Mozo was stunned by the realization.
White Mask. Green Angel.
With that many coincidences stacked together, there was basically no doubt anymore. This bastard had definitely come from the Formless Court.
After all, while Sequence Twos were not as limited as Sequence Ones, which only had three slots per pathway, advancing to Sequence Two was still extraordinarily difficult, and the number of available positions was still very small.
To put it simply, within any given era, there would only ever be a handful of active Sequence Twos from the same pathway.
And for a Sequence Two to remember an enemy, that enemy was usually another Sequence Two.
Adding the highly distinctive title of White Mask on top of everything else...
Mozo estimated there was at least a ninety percent chance this lunatic had come from his Formless Court.
If that was true, then the number of cards in his hand had just increased significantly.
Still, one thing puzzled him.
Why did the Green Angel keep mentioning elves?
And why was his mental state so obviously abnormal?
Carried over the knight lady's shoulder, Mozo began another round of analysis.
Meanwhile, the battle in the sky was rapidly tilting in the Green Angel's favor.
No matter how many colossal plants erupted from underground, they would collapse halfway through their ascent, destroyed by their own uncontrolled growth.
Watching Count Hearn's increasingly powerless attacks, the Green Angel White Dove laughed wildly.
"Hahahahaha! Useless! Useless! You will never turn me into a sacrifice! Never!"
A sacrifice?! Elves?! The Formless Court... and poor Audrey...
A sudden flash of inspiration exploded through Mozo's mind.
At that moment, he felt as though he had finally pieced everything together.
This guy was most likely from the Formless Court.
And his behavior, which completely violated the nature of a spectator, suggested he had betrayed the Court. That would explain why he regarded White Mask as an enemy.
According to the Contract of Ten, once a member defected, the contract would strip away their Beyonder characteristics.
Judging from his obvious mental instability, he had probably lost most of his sequences but somehow managed to preserve the most critical Sequence Two characteristic.
However, the loss of the rest of his sequence had damaged his sanity.
If that was the case, then the reason this incomplete Green Angel was obsessively creating Tarot cards despite having nothing to do with that identity suddenly made perfect sense.
Because he genuinely had brain damage.
As for the elves...
Mozo suspected that after capturing Audrey, the Green Angel had accidentally discovered that she was a personal servant of the Sun King.
But if a king who had supposedly died long ago still had a personal servant...
Then the obvious conclusion would be that the king wasn't completely dead.
And under those circumstances, a Sequence Two from an adjacent pathway just happened to appear directly above the Sun King's ruins...
When Mozo reached that point in his analysis, he covered his face in exasperation.
No wonder this idiot kept ranting about sacrifices and elves.
He genuinely believed he had become the sacrifice intended to fully resurrect the Sun King.
The entire chain of misunderstandings was so absurd and ridiculous that even after deducing everything, Mozo still struggled to believe the truth could actually be this bizarre.
After sighing into his hand, he comforted himself.
"It's fine. If he thinks he's the sacrifice for the Sun King's resurrection, then he must absolutely hate the Sun King."
"In that case... I should be able to lure him right into my hands and kill him."
Slowly, a nearly perfect plan began taking shape in Mozo's mind.
The battle in the sky gradually reached its conclusion.
Count Hearn's vines and plants were no longer capable of resisting the Green Angel, who had completely seized control of the heavens.
There was no helping it.
If the Count had not been a Sequence Three from a pathway adjacent to the Green Angel's, he would not have been overwhelmed so quickly.
Had he belonged to almost any other pathway, he probably could have stalled until Imperial reinforcements arrived.
Deep underground, the Count glanced at the pocket watch in his hand.
Then he took a deep breath and began revealing his Mythical Form.
The Tree of Life.
An immense and dazzling green radiance somehow pierced through layers of earth and illuminated the sky above.
The next moment, eight enormous fissures suddenly split open across different parts of Cromwell City.
Within those massive openings stood eight Trees of Life, the source of the emerald light.
This was the real reason the Count had remained underground all this time.
Knowing that his pathway placed him at a disadvantage against the Green Angel, he had used the blessing of the Mirror World to continuously duplicate himself.
Seven copies.
Each positioned in a different location.
His plan had been simple:
Trade quantity for time.
As long as enough time passed, the Empire would inevitably win.
Unfortunately, the moment he and his seven duplicates emerged, seven Green Angels flew out of the fortress as well.
The sudden development nearly made the Count curse aloud.
"I thought Green Angels could only maintain three assimilated bodies at most! How the hell did he make this many?! Isn't he afraid of going completely insane?!"
Green Angels could assimilate others into themselves without restriction.
The drawback was that they could normally maintain no more than three assimilated bodies.
Beyond that, madness was inevitable.
What the Count hadn't considered was that this particular Green Angel had already gone insane long ago.
And once someone was already mad, why would they fear a little extra insanity?
In fact, among the many Sequence Twos, Green Angels were one of the few whose combat power could actually increase after losing their sanity.
As a result, the Count's trump card appeared pitifully weak in comparison.
One-on-one battles.
Pathway suppression.
Sequence suppression.
The outcome was obvious.
One after another, the Count's seven duplicates were effortlessly destroyed.
Only the original body remained, struggling desperately.
All eight Green Angels descended and hovered above him with vicious grins.
White Dove, the leader, even drooled as he spoke.
"Hahahaha! Are you going to become one of us too? That sounds fun!"
Then all eight Green Angels simultaneously tilted their heads in confusion.
"If a demigod becomes one of us, will he still be a demigod? Or will he be an angel?"
Hearing that, the Count, so badly beaten that he could no longer maintain his Mythical Form, lay among the ruins, staring blankly at them.
This guy was already insane?
Meanwhile, deep within the underground ruins, Mozo finally arrived after being escorted at full speed by the knight lady.
Passing through the melted bronze gate, he stood before the army of four thousand nine hundred golden warriors.
Looking at the greatest trump card in his possession, Mozo turned toward the knight lady.
"Lady Molly Windsor, I ask that you swear in the name of the god you worship."
His expression grew solemn.
"Swear that you will never reveal what you are about to see or hear to any second person, in any form whatsoever."
Even as a Sequence Five, the knight lady was breathing heavily after everything they had endured.
Though exhausted, she still looked at Mozo warily.
"I need to know what you're planning first."
"Only then can I decide whether or not to swear such an oath before my god."
Having already prepared his explanation, Mozo bowed politely and smiled.
"I am a member of the Formless Court."
"I need to use ancient knowledge collected by generations of my organization's predecessors to awaken this legion."
"Therefore, I require your vow of secrecy regarding the secret you are about to hear."