Year 1350, Future.
Backlund, inside the luxurious villa of Earl Hall.
Audrey sat on a swing in the garden, gazing fondly at Susie, who lay sprawled on the grass with a pair of tiny glasses perched on her snout. The golden retriever was seriously reading a book—licking her right paw from ti to ti to turn the page with practised ease. The entire movent was smooth, elegant, and…disturbingly natural.
Audrey leaned against the swing's chains, a book resting on her lap, her eyes unfocused as she daydread.
A couple of days ago, after contacting Klein, she had originally planned to spend a few days travelling on her broomstick, using a Portkey as a waypoint to reach him. But after a bit of thought, she'd realised—why not ask Mr. Azik for help instead?
He was a powerful being capable of traversing the Spirit World freely, and considering both his relationship with Edward and Priscilla, there was little chance he would refuse to help.
Unfortunately, when she brought a gift and went to visit, she learned that Mr. Azik had left a week earlier on so errand—and had yet to return. Thus, her plan to teleport directly to Klein fell through.
Audrey took out a delicate silver pocket watch and checked the ti. The Tarot Gathering was about to begin.
"I'll confirm it with Mr. World later during the eting."
She hopped lightly off the swing and called, "Susie, it's ti."
Susie raised her head, closed the book, clamped it between her teeth, and followed along, tail swaying with enthusiasm.
——
Ten minutes later, beneath the endless grey fog, the majestic palace once again stood tall and silent.
The "Moon," Emlyn White, had barely recovered his vision after being drawn into the mysterious space when he saw "Justice" Miss Audrey cheerfully greet the shadowed figure at the head of the mottled long table:
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool~"
Audrey greeted everyone in turn, from the "Fool" at the head to the "World" at the end—though her gaze instinctively lingered for half a second on the two vacant seats.
This subtle pause imdiately rekindled Emlyn's curiosity. Those two "senior mbers" who had been part of the Club since before his arrival—yet never once appeared—who were they?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, sothing else struck him.
Wait…I'm not dizzy anymore!
Emlyn's eyes widened in disbelief, and tears nearly filled them. Only he knew what kind of tornt he had endured these past weeks.
I hate the sea. I hate boats. I hate seasickness!
If not for the secret mission his Ancestor had entrusted him with, he never would've gone out to sea just to suffer!
Once the group had exchanged their greetings, Emlyn turned toward the "Hanged Man" Alger and asked, "Mr. Hanged Man, did you manage to find any leads about the characteristic that the baron left behind?"
Before Alger could respond, Priscilla seized the chance to speak, her tone crisp and teasing, "Mr. Vampire, it's Mr. Fool's reading ti right now. You should save that for the trading segnt."
Emlyn froze.
What? There are segnts in the Tarot Club now? No one ever told that!
Instinctively, he stole a glance at the figure seated amid the grey fog—but imdiately dropped his gaze.
Never look directly at a god! Never!
Even if I have the Ancestor of Sanguines behind , that's no excuse!
Then, realisation hit him.
Wait—did she just call 'Vampire'?
He hesitated for a mont before screaming inwardly:
It's 'Sanguine,' not vampire!
At that mont, Audrey looked toward the hazy figure shrouded in mist and said softly, "Honourable Mr. Fool, I've obtained three more pages of Emperor Roselle's diary."
These three pages were newly acquired from the Psychology Alchemists last week. After a few weeks of steady progress, the Backlund branch had successfully grown to a "magnificent" five mbers—if one included herself, Glaint, and the perpetually absent "Lday Sloth."
The two new mbers had been recomnded by Glaint. As for the "Lady Sloth," she seed utterly uninterested in expanding the Backlund branch's influence. Audrey hadn't seen her in ages—so much so that Audrey had initially suspected she was plotting so grand conspiracy in secret.
After Audrey spoke, Fors, sitting nearby, cast a quick, nervous glance at the mysterious Queen before lowering her head and whispering, "Mr. Fool, I…I also have three new pages of Roselle's diary."
Emlyn suddenly recalled that within this mysterious Tarot Club, Emperor Roselle's diary pages could be traded to Mr. Fool for valuable rewards.
Unfortunately, the past few days had been an endless blur of seasickness—he hadn't had the focus or patience to think about anything else.
I hate ships!
Seated upon the bronze throne, Klein looked calmly at everyone before him. He first manifested the diaries from Miss Justice and Miss Magician, holding them in his hands. Just as he was about to lower his head to read, the familiar, elegant voice of Bernadette, Lady Strength, echoed across the table:
"Mr. Fool, I've also brought several pages of the diary this ti."
"Very good," Klein replied smoothly.
At that, Little Sun Derrick spoke up earnestly, "Mr. Fool, before setting out on our mission, I copied so legends about the ancient gods."
