Lord of the Mysteries

In a dark and sturdy room, Derrick Berg, who had feigned unconsciousness, suddenly rolled to his feet.

His Axe of Hurricane had already been taken away by someone and sent for inspection. Every pocket on him had also been emptied out, leaving nothing behind.

Derrick took a breath and looked around steadily.

Suddenly, his eyes lit up with two sun-like beams, causing everything in the room to be reflected clearly in his eyes.

The furniture here consisted of only a table and two chairs. Apart from these, there was also a stone-paved floor with strange patterns on it.

A half used candle was placed on the table. This was standard issue for rooms in the City of Silver because monsters could suddenly appear if the darkness prevailed for too long.

Without any hesitation, Derrick sat down and reached for the candle.

Then, he broke the candle and divided it into three sections—one was three-quarters the length of the original piece, and the other two were halved from the remaining quarter.

After Derrick’s modification, the three candlesticks’ cores were completely exposed.

Pa!

He rubbed his fingers together, creating a golden flame that lit up the three candles.

The two at the top represented Mr. Fool, and the remaining one symbolized Derrick himself.

After finishing his preparations, Derrick didn’t continue to burn the herbal powder according to the normal processes. Instead, he poured in the essential oil and leaned back, softly chanting the honorific name of The Fool and quickly entered Cogitation.

He read it over and over again, monotonously, as if he were hypnotizing himself.

With the help of Cogitation, Derrick entered a strange state where his mind was in a deep sleep and the spirituality was dispersing. He felt adrift, but also seemed to maintain a strange lucidity. His psyche kept dispersing upwards as it rose in height.

This was “artificial sleepwalking.”

Derrick, with the permission of Mr. Fool, could simplify some of the unnecessary steps.

…

Above the gray fog, within the towering, ancient palace.

Klein, who was fiddling with the All-Black Eye, suddenly saw the crimson star that symbolized Little Sun burgeon with light, condensing into a human shadow, and the power of the mysterious space was stirred a little.

Upon seeing this, he couldn’t help but feel relieved. This meant that Little Sun had already completed the relatively dangerous part of the operation, and he only needed to “round up” the situation.

Klein didn’t delay, and he immediately put down the All-Black Eye and picked up the Dark Emperor card.

He instantly rose in level and authority, forcing the stirred power in the gray fog to submit to him.

Then, he picked up a paper figurine, flicked his wrist, and threw it towards the crimson star corresponding to The Sun.

The paper figurine and the flowing power intertwined and quickly expanded into a gigantic angel with twelve pairs of pitch-black wings.

The angel pierced through the crimson light and overlapped with the illusory figure of Little Sun.

It silently combusted, turning into ashes in less than a second.

At this point, Klein could no longer affect the situation of the City of Silver. As for whether his “angel substitute” could help Little Sun pass the subsequent inquiries and investigations, he lacked absolute confidence. He could only sigh inwardly.

With what has to be done completed and with all the hard work put in, all you can do is wait for fate’s arrangement. Hopefully, it will be a good result…

…

In a daze, Derrick saw an angel descend before him with an aura that covered the heavens, wrapping him with twelve pairs of black wings.

He suddenly came to his senses as three candles burned quietly in front of his eyes.

After sincerely thanking Mr. Fool, Derrick finished the ritual and extinguished the two candles which were part of the original quarter.

Then, he pulled them out and created a bright, golden flame in his palm.

Drip, drip, drip. The two candles quickly melted, dripping its wax onto the remaining candle or the area surrounding it.

When the candle burnt away completely, there was only one candle left on the table. It was shorter than before, but it wasn’t very obvious. It seemed like it had only been burning for a short time.

After removing the remaining traces, Derrick extinguished the last yellow-flamed candle.

He sat up in silence, staring ahead. For a long time, he didn’t do anything.

He was worried that the six-member council wouldn’t react fast enough, allowing the exploratory team members to corrupt more residents of the City of Silver with “mushrooms” and “Doom fruits.”

He was afraid that the Chief and the others would find additional clues elsewhere, thwarting all his preparations.

He hated those “outsiders,” who lurked in the depths of the darkness, constantly carrying strong malice, including Amon and the Fallen Creator.

He felt guilty that he had avoided the expedition without warning Darc and the rest, causing them to turn into corrupted monsters.

He had painfully eliminated a classmate who could be considered a friend with his own hands.

Although Derrick didn’t see Darc’s ultimate end, he believed that a man who had transformed into that state was already no different from dead.

Derrick didn’t know how long he waited while experiencing those mixed feelings. Midway, he even rekindled the candle.

Finally, he heard the sound of the seal being removed and the door opening.

Turning his head to look, he saw, with the aid of the dim yellow candlelight, a woman in a black skirt walk in. She had her hair tied up in a ponytail and it hung down to her vest.

“Ma’am Aiflor,” Derrick subconsciously called out.

Aiflor was a pretty woman, but she had wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. She smiled and nodded in response, then she walked over with light footsteps and sat down across him.

“Do you have anything you wish to say?” she asked gently.

Derrick instinctively lifted his head and looked over, only to suddenly discover that her pupils had somehow turned into golden vertical slits.

His mind went adrift as he seemed to enter a sleepwalking state.

