KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess Chapter 209: [209] Two Steps Ahead of a Bad Day

Nolan nodded. "I’ve mapped their patrol routes, anticipated their strategies. I knew they’d send White Ravens three days before they arrived. I predicted the Inquisitor’s path weeks ago."

"That’s why you’ve survived," Naomi said. "You’re always one step ahead."

"Two steps, actually." Nolan offered a thin smile. "But it cos with a price."

"What price?" Margaret asked gently.

Nolan turned away, adjusting sothing on one of his contraptions. "To maintain this level of ability, I need to remain... underestimated. Dismissed. Forgotten." His voice grew quieter. "I have to embrace being nothing in their eyes. The mont I beco a serious threat—the mont they truly fear —my power begins to fade."

Xavier understood the psychological burden imdiately. To be strong, Nolan had to accept, even encourage, others seeing him as weak. His greatest strength ca from his greatest insecurity.

"That’s why you hide here," Xavier said. "The ruins themselves feed your ability."

"Yes. The Archivist sees humans as temporary, insignificant creatures. Its dismissal alone gives enough power to predict the Court’s movents across the entire region."

Ashley approached the map, her golden fractures casting strange shadows across its surface. "The Archivist. Old Ren ntioned it. What exactly is it?"

"Not what. Who." Nolan pulled a book from a nearby stack. "The Archivist was once the head librarian. During the Collapse, when the tear in reality appeared over the library, he perford a ritual to contain it. He sacrificed himself, becoming one with the tear, transforming into sothing neither human nor divine."

"And now he collects knowledge," Margaret said.

"Knowledge, mories, souls—anything that contains information." Nolan closed the book. "He’s not evil, exactly. Just... beyond mortal concerns. He lets stay because my predictions amuse him."

Xavier examined the map more closely. Red lines tracked movent across the territory, converging on several points before spreading outward again. Blue markings indicated safe paths, while black X’s marked dangerous areas.

"This is impressive work," he said. "But if you can predict their movents so well, why not just leave? Find sowhere safer?"

Nolan’s expression darkened. "Because running won’t help. Not anymore." He pointed to a specific area on the map. "The Inquisitor isn’t just hunting . He’s hunting all of you."

A chill settled over the group.

"What do you an?" Naomi demanded.

"Your group isn’t the first to co looking for ," Nolan explained. "Three weeks ago, soone else arrived at Dustfall asking questions."

"Who?" Xavier asked.

"I’m... I’m not sure." Nolan touched his chest. "But the Winter Court captured him. The Inquisitor perford so kind of ritual, extracting information."

"About us," Ashley said flatly.

Nolan nodded. "About all seven displaced souls. The Inquisitor now knows who you’re looking for, where you might go next." His finger traced a path on the map. "He’s not coming here for a fight. He’s coming to set a trap."

"When?" Xavier asked.

"Tomorrow night." Nolan pointed to another contraption—this one resembling an astrolabe with crystal fragnts where stars would be. "My calculations are precise. The Inquisitor will arrive with eight White Ravens at moonrise."

Naomi cursed under her breath. "We walked right into this."

"Not yet," Nolan corrected. "But you will if you stay. The ravens are already positioning themselves around the ruins. By dawn, they’ll have all exits covered."

Xavier exchanged glances with his companions. "We’re not leaving without you, Nolan."

"And we still need to find Calypso," Margaret added. "She was separated from us when the ruins shifted."

"She’s possibly with Lorna."

"Can you take us to her?" Xavier asked.

Nolan hesitated, glancing at his map. "Yes, but it ans crossing through the Archivist’s domain. It’s dangerous."

"More dangerous than the Inquisitor?" Ashley asked.

"Different kind of danger. The Inquisitor wants to capture you. The Archivist wants to catalog you—extract your mories, your knowledge, everything that makes you unique."

Xavier felt the King’s Gaze stir at the back of his mind, suddenly interested in this entity that collected information. He pushed the alien presence away, focusing on the imdiate problem.

"We’ll risk it," he decided. "We need Calypso, and we need to get everyone out before the Inquisitor arrives."

"There’s sothing else you should know," Nolan said, his voice dropping. "The Inquisitor isn’t coming alone. He’s bringing soone else. Soone who can control the winter itself."

"Who?" Xavier asked.

Nolan’s face grew grim. "I don’t know his na. But in my visions, he appears as a young man with white hair and red eyes. The White Ravens call him the Winter Prince."

Xavier felt sothing cold and heavy settle in his stomach. The description triggered nothing specific, yet it plucked at the edges of his mory like fingers testing a frayed tapestry. A white-haired youth who commanded winter itself... sothing about that felt disturbingly familiar.

"How reliable are these visions of yours?" he asked, studying Nolan’s face for any hint of uncertainty.

"Ninety-seven point eight percent accurate," Nolan answered without a mont’s hesitation, adjusting his glasses with one finger. "Give or take point three percent for variables I cannot adequately account for in my current mathematical models."

Naomi whistled softly through her teeth. "Those are so damn good odds in this business. Better than the stock market."

Nolan thodically gathered items from his cluttered workspace—a small leather pouch filled with intricate tools, several crystal fragnts that pulsed with faint blue light, and the oddly designed crossbow.

"If we’re going to reach our friends and escape before the Inquisitor arrives with his winter-wielding companion, we need to move imdiately." He pulled a rusted lever beside his workbench, and several of the mysterious contraptions around the room began whirring more rapidly, lights blinking in complex patterns. "I’ve spent weeks—months, actually—preparing various escape routes through the library’s hidden passages. There’s one path that might still remain uncompromised, but I should warn you..." he glanced at each of them in turn, "it won’t be particularly easy."

"Nothing ever is," Xavier muttered.

Nolan offered a thin smile. "That’s why they underestimate us. And why we’ll win."

He led them toward a narrow doorway hidden behind a stack of books, pausing to extinguish the crystal lights with a small device from his pocket.

"Stay close," he whispered as darkness fell around them. "The Archivist’s servants are drawn to sound and movent. And whatever you do, don’t touch the crystal growths. They’re how he collects mories."

Xavier unsheathed both his daggers, feeling their comfortable weight in his hands. "Lead the way, Professor."