Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 67 "Response"

The crimson moon hung quietly in the darkness, illuminating the gradually quieting "university city" of Tingen.

Klein stood at his desk, looking down through the bay window at the deserted Narcissus Street, and heard a carriage speeding by in the distance, though not noisily.

He picked up the silver pocket watch with its vine-patterned design, snapped it open, glanced at it, and then reached out to draw the curtains, allowing more of the yellowish gaslight to reflect into the bedroom.

Klein turned around slowly, locked the door, and closed the valve.

The entire room was suddenly shrouded in darkness, with only a few slivers of reddish moonlight filtering through the curtains, bringing color to the scene of the deep night that has given birth to many folk tales.

In this environment, Klein took out a silver knife he had obtained through application, sketched a ball of light in his mind, and entered a semi-meditative state beforehand.

He gathered his strength, and following his previous practice, let his spirituality burst forth from the tip of the knife, allowing it to follow his own movement and miraculously combine with the environment, sealing the room.

He was preparing for any unusual fluctuations that might occur later, fearing that Benson and Melissa might be awakened as a result.

Then, Klein put down the knife and took four steps counterclockwise, each step accompanied by incantations from Earth.

The unchanging screams and murmurs assaulted him, along with the unchanging madness and pain. He struggled to control himself, enduring the most difficult and dangerous phase in a near-dazed state.

The gray-white mist stretched endlessly, while the deep red "stars" appeared both near and far. The majestic temple stood like a dead giant. Everything before Klein's eyes was unchanged from before, and the silence and antiquity accumulated over thousands of years rushed towards him.

No, things have changed! Klein muttered to himself, his gaze fixed on a deep red "star" nearby.

That is a star that symbolizes "justice"!

The deep red of this "star" contracted and expanded repeatedly, the magnitude of which was small, but it persisted.

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Klein carefully unleashed his spirituality, spreading it towards the deep red.

The moment the two made contact, his mind went blank, and he saw blurry, distorted images and heard illusory, overlapping prayers:

"A fool who doesn't belong to this era;"

"You are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog;"

"You are the king of yellow and black who holds the key to good fortune."

"I beg for your help."

"I pray for your favor."

"I pray that you will grant me a sweet dream."

……

"I pray that you will grant me a sweet dream."

……

"I pray that you will grant me a sweet dream."

……

The women's voices echoed and intertwined, making Klein's mind restless and chaotic, like someone who had just fallen asleep but heard a loud argument upstairs, with people banging on tables and floorboards.

He suppressed his emotions, calmed his impulses through meditation, and carefully discerned the blurry images that appeared before his eyes.

It was a girl dressed in a white robe, with smooth and shiny golden hair. She stood before four flickering flames, bowing respectfully and chanting continuously.

From the distorted image, Klein could barely recognize that it was Miss "Justice".

By this point, he was absolutely certain that the ritual incantation he had conceived could be precisely directed here, directed at him!

This filled him with a sense of accomplishment, and he felt that his exploration from scratch had been very effective.

I won't boast about how great I am... Klein's mood improved, and even the pleas buzzing around his ears like flies became acceptable.

A thought struck him, and he tried to transmit the "answer" he had conceived in his mind to the "Crimson" star through that subtle connection:

"I see."

…………

A layer of gray fog enveloped the area, and a distorted and blurry figure stood in the deepest part.

His eyes swirled with a deep red, and his voice echoed endlessly in the empty world:

"I see."

"I see."

"I see."

……

Audrey Hall suddenly woke up, sat up in bed, her mind filled with the images from her dream.

She knew perfectly well that she was dreaming of the Fool, that mysterious Fool who dwells high above the gray fog!

"Is this a response to my morning prayers?" Audrey, quickly adopting "spectator" mode, calmly analyzed the situation.

Although she didn't understand why the Fool didn't respond on the spot but had to wait until night, she was still deeply shocked by the effectiveness of the ritual magic and by the fact that those incantations were truly useful.

She had prayed to the goddess of the night before, but had never received a response!

Even if Mr. Fool isn't a god yet, he's probably close... Audrey slowly inhaled and then slowly exhaled.

Since the opponent was an insurmountable force, she quickly put aside her worries and began to think about what to do next:

"First, I completely digested the 'audience' potion... My 'performance' was pretty good."

"Second, seek out psychological alchemy."

"Third, see if we can get the recipe for the 'Mind Reader' potion from Mr. Fool, or any clues about the Psychological Alchemy Society."

"However, every god-like being has their own complete sequence chain, and may not know the recipes for other sequence pathways... A newly formed extraordinary organization like the Psychological Alchemy Society may not even be worthy of Mr. Fool's attention..."

