What Audrey didn't know was that at the very mont she was communicating with the Psychology Alchemists, above the gray fog, The Fool she had ntioned was receiving a sacrifice from Temperance, Silas.
Seated in his high-backed chair, Klein extended his spirituality, reaching out to touch the hazy door before him.
"Clang!"
The door suddenly burst open, revealing the real world within.
Klein's gaze passed through the door.
He saw a simple altar, and standing behind it was the officiant of the ceremony... not Silas, but an unfamiliar man.
The man's eyes flickered with golden light as he raised two spirituality-rich materials and a stack of pages with both hands.
Not Silas?
Oh right, he can't directly invoke my na...
Klein pondered this.
As his thoughts shifted, an invisible force passed through the door, bringing the offered items above the gray fog.
One Sequence 7 Psychiatrist characteristic, one Sequence 6 Arbiter characteristic.
Silas still couldn't fully trust The Hanged Man Alger, so he was giving him a small portion first to test things out, to see if it could be sold.
This one's worth 1,500 pounds, this one 3,000 pounds...
Klein felt like the two characteristics were practically radiating the glow of gold coins.
He then looked at the stack of pages, only to discover they were Roselle's diary entries, and the handwriting looked sowhat familiar... like his own.
Wait, isn't this... the diary I gave him?!
Round and round it goes, and it's back again!
Klein didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Respected [The Fool], please transfer the two characteristics to The Hanged Man.
As for these ten pages of Roselle's diary, they are my thanks for your assistance in saving back then."
Behind the man stood Silas.
As Silas's mouth opened and closed, the man spoke in tandem.
"Additionally, to digest my potion, I will be engaging in missionary role-playing... May I ask, do you need to spread your glory among the believers?"
Since he was going to preach, he naturally needed a deity to have faith in.
Silas didn't plan to pray to the Seven Gods, and besides, his current self was sowhat connected to [The Fool].
So he thought perhaps he could use the Fool for his role-playing.
Help preach?
Klein froze for a mont, then couldn't help but picture this scene: his acquaintance and colleague, earnestly introducing the great Fool to everyone, guiding them to praise [The Fool]...
Hiss...
His scalp tingled involuntarily, and a mixture of embarrassnt and sha welled up in his heart.
Better not... Besides, the Aurora Order people are still looking for . It would be too easy to expose myself.
With this thought, Klein maintained his profound persona, smiled faintly, and said:
"That won't be necessary. Now is not the ti."
With that, he didn't give Silas a chance to ask again and imdiately closed the sacrificial door.
The three items Silas had sacrificed lay on the long table.
Klein first tossed the diary he had written himself into the pile of miscellaneous items behind him, covering it with gray fog.
Then he picked up the two Beyonder characteristics and imdiately communicated with the star corresponding to The Hanged Man Alger:
"Temperance has completed the transaction. Prepare to receive the items."
This entire series of actions was swift and rapid, almost as if trying to cast certain embarrassing matters behind him.
I need to finish these things quickly.
Detective Isengard Stanton invited to his ho to discuss the case, and I can't be late...
As if making excuses, Klein said to himself inwardly.
***
"[The Fool] actually refused?"
After ending the sacrificial ceremony, Silas frowned and murmured in a low voice.
He had originally thought that preaching in [The Fool]'s na would allow him to oppose the True Creator while also pleasing this deity.
Unexpectedly, He had refused him, and the reason given was "not the right ti."
"What opportunity is [The Fool] waiting for? Will so trendous change occur in the future world?"
Silas pondered, but quickly gave up on this question as it was far too high-level.
After all, he had more pressing matters to consider right now.
"Can't spread the Seven Gods' faith, making them believe in evil gods would be purely harmful, and the most suitable option, [The Fool], won't accept..."
Silas contemplated.
"Use a neutral mysterious existence as a front? That won't work either. They're only neutral, not harmless. If I provoke Them, there'll be trouble..."
After thinking it over from every angle, he simply decided to forge a false deity!
In the world he had transmigrated from, deities were all shaped by people themselves.
Now, he was prepared to learn from that old tradition.
The advantage of this was that he could fabricate holy words at will without worrying about violating a deity's will.
The deity's na... I'll just call it "the Lord." No need to deliberately invent a na.
This way, I can even compete with the True Creator for the title, annoying Him even a little bit.
Thinking this way, Silas gradually made up his mind.
He waved his hand, and the golden light in the gang mber officiating the sacrificial ceremony imdiately dimd, and he regained consciousness.
"Hmm? What was I just doing?"
He saw the altar before him and felt the ntal fatigue from spiritual consumption, speaking in confusion.
"Clean things up, then forget everything that just happened."
Silas told him, and he imdiately cast aside his earlier doubts and began diligently tidying up the altar.
The ability to manipulate hearts really is too convenient, convenient to the point of being sowhat terrifying...
He thought with so emotion, walking out the warehouse door.
At this mont, a group of people stood outside, numbering around a hundred.
Most were middle-aged and elderly n, with a few children and won mixed in.
They all appeared ragged, frail and weary.
Several Reman Gang thugs maintained order on the periphery, keeping them compliant while also making them extrely nervous.
These were the flock Silas had just recently created, not only insufficient in number but also poor in quality.
Anyway, I'll start with a prototype, then slowly adjust based on the feedback from role-playing.
He thought to himself, his gaze lingering for a mont on this group of uneasy, cowering people.
"I have received the Lord's decree."
Silas said to them, his voice not loud, yet echoing in everyone's ears.
"The Lord has seen the suffering of lost lambs and has sent to save you."
The crowd didn't have much reaction. For those struggling on the survival line, faith was no longer sothing particularly important.
Seeing this, Silas couldn't help but smile inwardly.
"Of course, the Lord is gentle and magnanimous. He doesn't mind if the lambs survive first, then listen to His teachings."
As he spoke, he nodded slightly to the gang mbers, and several people carried out two large barrels from the warehouse behind them.
These two barrels stead in the cold outdoors, emitting an enticing aroma.
Inside was hot turnip and potato stew, with a few scattered at pieces, freshly made.
Others brought over several baskets of black bread. This bread was coarse and hard, its only purpose being to fill stomachs.
The crowd's attention was imdiately drawn to the food, their throats bobbing, eyes glazed.
If not for the fierce-looking n standing nearby, they might have rushed forward.
"Form a line and co receive it. After you've eaten your fill, we'll discuss the Lord's glory."
Silas smiled.
Under the gang mbers' direction, the crowd obediently ford a line, like docile lambs.
Watching this scene, Silas imdiately felt that the "Shepherd" potion within him showed signs of loosening.
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