Lord of the Mysteries

Outside the Bravehearts Bar, a rental carriage briskly drove by.

Inside the carriage, Klein, who was wearing a half top hat, was sitting opposite Sharron, who was still wearing her black Gothic regal dress.

Looking at the expressionless and pale face of his former bodyguard, Klein was at a loss on how to exchange pleasantries. He could only go straight to the point.

“I’m done with my preparations.”

Although Sequence 6 Faceless had only given him one Beyonder ability, all the powers he had before had experienced a clear upgrade, resulting in a great improvement to his strength. This was the best form of preparation.

However, a Faceless’s powers could be deemed a godly skill in certain situations!

For example, when being pursued or trying to infiltrate… Klein couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild.

Sharron listened quietly and simply said, “Tonight?”

She spoke with a slight rise in intonation towards the end to indicate an inquiry.

“If it’s fine with you, then I’m fine as well,” Klein responded, prepared.

“Alright.” Sharron nodded.

After a few seconds of silence, Klein asked in deliberation, “Have you heard about anything to do with mermaids? Do you know where one can meet such a creature of legends?”

Sharron’s blue eyes stared unblinkingly at Klein, as though she had transformed into a real doll.

After a while, she emotionlessly said, “There are no longer mermaids in places where humans can reach.

“Only the fishermen of the Gargas Islands would occasionally hear the mermaids singing in the midst of a storm during their long voyages to hunt white-tailed whales.”

Located in the depths of the Sonia Sea, the Gargas Islands was the farthest human colony in the sea, characterized by local products such as whale oil and whale meat.

I wonder if this rumor is true or fake… Klein nodded.

“I understand.”

…

The bell chimes in the night rang out quietly, as though they came from a far away place.

There was an abandoned chapel in the middle of Williams Street. Withered vines crawled over its walls and gray stones were strewn everywhere.

Inside the chapel, feces and debris intertwined amidst the rocks and dead grass.

In the half-collapsed corner, a middle-aged man, wearing black tights, was moving stones that hid the entrance to a cave. He carefully and excitedly went into the tunnel, carrying his digging tools, lighting tools, and earth basket.

His hair was gray at the temples, and his eyes were puffy. He was Baronet Rafter Pound, who was considered mentally ill by the outside world, but he was secretly a descendant of the Tudor family of the Fourth Epoch.

This prodigy, who was always entangled with high-class call-girls, had a serious expression on his face, and his eyes were bright. It was impossible to find any signs of him being addicted to drinking and sex.

He pushed himself up on his elbows and rapidly crawled down the slope, as though the end of the tunnel hid the greatest and only hope of his life.

Not long after, he touched the wet mud and cold stone in front of him.

This didn’t extinguish Rafter Pound’s enthusiasm, he repeated motions that he was extremely proficient with after having recently gained the experience.

As he was digging, carrying, and moving things, an empty area appeared before him. It was a dark underground palace that was in front of him.

Rafter Pound’s expression immediately became crazed with excitement. He quickly moved forward and grabbed the black iron badge.

The badge was a hand holding a scepter. Seeing this, Rafter Pound’s eyes lit up as if they were on fire.

Just as he put the black iron badge on his chest, everything in front of him shattered. He was still in the narrow and irregular tunnel, with wet mud and ice-cold stones in front of him.

No, there was someone else there who was quietly “watching” him.

He had no eyes, no nose, no mouth, no eyebrows, and no ears!

Rafter Pound’s pupils contracted. He could only feel a numbness rising along his spine from his waist down to the back of his head.

Without even thinking about it, he immediately threw away all his tools and frantically retreated.

His elbows smacked the ground, but he felt no pain despite having a mangled wound.

Finally, Rafter Pound left the tunnel and returned to the abandoned chapel.

Because of the loss of his lantern, he could only see the deep darkness and the dim “crimson” that shrouded the edges.

Suddenly, the withered vines that were crawling up the wall swayed like snakes. A figure walked out from the darkness.

She was wearing a Gothic regal dress and a black small soft hat, with a pale face to the point of being transparent, as well as pale blonde hair and blue eyes that didn’t look human.

Rafter Pound almost shouted out loud. For such a woman to appear in an environment such as this was no different from a ghost story from folklore!

Tap! Tap! Tap!

He took a few steps back and almost tripped over a rock.

At that moment, he seemed to think of something, and he suppressed his horror in an instant, revealing an excited and hopeful expression.

“A-are you that evil spirit inside the underground palace?

“Yes, it must be you!”

Sir Pound, there seems to be a misunderstanding… Faceless Klein came out of the tunnel and stood in the shadows.

His and Sharron’s original plan had been to scare Rafter Pound off, scaring him so badly that he would no longer dare to explore the underground ruins again. However, Rafter Pound’s reaction was somewhat out of their expectations.

