Her question instantly stunned everyone present. Klein's heart gave a sudden jolt as he quickly pondered over the implications hidden within Bernadette's words:
Another mysterious space filled entirely with grayish-white fog?
But not this fog above the grey fog?
Klein's mind flashed back to what he had just read in that diary entry, the one describing a so-called "miracle." At the time, he had thought perhaps the Twilight Hermit Order also had access to a fog-filled space, similar to the grey fog above. He had dismissed it as overthinking—but Bernadette's question now filled him with doubt and unease.
He tapped lightly on the table, masking his inner shock, then asked evenly, "You've seen another grey fog-filled space? Or…perhaps your father once encountered it?"
Bernadette nodded calmly.
"My father and I both saw it."
Was Bernadette a member of the Twilight Hermit Order as well? No—when the Order was mentioned earlier, her reaction had shown only passing familiarity, not deep knowledge.
Lady Power's exchange with the Fool left everyone brimming with questions, especially Alger. Her father? Why is the Fool speaking of her father in such a way? Who is he?
Sensing their confusion, Bernadette made no effort to conceal the truth. She spoke plainly:
"My father…is Roselle Gustav."
Aside from Audrey and the still-naïve Priscilla, everyone else mentally produced a string of exclamation marks.
Roselle Gustav? As in…Emperor Roselle himself?!
Lady Strength's father was Roselle the Great?
Then that meant Lady Strength…was none other than one of the Four Kings of the Sea, the Queen Mystic Bernadette?!
Alger was the most shaken of all. To him, the Queen Mystic was an untouchable figure of legend, a being far removed from ordinary mortals. And yet, here she was—sitting right across from him at the same bronze table, a member of the very same organisation.
Fors felt her scalp prickle. Just now…I handed over pages of Roselle's diary right in front of his daughter! She…she won't be angry, will she?
Emlyn was equally thunderstruck. A shut-in he might be, but he knew all about Emperor Roselle. In fact, many of the dolls and figurines he adored had been inventions or creations originating from that very emperor! Within the "doll world," Roselle Gustav was revered as the "Father of Dolls."
Wait—if she's Roselle's daughter…could she have inherited some of his private collection?
Watching the room's shocked expressions, Klein felt a measure of his long-standing tension dissolve. This is the Tarot Club—there will always be new surprises waiting for its members.
After a long pause, the Fool finally spoke with quiet calm, "I cannot be certain what fog-filled space you refer to, nor can I give a precise answer.
"Of course, if you can provide more clues, perhaps I may be able to help."
Bernadette bowed her head slightly.
"That will be all for today."
Cutting the connection, Klein leaned back into his bronze chair, pressing a hand to his temple. His mind was still turning over Bernadette's question.
'Another space filled with grey fog'…Did she mean the Twilight Hermit Order's gathering place? Or does such a thing truly exist in this world?
A wild thought suddenly seized him: Could it be that every transmigrator possesses their own version of the grey fog? That girl I met on Symeem Island—does she possess her own grey fog as well?
No…surely not. If that were true, then the incantation I devised shouldn't have been able to point so precisely to me.
After a long moment, Klein shook off the mess of thoughts. "Better to focus on finishing the digestion of the Faceless potion…and then seek out the Queen Mystic's assistance in advancing to Sequence 5."
"Medici, where did you just run off to?"
The moment Medici returned, he found Priscilla wandering the premises, searching high and low. "You didn't sneak away behind my back to do something bad, did you?"
Medici snorted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Hmph. Do I need to sneak around to do bad things behind you, you little brat? I could do it right in front of you and you still wouldn't realise."
"I'm not that stupid!"
"What did you all talk about at today's gathering?"
Priscilla flopped onto the sofa, lifted a cup of juice, and took a sip before answering nonchalantly, "Nothing much. Just some commissions, some trades."
Medici narrowed his eyes.
"That kid…did he show up?"
Priscilla's face carried a trace of worry. "Big Brother Edward and Lilith still haven't attended this week's gathering. I don't even know where they've gone."
Medici sneered. "Hmph. I said it long ago—nothing good comes from getting tangled up with Adam. That brat is probably already dead in some corner by now."
"No way! Mr. Fool said Brother Edward is still alive—just trapped somewhere."
Medici chuckled darkly. "Hah. Naïve. Laughably naïve."
"Medici, you're getting more and more unbearable these days!"
"I was never born to be liked."
"But you weren't before. You used to be so nice—you even told me bedtime stories every day."
