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Chapter 318 Strange Dreams
Chapter 318 Strange Dreams
"The Silver Key?"
Triss murmured to herself, a look of doubt and curiosity in her eyes.
Cyril nodded slightly, his tone leisurely yet solemn as he said, "Silver is the color of destiny, and it also represents time and space. My Lord is the eternal beacon in darkness and depravity, and the key that leads us to transcend fate."
As he spoke, he extended his right hand, raised three fingers and placed them on his left chest, bowed slightly, and gave a salute.
Triss then returned the gesture, saying, "Hail, great Silver Key."
Unfortunately, the One Who Unifies All Things is occupied by "Eternal Darkness" and cannot be used indiscriminately, which makes me feel like something is missing.
As his thoughts drifted, a phantom book appeared in his eyes, and the figure leaning against the window frame quickly faded and disappeared.
In the South Side of the Bridge, at Irving's home, Tobias was lounging comfortably in an armchair by the fireplace in the dining room.
On the other side, Owen stared in shock and astonishment at the guy who had been living in his house since being brought back by Cyril: "You mean you've become a Sequence 3 demigod?"
"But didn't you drink the arsonist's potion just before you left? Was the potion you drank the kind that doesn't require digestion?"
Tobias glanced at him, tilting his chin slightly, and said, "There are no potions in this world that don't require digestion."
"Furthermore, if I hadn't been interrupted by those two Augustusian angels, I could have become an angel on the spot today."
As soon as he finished speaking, Cyril's figure was quickly outlined in front of the fireplace.
Tobias sprang to his feet from the armchair, placed his hand on his chest, and bowed, saying, "Good afternoon, no, good evening, Your Highness."
'
"Sirius looked at him silently."
If it weren't for the feedback from his spiritual intuition indicating that the other party was normal, he would have suspected that Tobias was contaminated by the spiritual imprints left by the characteristics of Lyalista Tudor that had been aggregated into his body, or that the contamination of the "City of Calamity" had caught up with him as the sequence advanced.
After a two-second silence, he casually remarked, "You look pretty good."
Tobias replied respectfully, "Yes, Your Highness."
"Relying on the extraordinary characteristics that have been aggregated, I have recovered to the Sequence 3 level. However, since these are characteristics that I have not yet absorbed, it will take some time to digest them again."
Cyril nodded: "Show me, let me see if I can record a few abilities."
"No problem," Tobias agreed quickly.
As soon as he finished speaking, his body suddenly disintegrated, turning into multiple wisps of blue flame that wandered around the room before reforming.
He then continued to create flames, condensing them into a solid, powerful spear, a fireball as scorching as a small "sun"...
Cyril stood to the side, watching intently as Tobias's mutated "brain," enhanced by the potion, repeatedly recorded every detail of his extraordinary abilities.
After recording his extraordinary abilities, he chatted with Owen and Lawrence for a while, recounting his experiences at sea and the events of the day, before taking his leave.
After he left, Tobias lazily lay back down in his armchair.
Owen, both curious and surprised, gathered around and stared at him, asking, "What happened to you just now? I remember you weren't acting like this towards Sirion during the day?"
After a brief moment of reflection, Tobias sighed, "I simply realized the profound difference in status between us."
Irving: o—0? ?
"What's the difference?"
"Didn't you always say you used to be an angel? Did you meet a real angel and get a lesson from them?"
Tobias gave him a complicated look, then shook his head: "This is not something you should know."
After saying that, without giving Owen a chance to ask further questions, his body suddenly disintegrated into streams of flames, which rushed through the stairwell and surged up to the second floor.
Irving turned to Lawrence, who said thoughtfully, "Perhaps he has witnessed the identity of your friend, the Chosen One."
Back home, Sirien met Harvin, who had just returned from the lab and didn't look too good.
"Fortunately, neither my father nor my mother came back. Beth's family had already left Backlund for the Sea County."
"Otherwise, otherwise..."
Cyril sat down beside him, leaning back on the sofa, and continued, "So, striving to become a more powerful Extraordinary is more useful than praying for good luck and protection when disaster strikes."
"Self-help is the best form of salvation."
