Chapter 895 — Finally At Ease

Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

Leonard’s expression froze for a moment before he composed himself.

He had already remembered that Dwayne Dantès was working with the military and was preparing to sell a batch of firearms and cannons to West Balam.

Therefore, even though it was surprising to see this gentleman appear on a military airship, it wasn’t jarring in any way.

The only issue is why he’s heading to West Balam so quickly? Amon’s arrival has also exerted some pressure on him? Leonard’s mind raced as he leveled his gaze and walked up the gangway with his teammates to the midsection and entered a huge lounge reserved for them.

Not long after the Red Gloves took their seats, a deep hum sounded. The rotating of the propeller and all kinds of frictional sounds were heard. It caused the floorboards and walls to gently shake.

As the tremors increased in intensity, it turned into a wobbling motion as the airship rose up and slowly regained its stability.

Klein had already sat down and buckled his seatbelt. He was looking at his surroundings out of curiosity as he experienced a different form of flight.

“The takeoff isn’t too stable. The altitude is also rather low, but without encountering any hurricanes, the tremors are still alright. I wonder how it was done...” Klein looked diagonally at the windows ahead without any intention of unbuckling his seatbelt or walking around.

This wasn’t acrophobia even if he had a mild fear of heights. This was because he was briefly wearing Creeping Hunger and had the ability of Short-distance Flight and Teleport. He was only seriously acting like a Desi tycoon who was riding on an airship for the first time.

At this moment, Klein’s spiritual perception was triggered. He hurriedly clicked his teeth and activated Spirit Vision.

He saw the colors around him saturate as they clearly stacked upon one another. He saw bones spew out from the floor, gushing out like a fountain in midair, forming a giant skeleton that was nearly four meters tall.

This skeleton’s eye sockets were burning with dark flames. Its arms were hanging down, holding a folded letter.

Mr. Azik’s messenger... He has finally recovered from his state of metamorphosis? Klein was pleasantly surprised as he tried to stand up to receive the letter.

But when he felt a force pulling him back at his abdomen, he recalled that had his seatbelt buckled.

When he reached out to unbuckle it, the skeleton messenger crouched down and stuffed the letter into his hands.

Klein was taken aback as he looked up into the eye sockets which were burning with pitch-black flames. He nodded gently as form of gratitude.

He could understand why the messenger didn’t appear from the section below, allowing half his body to tear through the floorboard, as this was a military airship. Apart from the Red Gloves, there were probably other Beyonders. They also had spiritual perceptions and different levels of Spirit Vision. They could also barely sense the messenger’s existence.

But I don’t think that delivering a letter in such a crouched manner is being polite... I’d rather it did what it used to... Klein mumbled and saw the skeleton messenger crumble into illusory bones, gushing down like a waterfall.

In the huge lounge, Daly Simone, who still enjoyed being called a Spirit Medium, suddenly turned her head and looked at the room across the hall.

Her brows furrowed slightly as her eyes narrowed.

Daly immediately retracted her gaze and said to the low-ranking officer in the corner of the lounge who was acting as a waiter, “Make me a cocktail. Black Rand and champagne. Half each.”

“That’s a very strange mixture, Ma’am.” As the officer unbuckled his seatbelt, he walked to the bar that was welded to the ground as he attempted to offer a suggestion.

Daly with her blue eyeshadow and blush said with a smile, “I enjoy unique tastes.”

Upon saying that, she casually asked, “Is there anyone else on this airship besides the military officers and us?”

The officer answered while opening the bar’s cabinet, “Yes.”

“A merchant. Apparently, his name is Dwayne Dantès. He is working with the Ministry of Defense.”

Dwayne Dantès... Daly was taken aback as she turned her eyes slightly away and asked, “What kind of work?”

To her right, Leonard Mitchell had subconsciously changed his seating posture. He switched from crossing his right leg over his left to his left over his right.

“I’m not sure,” the officer answered with a shake of the head. “Apparently it has something to do with using the gentleman’s experience in the Southern Continent.”

“Southern Continent...” Daly repeated the word in thought and stopped asking.

...

In the small lounge opposite, Klein had already unfolded the letter to read it seriously.

It was indeed from Azik Eggers. He indicated that his previous experiences had allowed him to retrieve more of his memories. He had no choice but to sleep to digest and recover; thus, the late reply.

Klein truly relaxed as he cast his gaze towards the end in a good mood.

In regards to the Spirit World Plunderers, Azik’s description was:

“...It’s a rather scheming and rare creature. They are very good at disguises, making it very difficult to find them... One thing to make use of is their strong aggressiveness. However, they’re also very dangerous. Even with a strength that is close to Sequence 4, one needs to be sufficiently careful; otherwise, one can accidentally end up as its soul avatar...

