"!!!"
Edward's heart gave a sharp jolt. "Then she…"
"But she somehow didn't completely die. She used some unknown method to stay 'alive,' and even managed to seize a portion of Cheek's authority because of it."
"She became an evil spirit too?"
"Not exactly." Will shook his head. "In fact, judging from her state, she's actually worse off than an evil spirit. Think about it—if she had truly become one, how could she have hidden herself from Cheek's eyes back then?"
He spread his hands. "Anyway, it's something I've never seen before—a special state of existence. Don't ask too much, I don't really understand it either."
"According to Amon," Edward said slowly, "His brother killed Lilith back then for the sake of the trend of the era. Is that really true?"
"I wouldn't know about that."
Will gave him a puzzled look. "Why? You planning to get revenge on them?"
"Of course."
"Impressive!" Will gave him a thumbs-up.
Taking another bite of ice cream, he mumbled, "All right then, since she might come after me later, why don't you leave me a message—or something as a token? That way she can decide whether to come find you."
"Sure."
Edward thought for a moment. "Then…just tell her, 'Edward has been looking for her.'"
"Edward? That name sounds familiar—I think I've heard her mention it."
"She did? What did Lilith say about it?"
Will frowned in thought. "She only said it was the name of the person most important to her. Nothing more. Honestly, your message might not help much."
Edward blinked in surprise. "Why not?"
"Because Cheek also knows the name 'Edward.' She once used it in a trap—nearly caught Lilith with it," Will explained. "Oh, and things like 'Hogwarts,' 'Dumbledore'—those names too. They were all things Lilith mentioned when she was still naïve, back when she'd first returned to the past."
"…"
Edward clenched his fists tightly.
"Heh, I get that you're angry. But calm down and think it through."
Edward fell silent, lost in confusion. If what Will said was true, then during Lilith's early days after going back in time, whether she was tricked or simply spoke too freely, she must have let slip a great deal of information.
He even began to doubt—if he were to stand before Lilith with his true face, would she even believe it was him?
Wait—
Magic!
The Evenight Goddess had once said that without having been to the world of Harry Potter, even She couldn't learn or use its magic. If he used magic, that should be enough to prove his identity, shouldn't it?
"All right, I've been out too long. Need to head back," Will said, turning away. "You should send the item off soon. You can hold on to it for a few days if you really need to—but I wouldn't recommend keeping it too long."
He took a few steps, then looked back with a half-smile. "Like I said, good luck isn't infinite. You either accumulate it or burn through it—choose wisely."
With that, he disappeared back into the spice shop.
Moments later, Edward heard a woman's sharp voice from inside: "Will, did you sneak out for ice cream again?"
"No, Mom!"
"Then how do you explain your mouth?"
"Slurp—nothing! There's nothing! Ahhh, Dad, help!"
Edward looked down at the die lying inside the jewellery box. After a few seconds of silence, he snapped it shut with a clack, and it vanished from sight.
———
Loen, the Border or North and West Borough of Backlund.
Inside a modest little villa lived an old man named Pamir. Nearly fifty years old, he was the last of his line. He'd lived alone for so long that when he died, no one even noticed.
That made it easy for Pallez to replace him—seamlessly stepping into the old man's life and continuing it as if nothing had changed.
For a while, the spacious villa had only one inhabitant.
Then, two days ago, after returning from a trip to the Sefirah Castle, there were suddenly five new "residents"—five evil spirits.
A giant.
An elf.
An ancient ascetic monk.
A soldier.
And a long-lost great-grandson.
Each of them had their own agenda:
The giant wanted to be resurrected, regain his flesh, and ensure that the bloodline of giants would continue anew.
The elf wanted to help the Elven Queen return to life and restore the lost glory of the elven race.
The ascetic monk sought to uncover the reason behind the Creator's disappearance—to find His trace.
The soldier only wished to visit his family again.
And the great-grandson?
He wanted to go wherever the elf went—pure, shameless sycophancy.
Pallez was miserable.
He'd already been having a hard enough time on his own—why did the universe have to send him five ancestors to babysit?
And literal ancestors at that!
The giant, the elf, and the ascetic monk—all of them were at least a thousand years older than Pallez!
This was a monumental drop in seniority.
Still, among the five, the easiest wish to fulfil was that of the soldier, Frunziar. All he wanted was to go home and take a look; he didn't plan to do anything else. So, leaning on his cane, Pallez shuffled along, leading the five evil spirits slowly down the street until they arrived at No. 18, Delahale Street.
"Yo, there he is."
Mobet pointed ahead. "That kid over there in the open-crotch pants, with his little—well, that's you, right, Frunziar—"
Bonk!
Before he could finish, Siatas smacked him square on the head. "Shut up!"
Groselle, the giant, raised a huge finger and gestured vaguely. "Such a tiny little thing…"
Everyone immediately turned to look at him, uncertain whether he was referring to Frunziar's height or something else entirely.
The giant blinked in confusion. "Why is everyone looking at me all of a sudden?"
At that moment, the little boy they were watching tripped and pitched forward, nearly face-planting. A young woman rushed forward and caught him just in time. "Careful!"