Aiflor adjusted the candle flame, letting the dim yellow light completely shine on the boy’s face.

Her pale golden pupils became increasingly indifferent, just like an emotionless audience.

Suddenly, rings after rings of faint light appeared in those pale golden vertical pupils. It seemed to form a vortex and constructed a maze.

In his stupor, Derrick felt himself drifting away into the endless darkness and countless bright colors.

At that moment, he suddenly became clear-headed. He felt as if something had ingeniously caught him in that state of reverie.

He saw the flickering yellow candlelight and Aiflor sitting across him with her pale gold vertical pupils.

In a corner’s shadow, a grizzled Chief, Elder Colin Iliad, walked out.

After nodding to the Chief, Aiflor asked Derrick, “What have you been doing all this time?”

Derrick remembered his training and maintained the same state of mind as before.

“I don’t know. I’ve always been in a daze as if I was in a dream. Only occasionally will I have clearness of mind…”

At the same time as his reply, two complex dark green symbols appeared in Demon Hunter Colin’s eyes.

Aiflor continued, “Do you know that you had a conflict with Darc Regence?”

“I only remember that we were fighting… I felt like I had seen a man hanging upside down on a cross and a man in a pointed hat and a crystal monocle. Yes, I saw him back at the dungeon… He had opened his mouth and spoke with a smile….” Derrick told a long story.

Aiflor looked at the Chief and pressed, “What did he say?”

“I can’t remember. I can only remember one thing… He said with a smile, ‘Fallen Creator, True Creator… Shepherd…’” Derrick almost failed to control his excitement.

He had taken such a risk just to tell the Chief the name of the Fallen Creator and that a Shepherd was suspicious!

“The Fallen Creator… The True Creator… It matches with the content on the murals at the bottom of the temple.” Colin nodded slightly and whispered with a frown, “Shepherd…”

“And then?” Aiflor’s voice remained abnormally gentle.

Derrick answered in his stupor, “After that, they clashed, and there was a lot of light, very bright lights. Then, I woke up and kept coughing…”

The dark green symbols in Colin’s eyes didn’t fade this entire time as he motioned for Evelyn to ask about the details.

Derrick answered selectively, and he had pushed the blame onto Amon according to his script. He claimed amnesia on anything that went beyond that.

Finally, Aiflor asked, “Where did you get the axe? Where did you get the Sun pathway’s potion formula?”

“I bought the axe from an underground market. That person was masked, and I could only tell that he was male… The Sun pathway potion formula was left to me by my parents. They had discovered it during an expedition…” Derrick answered confidently.

These were points of suspicion that had always been there, so The Hanged Man had assumed they were bound to ask them while he was questioned. Therefore, he had made Derrick to repeatedly rehearse the answers.

Although the City of Silver’s underground market was semi-open, there were still people who tried to conceal their identities for a variety of reasons. This provided the best explanation for Derrick.

After Aiflor finished seriously listening to him, she turned her head sideways to Demon Hunter Colin and said, “He’s not lying. There’s no way he can lie. I’m using the powers of Glory Crown.

Colin nodded his head and said, “In this state, he doesn’t show any traces of evil, degeneration, or corruption.”

Discovering these traits was a special ability of a Demon Hunter.

As a High-Sequence job, Demon Hunters were the best at concealing their movements and intentions, making it impossible for them to be detected by targets who could foretell danger.

Therefore, every Demon Hunter was a Devil’s nemesis.

After some thought, Colin got up and left the room. He said to the shadow in the corner outside, “I’ll release Derrick later. I think he’s fine for the time being.

“However, secretly monitor him for a while. If Amon is able to produce two avatars, he might be able to create a third.”

“Yes, Chief,” the shadow responded respectfully.

After Derrick “woke up,” the interrogation chamber was empty, with only words informing him that he was free to leave.

He secretly heaved a sigh of relief as he began walking out. While doing so, he thought of Mr. Hanged Man’s advice: “You can’t relax just like that and end up careless. The secret surveillance will definitely continue for some time; otherwise, your Chief is lacking!”

Yes, I can’t even recite the honorific name of Mr. Fool anymore for the time being…Derrick muttered to himself as he walked down the spiral staircase.

As he was walking, he suddenly saw a familiar figure dressed in a purple-striped black robe. It was the beautiful Shepherd Elder Lovia.

Her pale gray eyes swept over Derrick, and a gentle smile appeared on her face.

…

Back in her room, with an indifferent expression, Lovia walked to the desk and unfolded a piece of parchment that was made from leather.

Her left hand pinched the index finger of her right hand and snapped the tip of her finger. However, not a single drop of blood dripped. It was as if her blood had been gathered onto the surface of her finger.

With this finger, she drew a complex symbol on the piece of paper. It was made up of a Pupil-less Eye which represented secrecy, and the Contorted Lines which represented change.

After careful examination, she wrapped the finger with this piece of paper, stuffed it into her mouth, and bit on it noisily before swallowing it all.

With only four fingers left, flesh and blood suddenly squirmed around the wound on her right palm. It quickly grew into a new index finger, one that looked slightly pale.

She lowered her head, looked at her palm, and whispered a phrase, “The Fool?”