“Its exact characteristic is... I’m not sure nor am I able to recall where Spirit World Plunderers are most active. I suggest you pray to Aiur Moria. ‘He’ is very friendly to humans and will be willing to answer similar questions while wielding authority in such matters... The ritual’s key is the correct honorific name and symbol...

“Once you have the clues to a Spirit World Plunderer, you can wait a while. I might be able to provide you some help...”

How can I bother you... Klein raised his right hand and pinched the two ends of his mouth.

He then flipped the page and read the final page.

“...Likewise, I will help you seal that glove once again... It’s not that I do not wish to teach you the way to seal it, but it’s unlikely that you can do it. This requires the power of the Underworld, requiring, at the very least, an Undying to do it...

“Alright. I should quickly have some free time. I recall you mentioning about Death’s ring...”

Mr. Azik’s changes don’t seem too significant. At least I can’t tell from the letter... Klein slowly exhaled as he flicked his wrist and ignited the paper in his hand, turning it to ashes before it floated into the trash can that was welded to the floor.

Although he didn’t receive the whereabouts of Spirit World Plunderers from Azik, he could also determine that this descendant of Death similarly didn’t remember Calderón City. He also guessed that this mysterious spirit world city likely had nothing to do with the Underworld; otherwise, Mr. Azik, who had already restored connections with the Underworld, should’ve recalled something about it. Even so, Klein still planned on replying to ask more about Calderón City.

Regardless, one should always have hope... Also, I should inform Mr. Azik that I’m in the Southern Continent... Klein seriously considered the contents of his reply.

However, he didn’t immediately write it, afraid that the act of summoning the messenger would be noticed via the spiritual perception of the other Beyonders on board the airship.

As he turned his gaze, Klein looked out the window once again. It was dark and silent.

...

Looking at the dark sky with the concealed crimson moon, Admiral of Stars Cattleya retracted her gaze, picked up her pen, and deliberated over her words.

“The answer is neither.”

She was originally somewhat perplexed as to why Queen Mystic hadn’t directly asked what “home” was. Instead, she had attached two guesses. This made it easy for the question to receive an ineffective answer. But on second thought, she believed that Queen Mystic had thought it through in a way far better than she could’ve.

This was because this question was posed to a secret existence that was suspected to be an ancient god. As the number of diary pages she could provide had numbered about twenty, with each attempt giving her an answer; therefore, just three pages, even if they were of high value, made it difficult to be equivalent in value to a key question of where Emperor Roselle’s mental and spiritual home was. The secrets concealed within might even be more important than a single Card of Blasphemy.

And Her Majesty’s question seems stubborn. She doesn’t seem willing to switch to something else; therefore, she specially added two choices, hoping that she could obtain an answer via elimination or directly obtain confirmation. In contrast, this lowers the value of the question. It then abides by the principle of equivalent exchange... As Cattleya thought, she recalled something.

Back then, she was still young and was being educated on all kinds of information. Queen Mystic would test her and tell her that in regards to answering a question, there were three opportunities for reducing the difficulty. First, was to eliminate a wrong option. Second, was to request the help of some specific person on the ship. Three, was to pray to one of the Seven Lights to receive the answer. Of course, the prerequisite to doing that was to complete the ritual herself.

Clearly, Queen Mystic had chosen to use the first method to reduce the difficulty.

Did Her Majesty have such an experience when she was little? After eliminating the two wrong options, I wonder how close she is to the real answer... Cattleya’s expression unnaturally softened as she wrote:

“According to the intelligence I’ve gathered, there’s a storm brewing in Backlund. I wish you well.”

She didn’t directly mention the deputy director of MI9 or the royal family’s consultant. After all, they were news shared between the Tarot Club. It wasn’t something she had asked herself and tacitly acquiesced by Mr. Fool to inform Queen Mystic directly.

Folding the letter, Cattleya summoned Queen Mystic Bernadette’s messenger.

...

Behrens Harbor. It was twilight.

Danitz and Anderson found a hotel opened by an Intis immigrant, finally experiencing the convenience of not having any language barriers.

After putting down their luggage, Danitz immediately headed towards the staircase wearing a cloak and his boxing glove.

Anderson leaned against the opposite door and asked in amusement, “Is there anything else?”

Danitz immediately gave a sarcastic chortle.

“I’m heading out to buy a dictionary!

“This is way more reliable than your body language. In a few days, I might even be fluent in a few common words!”

Anderson stroked his chin with his left black-gloved hand.

“Your boxing glove was created from that giant’s remains, right? What are its negative effects?”

Danitz blurted out, “Being rash, often acting before thinking...”

As he spoke, he fell silent.