Edward's pupils shrank instantly.
A moment later, he forced a smile that looked worse than crying and said, "Hello there."
The last remnants of his spirituality were screaming in alarm, but he had only one thought in his mind: I'm exhausted. Just kill me already. Make it quick.
The one-eyed infant moved slowly, crawling from Edward's shoulder to his chest, leaving his entire body covered in a sticky, wet substance (amniotic fluid?). Its boneless arms wrapped around Edward's neck like limp vines.
His spirituality kept warning him.
Edward, however, had completely given up.
There was no point resisting. In his current state, even if he tried Apparating again, it was clear he wouldn't be able to escape. Should he just head to a church and go out with a bang?
The infant's blood-red pupil shifted erratically within its socket—sometimes violent, sometimes frenzied, and occasionally calm.
It pulled back one arm, which reverted to a more human-like hand—though calling it "normal" would be a stretch. After all, how could one describe a pitch-black, prematurely born infant as normal?
The one-eyed baby lifted its hand and placed a finger on Edward's temple.
"Hello...you..."
A hoarse and sluggish voice echoed in his mind, its accent distinctly Russian, carrying the tone of someone ready for battle. Edward, however, understood it perfectly.
Wait, wasn't it said that the modern True Rapper was only capable of rapping?
"It has been...a long, long time...since I last...regained...normal...consciousness." The voice continued, "You...are special. Being near...you...allows me...to temporarily...regain awareness."
Oh, what an honour.
"So…is that why Megose kept chasing me?"
"No. She only wants...to kill you. She...does not want...to regain sanity."
She wants to kill me? She doesn't want to regain sanity? What does that even mean?
…Wait.
A terrifying thought suddenly surfaced in Edward's mind:
The Ancient Sun God? Sasrir?
Back when the Ancient Sun God was ambushed by the Three Archangels—Leodero, Aucuses, and Herabergen—a black infant was said to have emerged from His fallen body. Some believed that Sasrir, in a desperate move, had reclaimed the Hanged Man pathway and fused it with the Ancient Sun God's lingering negative emotions, ultimately transforming into the True Creator.
This being represented the Ancient Sun God's humanity, yet was trapped in perpetual madness.
And now, this thing was claiming that being near him helped it regain consciousness?
What the hell is going on?
"You are special," it repeated, "but your specialness...is still...too weak...for me. You must...quickly...quickly grow stronger...quickly, stronger, stronger, stronger..."
The creature's voice glitched, looping the same words like a stuck record.
Edward, helpless, responded, "I understand. I'll do my best to get stronger as soon as possible."
"It...will do everything...to kill you. I will...try my best...to block...It's commands...but you must...grow stronger...fast."
So I'm going to be hunted by The Twilight Hermit Order…or even another Snake of Mercury like Ouroboros?
Edward quickly said, "But with its ability to constantly lock onto me, how am I supposed to grow stronger?"
"As long as It...does not descend personally...It cannot...track you at all times."
Edward let out a sigh of relief. After thinking for a moment, he hesitantly asked, "But I'm only at Sequence 9. Could you provide me with some help? Like a potion formula or something?"
Silence.
The next second, a flood of information surged into Edward's mind. His heart leapt in joy, and he immediately focused on deciphering the knowledge:
Sequence 9: Secret Supplicant
- Main Ingredients: Tentacle of a Dark Octopus, Blood of a Manhar Fish
- Auxiliary Materials: ...
Sequence 8: Listener
- Main Ingredients: ...
Sequence 7: Shadow Ascetic
- Main Ingredients: ...
Sequence 6: Rose Bishop
- Main Ingredients: ...
Sequence 5: Shepherd
- Main Ingredients: ...
Sequence 4: Black Knight
- Main Ingredients: ...
Edward's excitement vanished instantly.
You're not helping me get stronger! You're forcing me onto the Rapper pathway!
"I want the Apprentice—no, the Door pathway formulas!"
The voice gave no further response.
The black infant vanished along with it.
Edward wanted to cry.
He had just acquired nearly an entire pathway's worth of formulas—yet he couldn't use them, nor could he recklessly sell them.
…Was he being greedy?
No, he should be grateful that he had survived an encounter with the offspring of an evil god—or rather, the True Creator Himself!
Now, he needed to confront something he had been avoiding for a long time.
If the True Creator and Will had noticed his uniqueness…what about the other gods?
If they had noticed, then why hadn't they taken any action?
Edward paced back and forth for a while before finally taking out the paper crane Will Auceptin had given him.
With a few swift strokes, he wrote, "I need to talk to you."
Then, he returned to his room and went to sleep.
As drowsiness took hold, he once again found himself in front of the towering black spire, coiled by a massive serpent.
But just as he took a few steps forward, everything around him shattered.
A genderless voice whispered in his ear:
"Sorry. Your question…even I…cannot answer."
The next second, Edward snapped awake.
Grinding his teeth, he cursed, "Some Sequence 1 Snake of Mercury you are! No wonder you keep losing to Ouroboros! Useless snake!"
———
Meanwhile, at the ruins of the warehouse district.
A man dressed in black robes with crimson patterns—his deep gaze unreadable, his face clean-shaven—was listening to a report from a Nighthawks squad.
He was Anthony Stevenson, Archbishop of the Night Church's Backlund Diocese.
His expression remained calm, neither pleased nor displeased. He simply nodded and said, "Understood. Good work."
Then, with a flash of wind and lightning, another figure arrived—accompanied by an explosive entrance.
A man wearing a black soft hat and a long robe embroidered with Storm sigils, his silver eyes sharp with seriousness.
He was Ace Snake, Cardinal of the Church of the Storm, known as Spellsinger of God.
