Stepping out of the train station, Adrian led the siblings onto a waiting carriage. Mr. Z, driving, saluted Adrian:
"Your Excellency."
Adrian nodded, ushering Benson and Melissa aboard. After settling their housing, he politely declined their lunch invitation, stepped out, and joined Mr. Z's carriage, heading to the Aurora Order's manor.
"What's happened?" Adrian asked softly, crushing a charm to erect a Wall of Spirituality within the carriage. The barrier excelled at concealing occult phenomena and soundproofing. With Aurora Order aid, Adrian now carried glass charms, transforming them into photos for convenience.
He mused about developing charm-inscribed glass cups, windows, or lamps—items to smack opponents with if talks failed.
"It's the Demoness Sect," Mr. Z lowered his voice. "A Demoness of Despai learned we're sheltering Trissy Cheek and demands her return, claiming sect members are like sisters, unwilling to see them parted."
"Return her? Hah, on what grounds?" Adrian scoffed. "Let her keep dreaming."
"Understood," Mr. Z nodded. "I rebuffed her, but she didn't press further or show odd emotions. Instead, she extended another invitation."
"Invitation, huh? To what?" Adrian leaned back casually. "Details."
"It's about a prior collaboration issue from Mr. A's dealings with them," Mr. Z chose his words carefully while driving. "It concerns the Backlund Great Smog plan the Demoness of Despair discussed with Mr. A. Back then, our Lord hadn't graced us, and they offered to let us use the victims' souls for our Lord's divine descent ritual."
"Our Lord's descent doesn't need sinners' souls now; their plan's a bust," Adrian said. "That's all she said? Let me guess—she claims she needs this to digest her Demoness of Despair potion?"
"Exactly, Your Excellency," Mr. Z nodded. "She said the operation's reward is digesting her potion, but it felt off, so I consulted you first."
"You're right; it's suspicious. She's asking for too little," Adrian nodded. "If it's about digesting her potion, why here? Thanks to Loen's plundering, lives in the Southern Continent are cheaper than a banknote, with despair aplenty to gorge them. Those witches aren't fools; they'd aid our descent ritual only for their own gain."
Adrian leaned forward. "Which Demoness of Despair seeks to collaborate?"
"Nightingale of Despair, Panatiya," Mr. Z replied respectfully. "She plans to visit this afternoon to discuss cooperation."
"She's confident, assuming we'll eagerly agree," Adrian mused. "Klein's interview ends this afternoon; I'll wait for him. Z, have my messenger send Panatiya a letter to wait until evening."
Adrian waved dismissively, adding, "If Klein doesn't ask about this, don't mention it."
"Understood, Your Excellency," Mr. Z replied, inwardly marveling at Adrian's foresight. Delaying the Demoness Sect's envoy while welcoming another Favored wasn't simple—it held layers of intent.
First, it signaled the Aurora Order's superiority over the Demoness Sect, with the True Creator outranking the Primordial Demoness. It also curbed the sect's boldness, giving the Aurora Order leverage in talks.
Next, "welcoming Klein" showcased the Aurora Order's harmonious, familial culture and care for its Favored. Not informing Klein unless asked reflected Adrian's trust and vigilance, showcasing his piety to the Lord and a leader's necessary caution.
—Truly worthy of a Favored!
"No rush, proceed with normal cooperation," Adrian smiled. "When the Great Smog nears, we'll betray them, saving Backlund's trapped souls to swell our Lord's flock. I 'suspect' the Demoness Sect collaborates with Loen's military—otherwise, they wouldn't dare send a mere Sequence 4 to Backlund for a blatant ritual."
"I see, Your Excellency," Mr. Z smirked. "These false gods treat commoners as nothing; our Lord, ever merciful, loves humanity…"
As Mr. Z spoke, Adrian sat in the carriage, heading to the Aurora Order's base. The Demoness Sect had gifted him a surprising opportunity. He'd worried Trissy's absence might alter their disaster plan, but they seemed to both value and dismiss her.
They valued Trissy as a vessel for the Primordial Demoness's descent but deemed her expendable for this operation. Any witch could outshine Trissy in seduction, and with Ince Zangwill's covert arrangements, Prince Edsac was their pawn.