"That was just me fooling around, humouring an idiot."
"… Are you sick or something?"
Medici burst out laughing. "Me? Sick? Don't make me laugh!"
"A…mental illness, then?" Priscilla hesitated, then offered softly, "Why don't I ask Audrey to give you a session of psychological treatment?"
His smile twisted. "Sure—though I'm not sure who would be 'treating' whom, in that case."
"Ugh, forget it. I won't waste my time on you. Mr. World just issued us all a commission—I'm going to find someone to help with the investigation."
"He wants us to track down a woman."
Priscilla narrowed her eyes, trying to recall, then transmitted the image directly to Medici. "This one."
The moment the familiar face surfaced in his mind, Medici's smile vanished.
Edward felt a pang of disappointment.
After giving Medici the threefold honorific, he had waited until nightfall—but still hadn't heard him recite the invocation to establish a connection with the Sefirah Castle.
I thought Medici feared nothing, that he was truly reckless. Don't tell me…the sealed Medici was incapable of speech? That he couldn't even chant the incantation? That would explain it. But if that's the case—how awkward… Googlᴇ search noveⅼfire.net
At dinner, Arlde came to bid Edward farewell.
He needed to hurry back and consult his grandfather about matters regarding Ancestor Lilith.
One had to admit: for all the vampires' eccentric habits, questionable personalities, and occasional unreliability, the moment anything involving Ancestor Lilith arose, they became intensely serious.
Arlde was , and in the future, Emlyn would be the same.
"You're not going back with him?" Edward asked Akasha.
She blinked in surprise, pointing at herself. "I thought…I thought I had to stay here as a hostage?"
"I'm not a kidnapper—why would I need a hostage?" He paused, then explained patiently, "Akasha, you need to be clear. You and Arlde are working for me as atonement—punishment for breaking into my home that night. I also promised to give you what you wanted, and we signed a contract. From any angle, I hold the moral high ground."
Akasha slapped her thigh in frustration. "Ugh! You should've said that earlier! I didn't know!"
"I thought you tricked Arlde into going back with Ancestor Lilith's name, and left me behind as collateral—to wait here and report to you once he returned."
Edward's knife paused over his steak. As expected. This seemingly scatterbrained, careless vampire woman actually sees through everything. She's sharper than she lets on.
"If you understood that much, why didn't you stop Arlde from leaving?"
Akasha spread her hands. "I'm curious too. I want to know the truth about our Ancestor. Outside, the rumours say She fell in the Third Epoch. But for thousands of years, whenever something major happened, our elders still insisted on reporting it to the Progenitor. Isn't that contradictory?"
"Especially in the past few centuries—I've heard Ancestor Lilith has responded many times."
The past few centuries…To a long-lived race, centuries really were only "recent."
She went on, "But the responses have always been strange—so strange that the elders couldn't make sense of them."
Edward's heart skipped. "What do you mean, strange?"
"How would I know? I'm just a little baron. Overhearing a thing or two from Grandfather is already a big deal."
"So Arlde probably won't learn much from going back?"
"Not necessarily." Akasha wagged her finger. "If what you said is true—that there really is a Beyonder using the name of Ancestor Lilith—then the whole situation changes. The elders definitely won't ignore it. No way."
She grinned mischievously. "Heh. I can't wait to watch the show."
Edward sighed inwardly. Yes, Akasha was exactly the same two centuries later. Back then, when she went to the outskirts of Backlund, it was also just to watch a "show."
He lifted his glass of iced tea, sipping as he turned over what she'd just said.
Strange responses from Ancestor Lilith…could it be that the one answering wasn't the vampires' Lilith at all—but my Lilith?
Everyone knew: in this world, if someone bore the same name as a deity, they risked becoming that deity's vessel.
But what if there were two deities with the same name? When someone prayed directly—calling "Ancestor Lilith" rather than using an honorific—who would respond?
The vampires' Lilith was "dead," her divinity dormant. Meanwhile, his Lilith—though she had failed against Cheek in the race to ascend to Sequence 0—was at least Sequence 1, perhaps stronger, given she later dared to challenge Cheek in the Astral World.
So when the vampires prayed to their "dead" Lilith, the prayers might have been intercepted by his Lilith instead.
That would explain the strange responses.
And then, considering that in the future the Sanguine Ancestor would even apologise—this strongly suggested there was a deep connection between his Lilith and theirs.
Hopefully, Arlde really can bring back some valuable news.
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