The Hanged Man Alger couldn't help but ask, "So you've already…?"
"Yes," Derrick nodded solemnly. "We've ventured into the temple again."
Klein gave a slight nod. As he skimd through the six pages from Miss Justice and Miss Magician, he realised that two of them were repeats from before, and the remaining four contained little of real value.
Most of them described Roselle's feelings of emptiness and boredom after becoming a Son of Steam and no longer having to worry about money—his sense of purpose and strength in life seemingly vanishing overnight.
Klein gritted his teeth as he read. If you think having too much money is a problem, then give it to ! What are you even complaining about?!
Indeed, the troubles of the wealthy were many—agonising over what to buy, what to do—while the poor had only one problem: how to make money.
Suppressing his irritation, Klein dispersed the six pages of the diary, then turned his attention to Bernadette's offering. From the very first entry, his eyes were instantly drawn in.
March 21:
I must work hard! I must push forward! This world is far too dangerous—I need to climb to a higher Sequence as soon as possible! This ti, I'm serious!
March 22:
Spent the entire day in the Church, diligently playing the role of an Appraiser. The good thing about the Church is that it's overflowing with extraordinary items! Fortunately, I have an excellent relationship with the Archbishop—I managed to convince him to lend seven or eight mystical artifacts. According to him, if I activate them all at once, I could withstand even a demigod's full-strength attack for several minutes!
March 23:
Finally advanced to Artisan! I left the Church in high spirits and t a fan at the door—unfortunately, he was a man. Otherwise, tonight might've been worth celebrating.
At last, I have the ability to do it—to recreate that mysterious silver plate from my mory, the one I suspect caused my transmigration in the first place.
March 25:
After becoming a "Savant," I rembered it clearly—the patterns, the strange runes carved across its surface. But back then, I could feel that I wasn't yet capable of reproducing it.
March 26:
After countless failures, I've finally succeeded.
I held the silver plate, covered in intricate, alien symbols, and poured spirituality into it, trying to activate it. Before my eyes appeared an endless expanse of grey-white fog…but nothing else happened.
Klein's pupils constricted sharply.
...
Grey-white fog?
After crafting a replica of the mysterious silver plate from Earth, Emperor Roselle saw a vast sea of grey-white mist!
But—this very mysterious domain above the grey fog was also filled with endless grey-white mist!
Could it be… that both the Emperor's and my transmigrations are connected to this space?
Then why could I enter it, while he could not?
Klein quickly flipped to the next page, searching for answers.
...
To be honest, I was relieved. If the dallion had truly sent back to my original world, I'd never see Bernadette again.
In fact, that had been my mindset when I first arrived here. I avoided deep emotional ties, believing that one day, when the ga ended, I would return ho.
But after much hesitation, I injected spirituality into it again. Even if I couldn't go back, I wanted to learn more about that grey-white mist.
And then—I appeared above the grey fog.
It was a small garden surrounded by mist, filled with ancient architecture. At its centre stood a massive bronze round table with twelve—no, thirteen bronze chairs.
Because on the main seat sat a mysterious figure whose face I couldn't see.
That was…an Evil God.
...
Klein froze.
He imdiately turned to the final diary page—but the date had already leapt forward to May 16.
Emperor Roselle…actually reached above the grey fog?!
The scene he described was sowhat different from Klein's current one—but Klein knew well that the present "look" of the grey fog domain had been shaped by his own will.
Which ant that the grey fog Roselle described back then…was likely the sa place.
More importantly—it already had a master at the ti!
Recalling Bernadette's curious questions from the last eting, Klein's thoughts whirled.
Could she have co here before, too? t that sa "Evil God"?
Then…where was that previous "master" now?
Dead in the distant past?
Left voluntarily?
Or…sothing else entirely?
Klein couldn't help but worry. After all, he was now the current "master" of this place. Who could guarantee he wouldn't suffer the sa fate as the last one?
What if the original owner returned to reclaim his "property"?
I'm only pretending to be an Evil God, Klein thought grimly. The one Roselle t might've been the real deal.
He tapped the bronze tabletop lightly, feigning deep contemplation while actually steadying his emotions.
But then, his gaze drifted toward the far depths of this space—the radiant Stairway of Light that led upward, resembling the path to Heaven itself, faintly corresponding to his Sequences.
That stairway, built for giants, led to a floating layer of grey-white fog—as though sothing sacred rested there.
He had tried to ascend it once, but failed. Well—"failed" wasn't quite right. Each ti he advanced to a higher Sequence, he found he could climb a few steps further.
Judging from what remained, when he reached Demigod, he should finally be able to step into that misty layer.
Could the disappearance of the grey fog's forr master be linked to that place?
It was a question with no imdiate answer.
Maybe…I should ask Queen Mystic.
———
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