And Trissy—hah, post-Great Smog, the Aurora Order would face orthodox churches' wrath. Could Trissy, bearing divinity, not return to the Demoness Sect then?
Adrian tapped the wooden carriage, a smile curling his lips. This was a chance to aid the True Creator's split, frenzied humanity in descending, using the chaos to send the Hidden Sage beyond the barrier.
Multiple gods might descend to thwart the True Creator, weakening their cosmic watch, perhaps letting Outer Gods slip power through.
Then it'd be up to the True Creator to seize a Southern Continent descent. Unlike tightly controlled Loen, the Southern Continent hosted every manner of chaos; one more True Creator wouldn't matter. Shedding excessive frenzied humanity, the True Creator could balance humanity and divinity, stabilizing externally.
With the Chained God already eroded by the Mother Tree of Desire, a grand Outer God melee wouldn't hurt.
Pondering, Adrian reached the kitchen. Glancing afar, he saw Klein exit Backlund Technical University, beaming, a leather briefcase likely holding contracts and documents.
Klein's interview went well. Adrian considered celebrating with skewers and dumplings. He summoned the Hidden Sage, fresh from delivering his letter, to relay to Klein:
"Food's ready; bring some beer."
…
Klein hurried back, lugging a small keg. With a new job, his wallet fattened, affording quality ale—Southwell beer, not the artificial ginger beer he and Benson once drank.
Entering, Klein saw skewers and dumplings casually arrayed before Adrian, his mood lifting. The food's aroma evoked pre-transmigration nights—post-work snacks and beer at roadside stalls.
I need to stay fit, but my training's intense, so I can eat this for calories… Klein justified, sitting beside Adrian.
"How'd the interview go?" Adrian handed Klein a skewer of fried pork belly. Klein, now out of his suit, took it, grinning. "I passed. Good thing I had university interview experience, or it wouldn't have been so smooth!"
"Really?" Adrian bit into his skewer, downing some beer. "Lucky this world's interviews don't test advanced math. I doubt you'd recall that."
"Ugh, Old Adrian, don't bring up sad topics," Klein sighed, chugging beer. "I start teaching next week. I told the principal I'm unavailable all Monday to avoid our Tarot Club meetings."
"Last Tarot Club was skipped; members likely have piled-up issues. This one might run long, so that's wise," Adrian said, setting down his skewer and picking up a dumpling. "You've got tomorrow to rest. I'll have Mr. Z tweak your prosthetic for smoother movement, maybe add some cool features…"
"Oh, right, Old Adrian, your pathway's Scholar? Does that mean your sequence excels at learning?" Klein asked curiously. "I saw Reader pathway in Aurora Order records. What's the difference?"
"Of course there's a difference," Adrian sighed, wiping a pair of chopsticks and handing them to Klein. Klein took them, noting they were blue glass, faintly pulsing with spirituality.
"A Beyonder item?" Klein puzzled—why infuse chopsticks with spirituality? Even wealth shouldn't waste characteristics like this.
"Just a ritual spell fixed inside," Adrian shook his head, wryly explaining. "You know I used a cheat like yours to create a god persona, with devotees worshipping it."
"Yeah," Klein nodded, confused.
"Try eating with them."
Adrian pointed to the dumplings. Skeptically, Klein picked one up and ate it. His brow furrowed as illusory subtitles appeared:
Floating text, like knowledge to be studied.
"A Favored offered this to me," Adrian sighed. "He hated not reading while eating, so he invented book-inscribed chopsticks. He's a Scholar, eager to share this with his students."
Klein: "…He deserves to rot."
As they talked, a knock sounded.
Mr. Z entered, bowing. "Favored Adrian, Favored Klein, I have matters for Adrian."
"Speak," Adrian nodded.
"Yes," Mr. Z paused, nodding. "The Demoness Sect's Nightingale of Despair is here, requesting you discuss cooperation."
"Got it," Adrian stood, addressing Klein. "Keep eating; stay here. I'll be back."
(End of Chapter)