How did the conversation turn this philosophical so quickly? Not only was it touching on divine scheming — it had ascended to the question of what it takes to become a god in the first place.
Bernadette, have you actually been imagining, all this time, what it would be like to become a god yourself?
That would be quite the ambition.
A pity, though — compared to Roselle leaping straight to the Black Emperor, the Hermit Pathway's road to godhood was a great deal harder. The Hidden Sage blocked the way like a locked gate.
That's actually why Roselle had no choice but to jump to the Black Emperor Pathway — wasn't it?
"Do you need me to keep telling stories?"
"Not for now. The seven or eight you told earlier will keep me busy for a while."
Bernadette stretched. "We've had quite enough excitement for one night. Get some rest."
"I have one more question first."
Vincent said, "Have you ever had any dealings with the Error Pathway? High-sequence ones in particular?"
"I've encountered Error Pathway Beyonders — but nothing above Sequence 4."
She asked, puzzled, "Why?"
Because Amon has probably already had his way with everyone involved.
"Just a random thought," he said. "Back in the underground, when that Mirror Person deceived the others, his nose grew first — because of your Mystic Recasting — and then you stopped his ongoing crime and he was flogged. The nose-growth was the Accusation taking effect."
"Right."
"So against an Error Pathway Beyonder — would their Theft be completely blocked because you'd be stopping a crime in progress?"
"In theory, yes."
"And when an Error Pathway Beyonder tries to steal from us — could the Words of Order stop that too?"
"Mm. A Beyonder's Theft, while a supernatural power, is still an act of crime."
The more he thought about it, the more the Prosecutor's abilities seemed tailor-made to counter everything the Error Pathway could do. If they ever found themselves facing the final boss, Amon, the Words of Order might produce remarkable results — provided they were at a comparable Sequence level.
And there was still the Nation of Disorder itself as a trump card.
Who's afraid of whom?
Of course — if at all possible, it would be far better not to encounter Amon at all. The main character could deal with the final boss. Vincent would be perfectly happy standing on the sidelines cheering: "Go get him, Mr. Fool!"
Deep in the night. All was still.
At the Gloucester estate.
Several figures moved in perfect unison — a disciplined, well-drilled squad. Following the silent gestures of their commander, they spread swiftly around the perimeter of the old manor.
They reassembled quickly from every direction, one by one making the all-clear signal. The squad regrouped and moved to the door of the master's bedroom.
"Confirmed — not one person inside?"
"Correct. The maid, the butler — not a trace."
"Tch. What kind of intelligence did those useless people gather? I'm starting to doubt whether the person who was at that ruin is even here at all."
"That's why the last capture operation failed."
"This time — dead or alive doesn't matter. Kill on sight, conduct a spirit channelling right there."
"Understood!"
These exchanges were all conducted in pure thought — a capability belonging to a Sequence 3 War Bishop. And this squad operated under exactly such a War Bishop's command.
"Move!"
On the commander's signal, the group fanned out. Counting down from five, they simultaneously breached every door and window and flooded into the room.
"Hasn't anyone told you lot that waking people up is deeply rude?"
In the dimness, a young man with a casually roguish air sat propped up in the bed, head tilted, watching the intruders pour in.
The lead man raised his weapon and fired instantly, simultaneously triggering his Harvest ability — going for an immediate, certain kill.
Nothing happened.
The gun was gone. The Harvest ability was gone.
"An Error Pathway Beyonder!"
His expression darkened. "Everyone — attack!"
But the others, who had been in perfect mental contact with him moments ago, were now silent. He spun around — and found them all standing perfectly still, faces blank — wearing small smiles that sent a chill straight down his spine.
Then every single one of them reached up and put on a monocle.
Including him.
He had no idea when it had appeared on his face.
"What am I—"
That was his last coherent thought.
"Ha. How interesting."
Stephen — or rather, the "Stephen" that Amon now inhabited — propped his cheek on his hand with a slight smile. "The Iron Cross Society? Coming for Medici's group?"
"But those three are down to a single evil spirit by now. What's the point..." He paused. "Oh — or is it the Card of Blasphemy? Or did the Tudor bloodline leave something else behind in those ruins?"
He tapped his fingers in the air, idly, as if playing a piano — then smiled: "Found you."
His figure vanished. When it reappeared, he was somewhere on the outskirts of Backlund. A red-haired man flung a flaming spear at him without hesitation — the projectile detonating in mid-air, blooming into a vast, searing white inferno.
Amon's right hand closed and he stole the white flames. He reached out again, and again, stealing several things from the red-haired man in quick succession.
Crack.
The man burst apart into shards of broken mirror. His true body reappeared ten metres away, stumbled back in alarm, and the space behind him rippled like disturbed water. His silhouette began to sink into it.
Amon reached out to steal again — but in that instant, His thoughts lurched and distorted. He found Himself reaching for a tree a few metres away instead. By the time He recovered, the red-haired man had gone.
Where he had vanished, however, a mirror remained — like a still water surface — and within it, a tall figure wearing a crown gazed back at Amon from across the distance.
The two looked at each other for a few seconds.
Splash.
The mirror-surface shattered and fell as water across the ground.
Amon didn't seem particularly bothered. He simply said, quietly and with amusement: "Things are becoming more and more interesting."
The following morning.
Xio came knocking.
When she saw Bernadette at the door, she froze for a split second, then immediately apologised. "Sorry — I think I have the wrong address."
She stepped back outside, double-checked the house number, and muttered to herself, scratching her head: "No, this is right. Must have been what she told me."
"Come in, Xio."
"Oh?"
Hearing the familiar voice, Xio's eyes went wide. "It really is you, Lady Natasha? What... how...?"
Bernadette laughed softly. "One gets tired of wearing the same face. A change of scenery is nice, isn't it?"
"Ah?"
What kind of answer is that?
Then she thought of Qilangos, who reportedly possessed an item that changed faces. She had only heard about it — but seeing it happen to Lady Natasha, suddenly appearing this much more... striking... made the reality of "face-changing" sink in properly.
And then the implications hit her all at once: someone out there could disguise themselves as Fors and talk to her, walk with her, even sleep beside her — and she would never know.
Xio felt a shudder run down her spine.
"What's happened? You're here so early. Using my messenger would have been faster, surely?"
"No!" Xio's expression went serious. "This had to be in person."
She paused. "Last night I ran into Sherman."
Sherman?
The man determined to become a woman.
"What happened?"
"I think he's become a Beyonder!"
Xio frowned, recounting the memory. "His movements turned abnormally quick and fluid. I couldn't quite follow. Short of consuming a potion and becoming a Beyonder, I can't think of another explanation."
"Lady Natasha — did you know about this?"
Bernadette shook her head. "I haven't seen Sherman in weeks. The last time he came to me, I told him what it would cost to become a Beyonder — and that was that. But the kind of speed you're describing does fit the Assassin."
"The Assassin? What pathway is that?"
"The Demoness Pathway. Its Sequence 9 is Assassin. At Sequence 7, the Beyonder is forcibly transformed into a woman — which is why it's one of the rare pathways not named after its lowest Sequence."
Bernadette thought it through. "Your friend has no money and no connections. To find the Assassin formula and the ingredients, brew the potion, and become a Beyonder all this quickly — someone helped him. Someone who had a reason to."
"I... did see the person helping Sherman. A woman. Extraordinarily beautiful. She seemed to be giving Sherman assignments to complete — telling him it would help him advance to Sequence 7 faster."
"Then that woman would be a member of the Demoness Sect."
To be continued…
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