"A prayer?"
Klein's mind stirred as he used the same method he used back when he spied on The Hanged Man. He allowed his spirituality to spread outward and touch the crimson blob.
A hazy and contorted image appeared within his sight. He could faintly see a blond teen kneeling on the ground, facing a pure crystal ball.
That teenager was dressed in a tight-fitting black outfit, with a style very different from the contemporary styles of the Loen Kingdom. It was more congruent with the traditional clothing of the Feysac Empire and the Intis Republic that Klein had seen from reading magazines.
The area surrounding the teenager was dark and had old furniture. From time to time, the room would be illuminated, but Klein couldn't hear the roaring thunder or the pattering of rain.
In the image, the teenager had his hands on his forehead, fingers crossed. He bowed forward, continually praying for something. His thick accent buzzed in Klein's ears.
Klein listened attentively but discovered an awkward fact.
He couldn't understand what the other party was saying. It was a language that he had never come across in his life!
...To think that I cannot understand a foreign language even though I am the mysterious ruler of this world above the gray fog... Klein gave a self-deprecating laugh. He indignantly tried listening in once again in a manner more attentive than when he had to do English listening comprehension tests back on Earth.
As he was listening to the prayers, he gradually discovered something.
Even though he had never learned the language the young man was speaking, he found that it had similarities to Ancient Feysac!
Father... Mother... Those are likely the meanings of those two terms, right? It is quite similar to Ancient Feysac, but not without its differences... Klein creased his brows and slipped into deep thought. Ancient Feysac was a common language in the Fourth Epoch. It is also the root language of all the contemporary languages of this era. Furthermore, it is still evolving... I cannot confirm it right now...
He listened to it over and over again, eliminating the possibility of the language being a modern language like Loen, Feysac, or Intis.
Could it be a dialect of Ancient Feysac? Like the language used in the Antigonus family's diary? Klein tapped his finger on the edge of the bronze table and nodded indiscernibly. There was another possibility. Ancient Feysac didn't spring into existence out of nothing, it was an evolution of Jotun, the language of the Giants... The Feysac Empire in the north has always claimed that its people possesses the bloodline of the Giants. Perhaps, this is ancient Jotun.
At this point, Klein, who lacked knowledge, could only stop. He retracted his spirituality, without looking or listening in to that scene.
He had no intention of pulling the praying teen up above the fog immediately. He wanted to know what the young man was talking about first.
Of course, before that, he had to observe him frequently and conduct basic 'tests'.
Phew. Klein exhaled as he leaned back in his chair.
Just before he enveloped himself with his spirituality. He suddenly recalled his fellow member's destiny.
Ms. Roy's fate... Klein snapped out of himself and sat upright.
From his left hand, he conjured one piece of goatskin parchment. On his right, a fountain pen.
Letters began to etch themselves onto the surface of Klein's parchment. They read, "Selina Roy's fate have shifted."
With this, he used his topaz pendant and hover it above the nested writing.
He murmured seven consecutive lines, each were the exact line from the goatskin parchment. Then he watched the topaz pendant move.
It swirled and indicates the same result: Ms. Roy's fate haven't changed!
Klein narrowed at the answer laid bare before him.
Of course that won't be enough. The force behind this is capable of manipulating facial recognition... Even I had difficulty reading Ms. Roy's abnormality if it weren't for the gray fog...
His emotions whirred with mystery. Regardless of her connections with him, Ms. Roy already joined their agency. Her safety meant the safety of everyone else as well.
Perhaps, this fate and my case before being brought here had link with each other? Klein rapped the edge of the mottled bronze table. Falling into a deep thought.
He realized how concerning it is that his death lead no traces except for the revolver. Welch's revolver had a caliber that when triggered produces a deafening sound that would alert nearby tenants.
To his surprise, he died with no disturbance.
A force behind the death of Welch and Naya... After the Antigonus Notebook had been transported. Shouldn't this force subsided as well? Or perhaps Ms. Roy had connections with the Antigonus family...
For precaution. Klein did a swift divination which answered negatively. His hand brought the pendulum down at the table.
No connections...
Since this lady proved to be innocent, he could not help but feel confused of this fate looming in her future.
Since it's not Antigonus family... What is it?
Determined to know more. Klein wrote the exact same line he used to uncover the abnormality in Selina Roy, adjusted to fit the role of a follow-up inspection.
Before him, a hall bloomed with a field of slumber flowers. Sacred and majestic. He saw the silver strands once again, cascading from the figure of a woman whose visage were violated in blood. That is Ms. Roy and her destiny did not changed.
The surrounding was littered in debris as the city seemed empty from the oriel windows. This new discovery finally confirmed that this lady's fate was tied to the city.
When the dream divination ended. Klein laid back on his chair and gazed at the harrowing fog.
He finally settled, "Get to know Selina Roy and find what is happening in Tingen."
...
The aqueous crimson light that engulf both Selina and the rest had receded. The scene casually took the form of her bedroom consisting of a dresser, a mattress and two windows.
Upon rehearsing today's gathering. Selina propped herself from the covered sheets and made her way to the kitchen.
After eight minutes, she returned with a cup of hot milk and brought a plate of fish for the black cat.
Only when she downed the milk did she laid back and readied for another visit.
The mysterious dreamworld still awaits her.
She waited until evening arrives to ensure that her followers are available.
Only when the crimson moon was present did she finally rest her eyes.
...
When the vile world sculpted Selina's figure. That statue-like grotesque creation was brought to life.
It was akin to a summon. Selina was called by herself and took life in this miasmatic environment that terraformed to a luscious meadow.
