Up until now, Dmitry still had black hair.
This ant that the divine blood within him had not yet been activated, and he remained mortal.
This seed sowhat inconceivable.
Among the three siblings, as the cleric and the grandmother’s oldest child, Dmitry should have been the closest to the grandmother.
But as of now... it was only he who had yet to awaken.
"You’ve made it, Annan."
Looking at Annan’s silver hair, as well as the dragon scales erging around his collarbone and neck, Dmitry’s tightly knitted brows also relaxed quite a bit.
His expression sowhat complex, he said softly, "Do you... still rember ?"
"I know you."
Annan answered calmly, "My brother, Dmitry Winter."
To know, rather than to rember—
Savoring this subtle difference, Dmitry’s gaze dimd for a mont.
...If Maria heard this news, she might secretly cry.
Dmitry cracked a smile, as if attempting a bitter laugh, but it never quite surfaced.
"If I’m not mistaken," Annan smiled gently, "you have obtained so results through interrogation."
"That’s correct."
Dmitry’s tone was devoid of any emotion, "Only the Winter clan can ta the Frost Beasts, and since father’s illness has worsened and he can no longer leave his bed, and Maria is still in the Tower of the Storm...
"I thought it over and over, and it could only be you."
He wasn’t certain that "Giralda" was Annan.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have barged in so rudely, calling out "Hey". Instead, he would have given Annan a warm embrace, and then said to him seriously and calmly, "I have recognized you, revert to your original form" or sothing similar.
—But considering it would be quite awkward if he had embraced the wrong person.
And it would damage the image of the Winter clan.
That was why Dmitry, playing it safe, called out to test the waters.
Still, realizing that he hadn’t recognized Annan at first glance, Dmitry still felt sowhat ashad.
His own brother, yet he hadn’t recognized him despite their long acquaintance.
...If father were still able to move, perhaps he would be beaten again.
But now, father no longer had the strength to beat him.
"Why keep your identity hidden from ?"
Dmitry frowned tightly, asking in an annoyed tone, "If you had hinted at it to , I would never have taught you to smoke or taken you out for a night of bad liquor... I wouldn’t even smoke in front of you, second-hand smoke is bad for your health, and it’s the sa with that bad liquor if you drink too much of it."
"That’s not my fault."
Annan shrugged, "You brought Leona along with you."
Hearing this, Dmitry’s expression turned serious, "Is there a problem with Leona?"
"No. Or rather, I don’t know."
Annan answered frankly, "But my return to Winter should remain a secret. My next plan is to attend to so matters in the Underground Kingdom, but ’Annan Winter’ is not a suitable identity to appear with in that situation... You understand what I an, right, brother?"
"...Is it sothing very dangerous?"
Dmitry asked in his deep and magnetic voice, "If it is, I will not let you go.
"You are the future Duke. The Winter Duchy still needs you... you should try to use the power that belongs to you. It will eventually be yours anyway."
"Dangerous it isn’t."
Annan waved his hand, "But my status is too high. If people discover my involvent, it will change the nature of things."
What he wanted to do was to operate a civilian Transcendent organization in the Underworld—a world without divine favor—responsible for purifying nightmares.
Undoubtedly, it would gain favor from both the Sages and the Diggers.
Given the players’ nature, who would rampage through the Underworld where legal consciousness was weak and the boundary between ordered and lawless worlds was blurred, while still possessing a heart inclined toward good and order, they were very likely to obtain high esteem among the civilians.
There was a very high likelihood it could beco the third major organization in the Underworld and might even beco official—becoming one of the rulers of the Underground City.
But that was if Annan managed to stay hidden.
If it was discovered that the highest leader of this organization was Annan, acting as the Duke of Winter...
This has taken a turn.
"... Related to the politics of another country?"
Dmitry sharply picked up on another implication that Annan had not yet expressed.
Annan nodded, saying helplessly,
"But once my transformation curse binding is lifted, it can’t be used again during the cooling period. So I can’t change back for the ti being."
He already had so ideas about the Sporogenesis Mill.
However, due to the cooldown of the "final work" of the curse binding, Annan would have to wait a few more days before going down.
This made him feel sowhat sorry for the Four Mahjong Tiles guys.
Annan: On my way, I’ll be there soon.jpg
However, at the ti, Annan could also sense that Dmitry wasn’t entirely convinced that he was Annan.
To make Dmitry believe in his true identity and avoid unnecessary misunderstandings and trouble, Annan decisively canceled the transformation.
Misunderstandings between people are commonplace. Many contradictions and misunderstandings are born from initial misconceptions.
—But if one is truly clever, such misconceptions should never exist from the start.
Although he was slightly different from the Annan in Dmitry’s mory—be it in temperant, hair color, or height—it was precisely because of these differences that it was plausible.
"... I’m sorry."
Though he did not know why he was apologizing, Dmitry still apologized very smoothly.
He had long been accustod to taking the bla for his younger brothers and sisters.
He hesitated for a mont, then said softly, "If that’s the case, why don’t you go back ho first?
"Perhaps see our father? He has been missing you too... You don’t have to take the throne imdiately. But you ought to go back and collect so things, right? Not to ntion anything else—your plans will need money, right?
"Get so money from ho at least, Annan."
Upon hearing this, Annan fell silent for a mont.
... In a daze.
He truly felt a familiar sense of "ho."
Undoubtedly, that past mory had long turned into the silence ointnt.
But that "feeling" still lingered in Annan’s heart.
Although he could not rember anything he had experienced with Dmitry, looking at him, Annan still felt a familiar sense of intimacy.
"Speaking of which... brother."
For so reason, Annan always felt the word "brother" was harder to say than "sister."
Ignoring that odd discomfort, he continued to ask, "Do you know that I erased my own mories?"
"Everyone at ho knows."
"Why exactly did I have to erase my own mories back then?"
Annan asked Dmitry.
This question had baffled him for a long ti.
But so far, no one had been able to give him a complete answer.
They were either sowhat erroneous, or the content was incomplete.
Dmitry probably could provide him with a more complete answer.
Dmitry massaged his temples with so headache.
"Where should I start...
"Here’s the thing, Annan. How much of the Book of the Celestial Chariot have you collected?"
"I’ve collected two-thirds of it."
Annan answered.
"Then I can probably tell you."
Dmitry breathed a sigh of relief and said softly, "From a very young age, you beca ’the Celestial Chariot.’ It was around the ti you traversed the barrier between worlds, coming from the other side of the dream realm through a nightmare as a dium, into the body of the infant Annan.
"The Celestial Chariot is an entity that transcends worlds, and its core essence is ’sublimation.’ Only a mind full of negative emotions cannot wield this power... but the ability to touch upon the truth without mastering it is the most dangerous talent.
"—Because if you cannot beco a true Celestial Chariot, you will turn into The Seventh Daylight’s mirror."
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