Havin paused for a moment, then asked, "Is this what motivates you to work so hard for promotion?"
"I suppose so." He sighed softly and patted Ha Wen on the shoulder. "Go and rest first. You can save what you need to say for tomorrow. You seem a bit tense."
Ha Wen: "Okay."
After watching Havin return to his bedroom, Xireen also went back to her own room, lay down on the bed, and fell asleep without realizing it.
In a hazy state, he felt a sense of oppression and constraint coming from all directions, making it hard for him to breathe.
It felt like being trapped in dark mud, unable to escape no matter how hard you struggled.
He felt as if there was an invisible barrier between his body and mind. No matter how hard he tried, his consciousness could not control his body, as if he were experiencing sleep paralysis.
He didn't know how long they had been stuck in this stalemate, but he vaguely heard someone calling his name from the depths of the darkness.
He wanted to respond, but couldn't utter a sound.
As the blinding sunlight faded and the invisible barrier between his body and mind disappeared, he suddenly sat up in bed.
The bright surroundings made him squint slightly, feeling a little uncomfortable.
After he came to his senses, he noticed that it was already bright outside, and sunlight streamed in through the glass window, shining directly onto his bed and his face.
'
"So, it was just a dream?"
He rubbed his messy hair, got up, went to his desk, found a gold coin, and flicked it into the air with a clang.
After repeating this several times, he put the gold coins back in their place, then took a shower to clear his head.
After he got dressed and returned to the bedroom, large swaths of grayish-white mist suddenly appeared in front of him.
The Fool, seated atop the endless gray fog, looked down at him: "Get ready, I'm going to pull you up into the gray fog."
Cyril lowered her gaze and looked around before lying back down on the bed.
"That's fine."
As soon as he finished speaking, an invisible, immense force descended upon his spiritual body, and as he deliberately relaxed, his spirit suddenly soared.
His vision blurred, and then he saw the ancient palace above the gray fog, which resembled the dwelling of a giant, and Klein sitting in the "Fool's" chair.
Ok?
"...Who are you?"
At the head of the long, weathered table, in the high-backed chair belonging to the "Fool," sat neither Sherlock Moriarty nor Klein Moretti, but a figure he had never seen before.
He was a young man with neatly combed black hair, deep brown eyes, and a rather thin, angular face.
He wore gold-rimmed glasses and had no beard, making him look both young and experienced.
He glanced at Cyril, then raised his hand to adjust the gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose: "This is the new image I've designed for myself."
"I plan to leave Backlund in the next couple of days to go to sea to digest the Faceless Man's potion and, incidentally, search for traces of the mermaids."
...So this is what Gehrman Sparrow looks like.
After clearing his mind, Cyril nodded slightly and said, "That's a good idea. Making money at sea is much easier than being a detective."
Klein, dressed as Gehrman Sparrow, had a barely perceptible glint in his eyes before clearing his throat with restraint. "My main purpose in going to sea is to digest the potion, search for traces of the mermaids, and incidentally evade the investigation by Backlund."
"The identity of Sherlock Moriarty was not carefully fabricated at the time, and the official church could easily find the problem if they investigated seriously."
"Especially within the Church of the Night, there are..."
...and there's also the poet classmate who dares to dig up your grave with a shovel.
After mentally making a sarcastic remark, Cyril asked with a curious expression, "By the way, what are you planning to call your new identity?"
"Um... I haven't decided yet." Klein shook his head.
He had actually already thought it through, but being asked so suddenly made him feel a little ashamed, and he didn't really want to say the name he had chosen.
He paused, then changed the subject: "Yesterday, inside the underground ruins where the Aurora Society summoned the True Creator, I overheard a conversation between a witch and Mr. A."
"The Aurora Society was hastily recruited by the Witch Cult and the Royal Family of Rune to take the blame. They wanted to use the massive smog and the Aurora Society's summoning of the true creator to erase some traces."
"I don't know what traces they're trying to erase, but it's likely related to missing persons cases at sea and human trafficking in Backlund."
"I saw Baron, the one the Hanged Man told us to look for, in that underground ruin."