Sharron was silent for a second before tacitly asking, “What do you wish to say?”

Rafter Pound quietly exhaled, and he then curled his lips into a smile.

“After attempting for so many years, I believe you already understand that killing the descendants of the Tudor family won’t help you break the seal.

“Only by working with me, who has the great Tudor Bloodline, can you hope to get out of this predicament that has lasted for more than two thousand years.”

The Tudors knew about the existence of the evil spirit, but they still died in that room… Klein frowned as spoke before Sharron could. He imitated Sharron’s ethereal voice.

“What took you until today to come here?”

This was a branch of the Faceless’s Beyonder powers—to mimic the sound of a target. He could reproduce any voice as long as he heard it before!

Of course, Klein believed he couldn’t repeat the ravings of the True Creator and the pleas of Mr. Door. This Beyonder power was still limited to the realm of ordinary people.

Sharron looked sideways at him but didn’t expose him.

Rafter Pound didn’t notice and chuckled.

“It’s because the Dark Emperor has appeared.

“Fate tells me that the glory of the Blood Emperor will appear once again!”

Is there some logical connection? Klein had an inexplicable feeling that Rafter Pound was more like a madman than before.

He asked in Sharron’s voice again, “Dark Emperor?”

“Haha.” Rafter Pound laughed, “Yes, Hero Bandit Dark Emperor. He must be closely related to the real Dark Emperor!”

Why don’t I know that? Klein felt amused.

He thought for a moment, then he stopped asking, giving up the right to ask questions.

Sharron, for some reason, remained silent.

Upon seeing this, Rafter Pound was overjoyed as he quickly asked, “So, what’s your answer?”

“I refuse,” Sharron replied emotionlessly.

Rafter suppressed his anxiety and tried to persuade her again.

At this moment, his eyes suddenly glazed over as he abruptly took a few steps to the side, arriving at a relatively intact stone wall.

This… Klein and Sharron noticed an abnormality at the same time. They responded in their own ways, one pulling out a revolver and pointing it at Rafter Pound, the other filling the ruined chapel with a crimson lunar brilliance.

Rafter Pound didn’t even look at them. He faced the stone wall and slammed his head into it.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

He slammed his head three times in a row and fainted with blood dripping from his forehead.

Then he got up again, his eyes were bloodshot for some unknown reason.

Rafter Pound raised his right hand and wiped the blood from his forehead, covering his palm with blood.

He stuck out the tip of his tongue, licked the scarlet liquid, and said in an intoxicated manner, “A member of the Tudor bloodline sure is delicious; it’s really intoxicating.

“It will allow my loathing to exceed its limits to the greatest extent, and it will help me temporarily expand the boundary of the seal.”

Klein’s muzzle was aimed at him as he asked in a stunned tone, “The evil spirit in the ruins?”

Blood trickled across Rafter Pound’s face, and he laughed horribly.

“You guessed right.

“Before, I judged that you were weak and wanted to corrupt your mind and enter your dreams to tempt you into rescuing me. Who knows, heh heh, you’re also a person with a secret.”

Don’t be so direct… Klein subconsciously glanced at Sharron, but he found nothing out of the ordinary about her.

“What do you want to do?” Klein asked directly.

The evil spirit sighed.

“I’m an innocent person who was harmed because of Alista Tudor’s ambition. Due to the constraints of my corpse, I’ve been trapped in that underground ruin for nearly two thousand years.

“I hope that you can help me out of this predicament and allow me to become a free spirit. I swear, I won’t involve innocent people.”

After saying that, he looked at Sharron with his bloodshot eyes.

“You should be a Wraith from the Mutant pathway. The next stop is a critical point to becoming a demigod. I’m not sure if you have the Puppet potion formula, but I can help you obtain it. I can even be a part of your ritual. That is the reward I can promise you.”

Puppet, Sequence 4 of the Mutant pathway is called Puppet? What a strange name…Klein muttered inwardly.

The evil spirit turned to look at him.

“You will similarly be rewarded.

“It’s an object that can be considered mystical and precious, and because of some sort of attraction, its holder came to the underground palace and died by the side of the Tudor descendants.

“This is what it looks like.”

As he spoke, the evil spirit spread open the palm of his hand, causing the crimson moonlight to form a scene.

Inside the picture, there was a normal looking tarot card. The image on it was completely different from the others. Sitting inside a chariot wasn’t a king, but rather a male priest wearing a dark red robe.

The priest looked like Roselle Gustav!

This… A Card of Blasphemy! Klein’s eyes instantly shifted. He saw that the starlight in the upper left corner had condensed into a line of text: “Sequence 0: Red Priest!”