Selina breathe the air and fought the undaunting voices raving her mind once again.
######
These voices were of foreign dialect and gradually gets tuned out by her spirituality which in turn brought her back to normal.
The ravings were intense today... What was that language?
Selina narrowed her eyes, "It had a mix of comprehension coming from the language of Ancient Hermes and Feysac..."
Without sufficient knowledge, the circumstances brought her to ignore the voices.
The grass blades dances in the tune of the wind. Flower petals paints the land with vibrancy as the distant horizon places a pressuring vision of the unending.
Or perhaps... It used to...
The vines that extends from Selina's feet. A symbol that further unfolds the infinite horizon had lessened significantly!
Selina quickly felt a foreboding.
"What?" she blurted out.
"Did my believers left after my revelation? Did they proselytized to another deity?"
Her brows creased while looking at the remaining ten vines originating from her lower body.
At this moment, she thought of her first believer who had attempted and succeeded in communicating with her.
The young priest!
Using her connection. She willed the vines to distinct themselves from each other. Her spirituality led her to one of the segments.
It was still intact!
I made the right decision to mark him... Selina sighed in relief.
...
As the sun was setting, becoming intimate with the darkness.
Yesir's breath was heavy, he heard a clanging noise from afar.
With his cloak, he briskly left the cluttered alleys and into the stalled venue.
As the sun was still alit, he have a chance to shake whatever is tailing him. He dashed into the crowd, tightly grasping the dark-bound book.
From a stained glass frame. A glint of a beautiful woman wearing a regal clothes vanished.
Yesir continued with his chase with time. He ran until he reached a train station.
His hand reached for his pocket and pulled out a doll, it had an appearance of ragged hairless person. The sun was already setting, the night had begun waking.
Desperation eluded him as he lit the doll with his spirituality, burning it.
Then he tossed it onto the side of the entrance. Strangely, there were no pedestrians moving across.
This only strengthened the danger that was looming ahead.
With all of this done. Yesir turned left, away from the station and the ragged doll.
He did not entered the train station. Instead, he opted for another, all diverge the attention from him.
In the process of his escape, a dangerous amount of blood spewed out from his mouth.
*Cough*... *Cough*...
Yesir quickly produced a reagent from his pocket and downed the contents. It relived him quite a bit then he pressed the wound on his abdomen, trying to prevent his blood from further leaking.
When he finally reached a distance he stopped. He looked for a doorway amid the piles of putrid garbage cans.
It was locked!
In his peril, Yesir raised an ankle and barge the door open. The lock with a poorly designed nailing easily lost its place.
*gasp*... *gasp*.... *gasp*...
Yesir fought for air as his lungs and heart rapidly contorts. He closed the door and collapsed onto a cold stone wall.
He brought an item over to his face.
It was a dark-bound papers with a goatskin hardcover appearing like a book. There was two lines of Hermes written in crimson.
He managed to retrieve the negotiated item used to symbolize the agreement of the two factions. An exchange is undeniable.
"Damn it..." his voice was hoarse, he struggled to find a stable ground.
The momentary rest hasn't been long when Yesir felt a rush of warning.
His spirit body was telling him that a person was stepping down from the stairway!
Yesir threw the empty ring, devoid of any gems and withdrew a rose-gold revolver.
He lose the grip of the book and positioned to better get an angle of the approaching human.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A long white dress stepped and finally revealed itself from the stairs.
Yesir's right finger was trembling to shoot. He waited until this individual reveal themselves and settle for the kill.
Tap.
The torso came into view. A long jet-black hair, albeit slightly curly accompanied the descending individual.
She had a pale skin, dark eyes and mesmerizing figure wearing a pair of glasses. Her hand was placed onto her chest, a gesture of fear peculiar to women.
As she descends with her left hand as a support, she saw a cloaked man. His hood was torn and it conceals his face, but not entirely his lips. Half of his figure was damped with cold blood.
His hand was pointed to her, a gun's head straight to her direction.
"Eeek...! P-Please don't kill me!" The girl curled up while standing. Protecting herself in a fragile attempt.
"Who are you!?" Yesir raised his voice, still intending for a kill.
"M-My name is Camille Drunce! Who are you? W-Why are you in our basement?" Camille shriek in fear.
Yesir furrowed his brows. Drunce?
"Where am I?" He once again raised a voice.
"Y-You're in the basement of the White Rose Corporation 4th branch, Loen Kingdom!", Camille continued to shudder in her place.
Yesir fell silent.
So those people led me here in Loen... Bloody hell why!?
After eight seconds. He lifted his head and declared, "You're under captive. Do not move, do not speak, do not attempt to make any unnecessary actions unless I say you do!"
In horror, Camille could only nod like a fawn, nearing its end.
"Good. Get me a pair of clothing, a healing ointment and some bandages. Don't attempt anything foolish, I would immediately know."
Camille's trembling self casted her gaze to the area being pressed by the man's left arm.
She nodded hurriedly and left.
Yesir's hand that was holding the gun fell onto the floor.
That's what I would say if I actually had an ability like that... Damn it...
He hefted the book and saw the crimson letters bore in Hermes. He sighed.
She's probably going to call the officials... My bluffing is still weak to this day... Grandpa was right...
Grandpa...
Yesir gritted his teeth. Oh Great Child of God... If you're hearing me, please forgive us... Perhaps this became the result of the sins we've unknowingly committed against your will...
He drew a breath and felt his eyelids droop.
When the minute hand struck an hour, he finally gave in and fell into a deep sleep.