""
After speaking, he paused slightly, then asked, "What did you discover?"
Cyril leaned back in his chair, lowering his posture, and said, "The ritual for the descent of the 'True Creator' was stopped by the 'Mysterious Queen,' who used this opportunity to complete the ritual and ascend to Sequence 2, becoming a 'Sage.'"
"The witch who used the smog to cause the plague in Backlund was eliminated by 0-17. Triss, who was raised by the 'Primordial Witch' as a vessel for divine intervention, broke away from the witch cult, and the ring that could trigger divine intervention was also destroyed."
"Prince Edsack committed suicide, and even his spirit was annihilated."
"In this incident, almost everyone who appeared in the public eye was eliminated, and the leads that the three major churches could investigate seem to have been cut off."
He paused, then suddenly leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of the table, looked at Klein, and said with a light laugh, "The Witch Cult and the Royal Family of Rune are cooperating for the sake of a 'Conqueror' identity."
"Yesterday, the Royal Family of Rune transferred the 'Conqueror' trait to a witch, but it was stolen midway."
Klein looked at him in surprise and shock, then suddenly asked, "Is this related to you?"
Cyril nodded slightly: "Although some unexpected things happened along the way, the 'Conqueror' trait is indeed in my hands now."
Klein looked at him suspiciously: "Why do I have a feeling that you premeditated this?"
Cyril shook his head: "It wasn't exactly premeditated, we were just lucky and happened to be prepared."
The two then talked for a while about the impact of the recent smog event. The topic suddenly became heavy, and the two fell silent after a short while, ending the conversation.
A deep red, illusory light rose before his eyes, and after a moment of disorientation, Sirion found himself back in his bedroom.
Call ~
He let out a soft breath, jumped out of bed, and went downstairs.
In the restaurant, there was a cold breakfast that Havin had left for himself, as well as a copy of today's Tasok Daily that had already been turned over.
Cyril sat at the dining table, his eyes reflecting a phantom, ever-turning book.
Snapped!
He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and several golden, illusory flames instantly ignited in front of him.
This is a trick he discovered while in the Gargas Islands for heating food.
The light of the sun's domain is unlikely to cause substantial harm to things outside the realms of evil, depravity, and darkness.
Moreover, this illusory flame burns the spirit and spirituality, and has almost no effect on things that do not possess spirituality.
Thus, this radiant fire from the sun became his helpful tool for heating food.
After warming up his cold breakfast, he took it and the newspaper and sat down near the fireplace.
He then ate his breakfast while flipping through today's Tasok Daily:
According to preliminary statistics, more than 12000 people died directly from the smog, and the subsequent spread of the epidemic claimed more than 20000 lives, including young children and healthy young men and women.
The disaster hit the eastern district, the dock area, the factory area and the Backlund Bridge area the hardest, with many workers dying from the plague or falling ill, causing many factories to shut down.
Both houses of parliament have passed the report of the Air Pollution Investigation Committee, and corresponding legislation will soon be enacted to regulate the emission of smoke and wastewater. We will be facing a new Backlund.
After flipping through the newspaper for a while, Sirion threw it aside.
"As expected, these people are the same no matter which world they're in."
After muttering something, he looked at the flickering firelight in the fireplace and fell into deep thought.
...Although I no longer remember the number of people who would have died in this disaster, the hurricane I triggered in advance should have saved many people.
As for the storm and getting lost in the spirit world at that time, Ince Zangwell probably didn't have time to write about those things in 0-08.
So, is this a necessary sacrifice?
Is the "conqueror" quality that Amon stole and then gave to me a comfort?
After letting his thoughts wander for a while, he took out the harmonica he used to summon messengers, brought it to his lips, and blew on it forcefully.
A few seconds passed, and before he knew it, Erdfana, pale and emaciated, was standing beside him.
It seems you don't have any mail that needs to be delivered.
Upon hearing the sound, Cyril belatedly realized that Erdfana had already appeared.
He quickly turned to look at the other person: "I wanted to tell you that Adam has probably already noticed you're near me."
Erdfana nodded slightly, his expression unchanged: "I know, I knew yesterday."