Night fell quietly.
Edward had drawn the curtains early and stayed inside his home.
Tonight was a Crimson Full Moon, the first one he had encountered since embarking on the Apprentice Pathway.
He had already informed the Mr. Fool ahead of time—if he were to once again hear whispers and show signs of losing control, he would immediately seek the Fool's protection.
Thick clouds drifted apart, and the moonlight spilled through, gradually deepening in hue—becoming richer and redder.
Seated upright on a chair, Edward suddenly furrowed his brows, tension creeping into his expression.
He heard it.
Mr. Door's whisper.
"Don't save me…Don't save me…"
"Don't save me…Don't save me…"
"Don't save me…Don't save me…"
The voice ebbed and flowed—sometimes clear, sometimes distant, sometimes accompanied by piercing screeches.
But this time, Edward felt no pain, nor did he show any signs of losing control. He merely heard Mr. Door's hoarse, desperate pleas repeated again and again.
Even though he was suffering in exile and corruption, Mr. Door still cried out with all his might—"Don't save me"—to prevent bringing disaster and calamity to the world.
For that, he had even sacrificed nearly the entire Abraham family.
Aside from Klein's kindness, the character Edward admired the most in the Lord of the Mysteries would be Mr. Door, Bethel Abraham, for his greatness.
Unfortunately, Mr. Door had been corrupted by a Great Old One and could only be rescued by an existence of that level. But the easiest way to achieve a Great Old One (or a Pillar) status on earth is to become the Lord of Mysteries.
But, the birth of the Lord of Mysteries…would mean the death of Mr. Door.
It was a paradox with no way out.
Huh? I remember that under the influence of the Mother Goddess of Depravity's corruption, Mr. Door used to cry "Save me!"
Why is it that, every time I've heard him lately, it's only been "Don't save me"?
Could it be that each time I happened to hear him, he was momentarily in a state of clarity?
Just as that thought crossed Edward's mind, Lilith ran in from the living room.
She held a dead bird in her mouth, dropped it in front of Edward, then nudged it forward with her paw, tilting her head at him.
"Meow~ ( >口< )"
"…Thanks, but I don't eat birds."
Lilith immediately adopted a serious expression, stared at him for a long moment, then picked up the bird and trotted away.
Moments later, the sound of crunching and tearing echoed from the living room.
"Even though eating mice, birds, and bugs is in a cat's nature…I still can't quite accept it," Edward muttered. "Weren't you already used to eating canned cat food? It's not even been two weeks since we arrived in this world—how did you regress so quickly?"
He pondered for a moment but found no answer.
Instead, he pulled out the materials for the Assassin potion, along with a cauldron, test tubes, and other tools, and began to prepare the potion.
He added each ingredient one by one, stirring slowly. The contents of the cauldron gradually turned into a dark, shadowy liquid speckled with starlight, giving off a pungent odor.
"Lilith!"
Lilith scurried back, her tiny steps light and swift. There was still a trace of crimson at the corner of her mouth—likely left over from her recent meal.
"Meow?"
Edward poured the potion in the test tube into her food bowl.
"!!"
Without hesitation, Lilith turned and bolted.
Thankfully, Edward had prepared in advance—he grabbed her by the scruff and lifted her up.
Her four legs flailed helplessly in the air.
"There, there~ If you drink this, not only will you get smarter, you might even turn into a catgirl."
"Meow…"
She remained unmoved, turning her head away in protest.
Edward brought the food bowl closer to her nose.
"Come on, it actually tastes really good! Really! Just give it a lick, Lilith."
"Meow…"
She instantly turned her head the other way.
"Liliiiith~~"
Thus began a prolonged tug-of-war between man and cat, lasting more than ten minutes.
In the end, it was only after Edward built a small mountain of fish treats on the floor as compensation that Lilith finally, and very reluctantly, drank the potion from the bowl—though, as usual, she managed to get it all over her face.
Then came a long wait.
Having drunk the potion, Lilith seemed as if she had merely sipped a glass of plain water—no reaction whatsoever. She even yawned.
"Does this mean Lilith has great innate talent? That her affinity with the Assassin potion is extremely high? Or something else entirely? Either way, she doesn't seem to have lost control."
Edward rubbed her head.
"Alright, go play."
Lilith twisted her body and darted into the living room like a black shadow. Then she lowered her head, stretched out her front paws, raised her hindquarters, and let out a long, satisfied stretch.
———
[Backlund, Cherwood Borough]
Left alone in her room, Fors suddenly raised both hands and clutched her head.
She bit down hard on her blanket, suppressing a scream, and rolled back and forth on the bed as she resisted the phantom whispers echoing in her mind.
Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Veins bulged along the backs of her hands. Her body alternated between going rigid and convulsing. Her pale blue eyes were filled with pain.
"No…" Fors finally couldn't endure it any longer and let out a low, agonized groan.
She abruptly turned her head toward the folded piece of paper on the nightstand. Trembling, she reached out—trying several times before finally managing to grasp and unfold it. A few lines of Hermes met her eyes:
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;
The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog;
The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."
Fors's pupils shrank. She immediately understood that this three-line prayer referred to an unknown deity.
But she had no time to think further. Gritting her teeth, she began to recite with difficulty:
"The Fool…that doesn't belong…to this era.
The mysterious…ruler above…the gray fog…"
Just as she was about to utter the third line, all the pain vanished in an instant.
She remained curled up in the corner of her bed, her body still twisted in torment, gasping weakly for breath.
"Was…was that the end of the whispers this time?"
Fors struggled to sit upright, her gaze drifting to the curtain half-drawn across the window. Through the gap, she saw the dreamlike crimson full moon hanging in the sky.
The brief sense of relief faded as her expression shifted drastically.
Looking at the now-crumpled prayer slip in her hand, she muttered nervously, "I only read the first two lines…I probably…maybe…hopefully didn't draw that being's attention…"
———
[No. 2 Daffodil Street]
Klein was chatting with Benson and Melissa about the flyers that had mysteriously fallen from the sky that afternoon when suddenly, a layered, illusory whisper echoed in his ears.
Is someone praying to me?
A thought flashed through Klein's mind. He apologized to his siblings, saying, "Excuse me, I need to use the washroom for a moment."
He quickly entered the washroom and locked the door behind him.
Taking four steps counterclockwise, he ascended above the gray fog.
At the edge of the ancient, mottled bronze table, beside the seat of The Fool, gentle ripples of light radiated outward.
Klein instinctively extended his spirituality, touching the light in a posture of answering the prayer.
The scene before his eyes shifted abruptly: a blurred room, a messy bed, and a woman curled up on it, wearing a high-collared dress with loosely curled brown hair draped over her shoulders.
She held a crumpled slip of paper in her hands, glancing around anxiously and murmuring,
"I only read the first two lines…I probably…maybe…hopefully didn't draw that being's attention…"
Too late, woman. You already have.
Klein couldn't help but comment inwardly, leaning back in his seat as he considered the origin of the paper in her hands.
Was it from Miss Justice?
He had to admit, he was quite satisfied with Miss Justice's reverence for Mr. Fool and her dedication to the Tarot Club…though sometimes, she was a little too enthusiastic.
"Well…it'll be fine for now."
———
The September night no longer carried the heat of summer. A chill had begun to creep in—just right for sleeping.
Especially after a long day, Edward had fallen into a deep sleep early.
Lilith was curled into a tight ball beside his pillow, burying her eyes into her fluffy fur to shield herself from the crimson moonlight.
Suddenly, Lilith jolted upright.
She tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, her ears twitching at high frequency. Her long tail swayed anxiously.
"Meow!!"
She turned and bit Edward's ear—hard.No hesitation. She bit so deep that a few drops of blood welled up instantly, yanking Edward out of his sleep with pain.
He sat bolt upright, yanking the dangling Lilith off his ear with one hand.
"Lilith, what the hell are you doing?!"
"Meowww!!!!"
Lilith's pupils narrowed into vertical slits as she let out another sharp cry.
A second later, Edward's entire spirituality surged violently, all of it screaming one message:
Danger! Danger! Run! RUN!
He didn't hesitate. Scooping up Lilith, he grabbed the leather pouch by the bed.
The moment his fingers touched his wand, his figure twisted and disappeared.
BOOM!!
A blazing, flaming meteor tore through the sky, streaking across Tingen and lighting up half the city in its descent.
A red flash lit the heavens for a brief moment. The deafening roar that followed shook the night.
Standing hundreds of meters away, Edward watched in horror as Houses No. 4, 5, and 6 on Tulip Street were instantly reduced to rubble under the impact of a massive fireball.
The powerful shockwaves radiated outward in all directions, violently shaking the surroundings.
Flickering firelight reflected in Edward's eyes. The chill piercing his bones made his body tremble slightly.
So close…I was just one moment away from being crushed in my sleep by a falling meteor…
It was Ince Zangwill!
He had written that meteor down with his quill.
This was retaliation—payback for the flyers Edward had scattered earlier that day.
———
[Note]: We didn't reach our powerstone goal. What a shame...But, if we reach 210 Stones by tomorrow, I'll give you guys the Extra Chapter!