His voice was stern as he asked, "Have you found the traces of that blasphemer?"
"The fact proves that what this so-called 'blasphemer' said is evidently true. It's just that his method of reporting…might not have been the best."
The speaker was an elderly man dressed in a white priest's robe and wearing a clerical soft cap—Horamick Haydn, the Archbishop of the Church of Steam and Machinery. His face carried a gentle smile as he spoke warmly, "We should be encouraging such acts of resistance against evil gods, not forcing them into the arms of those very beings."
Aes Snake let out a cold snort. "What if this so-called 'descent of an evil god' was orchestrated by that guy himself? His so-called report might just be a way to taunt us!"
Anthony Stevenson, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, "The most pressing matter right now is to determine whether the descended spawn of the evil god is dead or alive. If it's dead, we need to know how it died and where its body is. If it's alive, then a catastrophic crisis could erupt in Backlund at any moment."
Horamick Haydn thought for a moment before asking, "Is there no residual evidence at the scene?"
"None. That eerie flame seemed to consume everything. If the Nighthawks hadn't arrived in time, this entire area might have been reduced to ashes."
———
[A Few Hundred Meters Away from the Dockyard Ruins]
Despite the presence of personnel from the three major churches, they couldn't stop the crowd's enthusiasm for gossip. People murmured and debated amongst themselves:
"I heard it was another gas explosion."
"Yeah, there have been quite a few of those lately."
"Why is it that every time something happens, it's always a gas explosion?"
Amidst the crowd, a stunningly beautiful man wearing a silk soft cap that covered half his face stared madly in the direction of the dockyard ruins. He could barely contain his excitement.
"This…this is the aura of my Lord! He…He has successfully descended! I must find Him as soon as possible—at all costs!"
———
[That Night—At Audrey's Residence]
"So what you're saying is…you were targeted by the vessel of an evil god's spawn?"
"What?! An evil god's spawn descended right in front of you?"
"WHAT?! You actually survived an encounter with an evil god?"
Audrey's three consecutive exclamations of shock gave Edward a strong sense of déjà vu.
Slumping tiredly onto the sofa, he muttered, "Yeah, that's pretty much how it went. The real problem now is that a bunch of crazed cultists will probably be after me, so I might need to leave Backlund."
Audrey simply couldn't wrap her head around it. She had lived peacefully in Backlund for seventeen years, yet ever since Edward arrived, he had encountered one outrageous event after another. Was this his good luck…or bad?
"Where will you go if you leave Backlund?"
Edward rested his hands behind his head, thinking. "Maybe going out to sea would be a good option? From what I know, the Aurora Order's influence is relatively weaker at sea."
"But isn't the ocean even more dangerous? Even just the various pirate groups are enough to give the government a headache," Audrey pointed out.
"Hm…Based on my recent fight with Megose, my actual combat strength should be at the mid-sequence level. If I land a direct hit, I might even be able to instantly kill some mid-sequence Beyonders. So, as long as I'm careful, I should be able to survive at sea."
Though, if he missed, that would be another story. With his current spirituality, he could probably only cast five or six spells like the Killing Curse or Fiendfyre.
"Tomorrow is the Tarot Gathering. You could ask The Hanged Man…or perhaps even Mr. Fool?"
"Good idea."
In two days, he would return to the Harry Potter world. That meant he had about 17 more days to figure things out.
Speaking of Mr. Fool, the crisis with Megose could finally be considered resolved. That meant his debt of gratitude for being saved was repaid, and with interest—including saving the captain's life.
Edward felt rather pleased with himself. The tragic fates of Dunn Smith (and Daly) had been a major regret for most readers of the original story. Now that he had averted that disaster, he felt a deep sense of accomplishment—despite having been utterly confused the whole time.
Oh, right. There was still Old Neil.
"Unfortunately, the best I could do was warn them in advance about his impending loss of control. There's nothing else I can do."
Edward handed Audrey a piece of paper. "This is my messenger. Since I might be constantly on the move in the future, you can use it to contact me if anything comes up." He then explained the method to summon it.
Audrey sighed in disappointment. "Aww, that's too bad. Susie actually enjoyed delivering messages for me."
She just wanted my dried chicken treats!
———
[Monday, 3:00 PM—The Tarot Club Meeting]
As the deep red light surged in from the void, Edward once again arrived in the grand, fog-shrouded palace. The next moment, Audrey's cheerful voice rang out:
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sun. Have you obtained the 'Telepathist' formula?"
After a brief silence, Derrick quickly responded, "I've acquired the 'Telepathist' formula."
Audrey's voice became even more delighted. "That's wonderful! Mr. Fool, could I trouble you to materialize the formula for Mr. Sun?"
Leaning back leisurely in his high-backed chair, Klein said indifferently, "Just recall the formula in your mind, then pick up the pen before you, and strongly desire to record it."
In no time, Audrey had a parchment containing the 'Telepathist' formula. However, as she read through it, she frowned slightly—the materials listed were completely unfamiliar to her.
Noticing her confusion, Klein thoughtfully played the role of the "Fool's Personal Translator," adding annotations to convert the terms used in City of Silver into their modern equivalents.
"Thank you, Mr. Fool. You truly are incredibly knowledgeable."
As expected of the protagonist of this era—he really knows everything! And in the future, he might even be the saviour of the world!
With that thought, Audrey gazed at him with growing admiration.
Uh…
Klein suddenly felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze. All he did was help translate a formula—was that really something worthy of admiration? Wait a minute…why did her admiration seem to be laced with a hint of pity?
"Such a shame. Despite being the protagonist, Mr. Fool remains single till the very end."
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.