"I know, Mom."
The little boy giggled and began bouncing around again.
"Mom…" Frunziar stared blankly at the young woman. When he had entered Groselle's Travels, his mother had already been dead for several years. Never in his life did he expect that he'd see her again—even like this, only from afar.
But that alone was enough.
"Alright, you've seen what you came for. Time to go." Pallez sighed. "The five of you draw too much attention. If the official Beyonders spot you, we'll all be in trouble."
"Thank you, Mr. Pallez." Frunziar bowed deeply.
"No need to thank me," Pallez grumbled. "I'm just keeping an eye on you lot because He asked me to."
The group made their way back to the villa. As soon as they stepped inside, they saw a young man in his early twenties, wearing a long coat, sitting on the sofa—apparently waiting for some time.
"Mr. Sparrow."
Everyone recognised him immediately and hurried to greet and thank him.
Pallez, however, stared at Edward with suspicion. Why did he have the distinct feeling that this so-called "Blessed" was actually the Chairman Himself?
Forget it, he thought. Whether he is or isn't, I'll just assume he isn't.
"How does it feel to be back in reality?" Edward asked, glancing at them.
Frunziar bowed again. "I just saw my mother…Thank you, sir."
Groselle sat cross-legged on the floor, muttering, "I just think these houses are too short. The moment I stand up, my head breaks through the ceiling into the second floor. If I weren't an evil spirit, I'd have brought the whole place down already."
Uh…I didn't think about that.
Edward turned to the ascetic monk, Snowman. "Mr. Snowman, what do you think allowed you all to retain your sanity as evil spirits after leaving your Lord's divine kingdom?"
Snowman furrowed his brows. "That's something I've been pondering these past few days. My guess is that our spiritual bodies were somehow strengthened in the divine kingdom, granting us the spiritual resilience normally possessed only by high-sequence Beyonders."
Strengthened spiritual bodies…by the Sefirah Castle?
Hmm. That did make some sense.
After all, Mysteries was the Lord of the Spirit World—if He controlled the Sefirah Castle, it would naturally have special effects on spiritual bodies.
And with the River of Eternal Darkness malfunctioning, perhaps that was what led to their current state.
Thinking back now, the condition Medici was in when he first appeared in the original story was clearly different from later on. Yet every time Edward met Medici—past or future—he hadn't sensed any madness from him.
Tsk…Why exactly did the River of Eternal Darkness dry up?
Edward looked at the five spirits. "So, what do you all plan to do next?"
Groselle rumbled, "I want to be resurrected first, regain my body—otherwise I can't pass on the bloodline of the giants."
Uh, you still haven't let that go, huh?
"The kind of resurrection you want might be achievable by continuing to take potions and advancing to higher Sequences," Edward suggested.
After all, that was how Medici had achieved his 'resurrection' in the original story.
Edward waved his hand, and several Extraordinary characteristics extracted from their forms appeared before him. He tossed them back to the group. "These are the characteristics that separated from you when you died. If you want to advance, that's up to you."
"Oh, Frunziar—you took a fake potion in the book world, so you don't have any Beyonder characteristics."
Siatas asked earnestly, "Mr. Sparrow, could you tell me…where the Queen is now?"
"Not for the time being," Edward replied. "But I suggest you go to Sonia Island first. Try to find any elves who might still be there. Reviving your Queen isn't something you can accomplish alone."
The elven woman nodded after a pause. "I understand."
Mobet immediately reached for her hand. "I'll go with you."
Siatas struggled but couldn't shake him off. She glared at him but said nothing more.
"I…want to stay here," Frunziar said quietly.
No one was surprised by his decision.
Finally, Snowman, the ascetic monk, spoke hesitantly. "I…I want to know what happened to our Lord after I entered the book world, and where He is now…"
Edward nodded. "You know Medici, right?"
"Of course. He was the Red Angel under the Lord's command."
"I'll take you to him. He should be able to answer your questions."
"Thank you, Mr. Sparrow!"
"Don't thank me just yet." Edward waved his hand. "No matter what your plans are, stay quietly with Pallez for a while longer. When the time is right, he'll let you go."
Pallez immediately asked, "And when exactly is the 'right time'?"
"You'll know," Edward said with a smile.
"…"
Damn it, bullying an old man again, huh?
No matter what happens—whether I let them go too early or too late—it'll all be my fault!
But what could he say? "Understood," Pallez muttered resignedly.
"Oh, and one more thing," Edward added, his smile deepening. "My…Lord caught one of Amon's avatars a few days ago and locked him up. I might let you visit him sometime—have a nice chat."
"What?"
Pallez's eyes went wide. He looked up, but Edward and Snowman had already vanished.
Caught one of Amon's avatars?
Wait—does he mean what I think he means?
How?
How do you even lock up something like that?
When the next "Misery Contest" comes around, does that mean Amon's going to be one of the contestants?
For a long moment, Pales's mind spun with wild imagination, and then a grin spread across his wrinkled face. As expected, embarrassment stops being embarrassing when everyone's equally miserable. In fact, it's even better when more people join in the suffering!
How exciting!
———
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