Lord of the Mysteries

Chapter 1161 Countdown

Well done… Faced with Amon’s “praise,” Klein forced a smile and politely replied, “Thank you.”

To be honest, he preferred to hear curses rather than “praise,” as that meant that he was close to succeeding.

Of course, Klein suspected that even if he managed to escape, Amon wouldn’t be flustered and exasperated. Based on the character displayed by this God of Mischief, it was very likely that “He” found it interesting and exciting while also inevitably feeling a little depressed and disappointed to the point of being eager for the next round.

“It’s a huge improvement to be able to think of using Door to disrupt me.” Amon smiled indifferently. “But don’t you think that I’d be in a relatively more vigilant state while ‘Door Opening’? And that it’s actually not that easy to be affected by an accident?”

After some thought, Klein answered seriously, “That’s what I thought in the beginning, but later on, I felt that you should be able to grasp my state of mind, believing that I wouldn’t dare to act when you opened the door. When that happens, making an attempt might work wonders.”

Doing it when others believe that you wouldn’t do it was also a strategy.

In his previous life, Klein had come into contact with games that had such a higher level of thinking that made his head spin.

“What if I thought of this level as well?” Amon said with a smile as “He” used “His” knuckle to nudge the bottom of his monocle.

At the same time, the remaining marionettes, which were still alive, took out crystal monocles out of thin air and wore them on their right eye. All of them cast their gazes at Klein.

This left Klein’s scalp tingling. He discovered that the connection between the marionettes and himself had instantly been severed.

“Although you’ve improved, failure still demands some level of punishment.” With a smile, Amon turned around and walked towards the cathedral.

As “He” took a step forward, the marionettes revealed smiles one after another as they collapsed to the ground stiffly. This caused Klein’s soul to be torn apart again and again as the blood vessels on his forehead visibly bulged.

As he endured the pain, he stood rooted to the ground and calmed down after a long while.

During this process, although he had always been in the depths of the darkness, he didn’t suffer any attacks from the terrifying monsters, nor did he turn into a concealed state.

When did Amon steal the concealment powers in this city? If I had tried to commit suicide, I definitely would’ve had the thought stolen from me… My preparations still aren’t enough. I don’t have enough confidence when dealing with Amon, having not considered the things “He” might have stolen into consideration… I really didn’t expect “Him” to release the “day” that “He” stole from the ruins of the battlefield of gods… Regarding what else “He” stole in the past, or whatever “He” has on “Him,” I have no idea. I can’t make targeted preparations… That monocle is some sort of vessel used to store stolen items? Or is it part of Amon to begin with? So every time he parasitizes someone, a monocle will be taken out… Klein rubbed his temples and walked into the cathedral. Looking at Amon before the door of light, he asked, seemingly casual, “Why do you have so many monocles? Where do you usually place them?”

Amon stroked the monocle on “His” right eye and smiled indifferently.

“Why don’t you ask me why every avatar of mine has eyes? And where do I usually place them?”

“…I understand.” Klein nodded in enlightenment.

Amon cast “His” gaze back to the door of light that had yet to calm down from the rippling. “He” casually said, “I have the nagging feeling that this operation of yours is a major preparation piece, and not an attempt.

“What cheap trick did you pull off during that process?”

After some deliberation, Klein replied with a smile, “Guess.”

“I do have some guesses. Do you think I’ve guessed it correctly?” Amon asked with interest as “He” pinched the edge of his monocle.

“Perhaps, or perhaps not.” Klein didn’t give a clear answer as he cooperatively walked to Amon’s side. He saw “Him” reach out again and press down on the pale white door of light.

Above the door of light, ripples appeared once again as they became more intense and exaggerated.

After about ten seconds, the ripples spread the surroundings, causing the door of light to expand twice in size.

Amon glanced at Klein, gesturing for him to take a step forward.

Klein instinctively turned his head and looked around the cathedral.

Beyonder characteristics left behind by the mutated monsters were shimmering outside the area that the lantern had lit up. They weren’t all Beyonders when they were alive. After those ordinary people turned into monsters, a large part of the power came from the darkness and degeneration. The powers didn’t belong to them, so no characteristics were purged.

“I almost forgot.” After taking a look together with Klein, Amon suddenly shook “His” head and smiled.

Just as “He” finished his sentence, a bunch of Beyonder characteristics floated up and entered “His” body. They merged with “Him,” leaving only a small portion behind.

“Most of the people who chose to transform into monsters are of the Apprentice pathway, Beyonders and their family members who can enter the city’s ‘dark’ side,” Amon said casually as “He” retracted his gaze.

Even if it’s a similar pathway’s Beyonder characteristic, it would be problematic if it’s directly “eaten,” right? Shouldn’t it only be possible to jump to a higher level of a neighboring pathway? It also allows the accommodation of lower Sequences? Seeing this, Klein was a little stunned as he asked curiously, “Won’t this accumulate madness?”

