Time was ticking relentlessly. As Furen lost track of time during his meditation, a cry for help echoed from the greatest ancestor of the Abraham line: Bethel Abraham.
Although this call, coming from the ancestor of the Abraham family, was of an almost unbearable intensity, Furen did not feel such pain that he would die or want to die. The suffering he experienced did not go beyond that which he had known when he had exhausted his spirituality, this sensation of being hunted by countless existences full of malevolence.
Having already experienced the horror of such exhaustion, Furen found Bethel's scream not as terrifying as he had imagined. In fact, if it were all that it was, previous members of the Abraham family should have been able to reach at least the rank of demigod.
That said, the pain remained extreme; each scream seemed to push the limits of his endurance.
At that moment, if someone had observed Furen's pupils, which were constantly contracting and dilating under the effect of pain, they would have seen, in his eyes, a door formed by an interlacing of mysterious symbols made of a myriad of sparkling stars.
After four or five minutes of torture, Furen felt a wave of relief flood his body and mind. It was then that he realized that his muscles, tense to the extreme, were causing him pain all over. During those few minutes, he had felt as if he were submerged in water, and his clothes, soaked with sweat, clung to his skin.
The pocket watch lying on the balcony had been thrown aside during the attack. Fighting nausea and involuntary spasms caused by the pain, Furen dragged himself to it, picked it up, opened it, and found that the time of the full moon matched Martin's prediction perfectly.
He placed the watch back on the large living room table and, despite his exhaustion, decided to take a hot bath. His clothes were left in disarray on the floor. Acting almost unconsciously, he used his last strength to climb onto the bed.
The dark room let in no sunlight, but Furen woke up earlier than the day before. Rubbing his eyes, he realized it was only seven in the morning.
He wanted to go back to sleep, but the overflowing energy circulating within him prevented him. Reluctantly, he yawned and got up.
After cleaning himself up, Furen, feeling a strange mixture of drowsiness and boundless energy, went up to the third floor to the office that had caused him so much pain the day before.
He placed the pocket watch, the "meteoric iron dagger," and the "Angel Gate" on the table. Then he took out a blank notebook he kept at home, determined to record certain observations that might help him better assimilate the "Archivist's" potion.
"First of all, although I was somewhat embarrassed yesterday and felt a particular pressure, it was nothing unbearable for a mere "Apprentice."
And the higher the sequence goes, the more my immunity to Mr. Porte's shout will inevitably increase.
But then... would that scream also get louder with the sequences too? That would be a real death sentence!
Unless... on a path above that of the "Astrologer", there is a balance that allows one to resist this howl?
"Speaking of the way of the 'Gate,' the high-ranking person I know best is Fors Wall.
I remember that Klein invited her to Sefirah's Castle precisely when she could no longer stand Mr. Door's shouting, and she was only a Sequence 9 at the time!
Does this mean that... the longer one endures this scream, the greater the threat it represents becomes?
As he wrote this, Furen couldn't help but shudder, but immediately realized that something was wrong and wrote:
"No... The other members of the Abraham family endured the loud screams for much longer, without going mad.
Maybe from the rank of "Astrologer" one can already endure them?
But if we continue to progress, the power of the screams increases to the point that we can no longer keep up?
However, the "Archivist" potion can be played in advance...
So why would there still be a mysterious change at this point?
Could this be one of the obstacles Mr. Porte intentionally left for his descendants?
Or is it a dissonance specific to this path itself?
Unable to draw a satisfactory conclusion, Furen suppressed his urge to dig deeper and wrote a final summary sentence:
"Whatever the future difficulties of the climb, the conversation between Bethel and Roselle will inevitably influence this cry.
Only personal experience during a promotion can confirm my hypotheses."
Having written this long passage, Furen stretched, glanced at his watch, and noticed that not much time had passed. He rubbed his eyes, packed his belongings, and prepared to leave.
Before leaving, he noticed that his dirty clothes had already piled up in the bathroom. Sighing, he vigorously scratched his head with his fingertips.
"Should I hire a servant to wash my clothes, and another to maintain this big house?
No... There are still things these people must not discover."
Then he thought of his occult laboratory in the basement, and a headache came over him.
"So I should do everything myself? No, that's ridiculous, I don't have that kind of time."
Better to hire temporary workers... Where can I find domestics?
Maybe the coachman will know. Coachmen who work in wealthy neighborhoods always know these addresses.
Having made his decision, Furen felt a weight lift from his heart. He pushed open the door with a light, calm gesture.
Signaling a car to stop, he said:
"To the National Library in Tingen, please."
Once the carriage was moving, Furen asked the coachman—a man clearly accustomed to his trade:
"Excuse me, if I wanted to hire servants, where should I go?"
The coachman, less talkative than the one from the day before, seemed surprised at first: he hadn't expected a customer to speak to him.
But he pulled himself together and answered calmly while holding the reins:
"If the gentleman resides on Cothorne Street, then not far from there, still in the Kinhamston district, there is a business called the Kinhamston District Life Improvement Company.
It is an agency that connects the wealthy with servants or workers.
"Would you like me to take you there first, sir?" he then asked.
(End of chapter)