…………

Having broken off contact, Klein sat down at the head of the long bronze table in a good mood.

He was shrouded in gray mist, leaned back in his chair, clenched his fist and covered his mouth, recalling and examining what had just happened.

At this moment, in this gray, foggy world, he was the only living being; all else was silent.

"It seems we can only transmit information, but not mobilize the forces here... It looks like my previous trick won't work." Klein kept tapping his lips, silently summarizing.

His original plan was that if the designed incantations and rituals were effective, he would try to use this method to bind himself to the gray fog world, thereby leveraging the power of this mysterious space.

Then he can pray to himself to cleverly bypass the limitations, mysteries, and dangers, and make fuller use of the gray fog world.

For example, he could first hold a ritual, praying to "himself" for the granting of magic, and then enter the gray fog, where he would respond to the prayer and bestow the blessing.

"Looks like I was dreaming... My understanding and mastery of this gray fog world is far from that level..." Klein shook his head and mocked himself, preparing to leave.

Just then, he saw the deep red "star" symbolizing the "Hanged Man" begin to shrink and expand, and heard illusory and invisible sounds spreading out in circles.

"Did you happen to run into the 'Hanged Man' holding a ceremony?" Klein nodded thoughtfully.

He sat at the head of the long bronze table and gestured with his hand toward the "star".

A spirituality spread out and touched the ever-shrinking and expanding deep red.

He heard the Hanged Man's low, heavy prayers and saw blurry images.

In the image, the "Hanged Man" is dressed in a pure black robe and stands in front of four flames. The surrounding spirituality forms a wall, separating him from external influences.

Klein didn't respond immediately, but just watched and listened quietly.

"...You are the king of yellow and black who holds the key to good fortune."

"I beg for your help."

……

After the "Hanged Man" finished his prayers and waited for a moment, seeing no response, he began to dismantle the spiritual wall, extinguish the flames, and tidy up the altar.

Finally, he reached out and wiped it, and the water shimmered, instantly transforming the table that served as the altar into something brand new.

"Water magic... the blessing of the storm... the 'Hanged Man' is indeed, at least a 'Navigator'..." Klein nodded slightly, and before the image disappeared, he transmitted the "response" into the crimson mass as he had planned.

…………

Alger Wilson is in the city of Generosity, the capital of the Rothschild Islands.

Instead of going to the famous "Red Theatre" with the crew, he stayed in the hotel, closed the doors and windows, and tried out the ritual described by the Fool.

Alger skillfully completed his prayer and waited patiently for a while, but received no response.

"It seems this attempt wasn't very successful... Mr. Fool, you'll have to try something else..." he thought, feeling both relieved and slightly disappointed.

After settling things over, Alger planned to go downstairs for a "Lerozzi"—alcohol helps unleash the power of the "Wrathful People," so the "Storm Lord's" scapegoats are quite fond of this "drink."

As Alger opened the door and was about to step out, his vision suddenly blurred. He saw an illusory and boundless gray mist above the corridor, and a blurry figure sitting in the deepest part, as if sitting on a high throne.

"I understand." The familiar, deep voice echoed in Alger's ears, making him freeze in place, his head throbbing slightly.

Alger's eyes suddenly darkened. He looked around again and found that everything was no different from before. The floor was still creaking underfoot, the walls and candlesticks were still old, and the corridor was still not very clean.

I understand... Alger's voice seemed to still echo in his ears.

His face darkened, and he clenched his fist and lightly struck his chest, but he couldn't bring himself to utter any respectful words to the Lord of Storms.

After a long silence, Alger's expression returned to normal, but his gaze became even more profound.

…………

Above the gray fog, Klein didn't linger for long. Once the remaining sounds had all subsided, he enveloped himself in spirituality and plunged into the gray fog, into the material world.

The light and shadows flashed rapidly before his eyes, like a movie scene played at dozens of times faster. After a moment of dizziness, Klein saw curtains bathed in crimson moonlight, and the hazy outlines of a desk and bookshelves.

He picked up the silver knife again, dispelled the spiritual barrier in the room, and then, in a sudden gust of wind, quietly opened the door and glanced down the corridor.

He finally relaxed completely when he saw that there was no movement in his brother Benson's and sister Melissa's rooms.

"This 'luck-changing ritual' is simply a must-have for home and travel... It's both discreet and magical..." Klein murmured silently, closed the door again, and walked towards the bed.

His "mission" tomorrow is to go to the underground market for extraordinary items with Old Neil.

(End of this chapter)