His features were gentle, and his face was beautiful.

He was also looking at those murals, those murals that He had painted with His own hands, His eyes gentle yet tinged with indifference, as if observing fate and every person in the world from the perspective of an outsider.

Behind Him, beams of light formed illusory, layered, pure wings, which were tucked inwards and not spread out so as not to obstruct the view of Serres behind Him.

He is a mercury serpent, the angel of fate under the throne of the true creator, Urolius the Tail-Eater.

“I have a suggestion,” Serres said. “Go to that Silver City not far away. You could get some electric lights or something from them.”

"Electric light?" Urolius tilted his head. "I'll go find one."

He didn't know what an electric light was, but He could ask directly when the time came. After all, He was the Serpent of Mercury, not the Silent Disciple. Soon, the one-man angel arrived at the end of the corridor.

Ulorius stepped aside, gesturing for us to come in.

“The Lord is inside, please come in,” He said gently.

Serres nodded, walked past the almost inhuman angel, and entered the sanctuary of the true creator.

He actually quite liked this angel.

After all, who could resist a fate angel who helps a mortal girl find her match when she's bored?

Upon entering the sanctuary, Serres saw a naked man hanging upside down on a huge cross.

His features were delicate and beautiful; even when they were twisted together in a grotesque manner, they could not conceal his inherent beauty.

Unlike Ouroboros, He doesn't have many special effects and looks ordinary, like a beautiful but plain person.

He is the Creator of all things, the eye behind the veil of shadow, and the fallen nature of all living beings.

True Creator.

Looking at the man in front of him, Serres stroked his chin.

“The true creator…” he repeated the man’s title in a low voice.

Since he didn't know the original name of the true creation, Serres could only refer to Him as such.

Zhenzao looked at Serres with eyes full of madness and twisted emotions.

“Sukabulye!” Zhenzao uttered the filthy words of God.

He remembered that He had twice faced strange and unprecedented blows.

In reality, He, who had just been born as the offspring of an evil god, was instantly killed by a single burst of heavenly fire.

In the dream, He, who had just descended as a god, was nearly seriously injured by a primordial force.

Both of these strange blows ultimately came from the man in front of them.

The True Creator seemed to have noticed the nationality of the man in front of Him. After thinking for a few seconds, He spoke again with a slight flick of His tongue.

"To you*"

"It seems He's not too keen on seeing you," the husky commented.

Serres touched his hair: "As everyone knows, the true creator is obsessed with appearances."

“Then, all I need to do is show my stunning beauty to easily change His attitude towards me.” As he spoke, Serres removed his mask.

The true Creator's answer remained concise: "F**k, you."

You used the Charm skill on the true Creator.

The true Creator's mental resistance is 0.

The true creator is immune to your charm abilities.

Serres reluctantly put on the mask: "It seems He has completely gone mad, completely unmoved by my stunning beauty."

Haven't you ever considered that it might be a problem with your own appearance?

[When you time-traveled, you were dressed as... who in the real world is prettier than someone in an anime?]

Serres nodded seriously: "So it's a problem with this world. There's nothing we can do about it."

What a pitiful world, it's completely gone mad.

Let's offer a brief moment of silence then.

(End of this chapter)