This wasn’t just a matter of accumulating madness. Klein suspected that if he did it himself, there was a high chance that he would go crazy.

“Others will,” Amon said with a smile, “but not me.”

A true “bug”… Klein couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Then, the distance between him and the door of light disappeared.

Subconsciously, he forgot about the remaining Death pathway’s Beyonder characteristics, and he entered the mutated door of light with Amon.

Endless darkness and squirming lines of light were mixed together, giving rise to the feeling of a sudden descent.

About ten seconds later, he discovered that he and Amon had appeared on a square. The dim yellow light of the animal hide lantern seemed to be stopped by an invisible force, causing it to only illuminate half the square.

Lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the surroundings.

With the help of the lightning, Klein saw several incomplete statues erected around the square. They either had their hands tied to their backs, had their bodies entangled with the thorny roses, or looked like mummies. They gave off the feeling of being “restrained.”

“This city first believed in the Mutant King.” Like a qualified tour guide, Amon introduced the situation of each “scenic site” to Klein. “They’re very interesting. They’re usually restrained and quiet, just like ascetics. However, once they encounter prey, or in special moments in time, they will release a bloodthirsty desire to kill. You can imagine that on the night of the full moon, this is a city where werewolves roam.”

From the looks of it, the Mutants originally had the concept of temperance… Later on, it was led astray by the Mother Tree of Desire… Using the new round of lightning, Klein took a few more looks and asked thoughtfully, “The Mutant King’s image is close to that of a mummy?”

“No. Although ‘He’ is an ugly and twisted man, ‘He’ likes to entangle ‘Himself with thorny roses.” Amon scoffed.

Klein took the opportunity to ask, “What kind of idols will your believers worship?

“In mysticism, your symbol is a clock and a Worm of Time?”

Amon scratched “His” chin and said, “In theory, my believers are all ‘me.’ I don’t need to trouble myself with building an idol.”

My believers are all ‘me’… Thankfully, I have a Blessed like Danitz now… Klein suddenly realized that he was quite similar to Amon in certain aspects.

Of course, when I say “my believer is myself,” it’s a funny story. When Amon says that “my believers are all ‘me,”1 it becomes a horror novel. The difference in style is quite huge… Klein finally mocked himself.

As Amon walked forward, “He” continued, “However, in my father’s era, quite a number of people believed in me. Some of them set off with the name ‘Angel of Time,’ using the emblem of the clock to construct my idol. Some of them used the title of ‘God of Mischief and used a crow covered in mysterious patterns as my image, while others combine the two together.”

Having said that, the monocled Amon suddenly turned “His” head and glanced at Klein before curling his lips.

“We’re less than three days away from our final destination.”

That is to say, I only have three days left… Klein nearly drew in a cold breath of air. The pressure increased rapidly, making him feel as though his nerves were being crushed.

He had yet to determine the true purpose behind this game Amon made, nor did he discover any traces of what he was being driven to do. This meant that he was unable to grasp the key, and he was unable to find a real opportunity to escape.

The performance of Amon’s avatar made him understand that he might not even be able to last ten seconds before “Him.”

As his thoughts raced, Klein fell silent. Following that, he walked out of the square covered in ruins.

There were few pedestrians on the streets as they came and went in a hurry. In Pritz Harbor, where many houses were covered in bum marks, the chestnut-haired Queen Mystic placed a newspaper on the table.

The first page of the Tussock Times was about the king’s assassination. It also claimed that the assassin came from Feysac or Intis.

“This isn’t stopping the disaster, nor is it worsening the disaster…” Bernadette muttered to herself with a serious expression.

She pondered for a moment, picked up the cloth on the table, and wrapped it up. Then, she released her fingers and allowed it to relax.

This time, the coffee cups, pens, newspapers, and other items in the tablecloth disappeared. What appeared were ritual items like silver-made candles.

Following that, Bernadette held a ritual and summoned Gehrman Sparrow’s messenger.

As a partner, she felt that she needed to ask about the other party’s situation and see if there was anything else she needed to help with.

The moment the ritual ended, four blonde, red-eyed heads walked out of the burgeoning candle flame. Dressed in a dark and complicated long dress, Reinette Tinekerr’s neck was empty.

Bernadette’s eyelids twitched indiscemibly before she picked up the letter and gold coin that she had prepared earlier and handed it to the messenger.

One of Reinette Tinekerr’s heads bit on the letter and gold coin while the other head sized up Queen Mystic for a few seconds.

“She” shifted “Her” gaze back and walked into the void. However, just as Bernadette was about to put away the tablecloth, Miss Messenger suddenly appeared again.

One of the two heads with blonde hair and red eyes spoke one after another:

“He…” “Has disappeared…”