Chapter 1392: Yesterday No More

In a room beside the Evernight cathedral in the Southern Continent, East

Balam, Leonard's consciousness returned to the real world.

After a few seconds of silence, he picked up the cup of coffee that had

turned cold and took a sip.

The bitter taste filled his mouth, gradually waking his mind up.

"Old Man, what happened today?" Finally, Leonard couldn't help but ask.

After a moment of silence, Pallez Zoroast replied wistfully, *"Error has

perished."*

Error... Leonard almost didn't realize which existence Old Man

was referring to.

In the next second, he couldn't hide his astonishment as he nearly

forgot to whisper, "Amon?"

This was a standard true god!

"Yes." Pallez Zoroast's voice sounded like "He" had aged

considerably. "To be precise, Amon's main body perished."

Leonard wasn't in the mood to distinguish the subtle meaning behind Old

Man's words. He asked in disbelief, "W-why was there no sign of it?"

He had witnessed the phenomena before and after the God of Combat died.

He knew that it was a change that would affect the entire world and

bring about many terrifying monsters and dangerous regions.

And just now, the only two abnormalities were:

The doors and windows suddenly closing, and him seemingly forgetting

something.

In reality, the latter wasn't strange at all. Most people would

encounter something similar during their daily lives.

Pallez Zoroast's tone sank.

"'He' should've perished in Sefirah Castle."

Sefirah Castle? Leonard was shocked.

The venue of the gathering he had just attended was inside Sefirah

Castle!

*A war between gods has just erupted there? Amon actually infiltrated

Sefirah Castle?* Amidst Leonard's thoughts, his expression

gradually turned solemn.

"Old Man, Mr. Fool was injured because of this and had no choice but to

enter a state of slumber?"

"Is 'He' about to enter a state of slumber?" Pallez Zoroast

asked in return.

"He" didn't seem to be too surprised about this.

Leonard tersely acknowledged.

"The reason 'He' summoned us today was because of this matter."

Pallez Zoroast fell silent for a few seconds before saying,

*"'His' choice to enter a state of slumber is indeed related to the

previous battle of gods and Amon's infiltration, but it's not because of

injuries, but because of corruption."*

"Corruption?" Leonard blurted out in surprise.

*Even at Mr. Fool's level, irreversible corruption can still be

encountered by "Him?"*

Pallez Zoroast regained "His" previous poignant tone:

*"Everything has godhood. By relying on godhood to become a powerhouse,

one can never escape the shackles of godhood.*

*"On this point, it's the same for you and me. Likewise for The Fool.

Heh, perhaps 'He' shouldn't be called 'The Fool' anymore. 'He' is

equivalent to half a 'Lord of the Mysteries.'"*

Lord of the Mysteries... Regarding the problem of the mental

imprint in a Beyonder characteristic, Leonard indeed had a deeper

understanding of it than demigods at his level. However, he still had

several holes in the knowledge on this matter. Even though he had heard

Old Man mention the term "Lord of the Mysteries," he didn't understand

what it meant.

However, at present, he could confirm that Mr. Fool's level had

transcended Sequence 0 according to Mr. Fool's words during the

gathering, and what Old Man had just said, "His" strength was enough to

kill a true god.

Leonard cleverly didn't probe further. He changed the topic in a deep

voice:

"Old Man, why is Klein sleeping as well?

"Are you able to wake him up as soon as possible?"

Pallez Zoroast's tone was somewhat odd.

*"How could an old and weak angel like me know about matters at the

level of gods?*

*"As for the awakening, even The Fool has no better solution, much less

me?"*

Leonard remained silent for a moment. He picked up his coffee cup and

took another sip.

After a while, he asked hesitantly, "Old Man, do you have any way of

'Stealing' the artistic flair of others?"

Pallez Zoroast scoffed.

*"The definition of artistic flair is vague with no clear

categorization. There's no way to 'Steal' it.*

"However, if you change it to natural talent, there's a way."

"...Forget it." Leonard ultimately couldn't do anything about "Stealing"

the natural talent of others to help him resolve his problem.

Pallez Zoroast added with a smile, *"If you can't accept this method,

then you can find a natural talent that you want of someone who's very

poor. Make a deal with him and give him the money he wants to exchange

for the corresponding natural talent."*

"It's a little like a deal with the devil..." Leonard commented

objectively.

Pallez Zoroast chuckled and said, *"There's another simple solution.

That is to spend money to hire naturally talented people to help you

resolve the corresponding problems."*

"...Old Man, why didn't you say so earlier?" Leonard instantly saw hope.

Pallez Zoroast scoffed.

"You didn't manage to think of something that simple?

*"I thought you had eliminated this option before consulting

me."*

Leonard ignored Old Man's mockery. After some serious thought, he felt

that this idea was indeed feasible.

However, he soon felt a little guilty and uneasy, as if he was avoiding

his responsibility.

*Regarding this matter, I still have to do something personally... Apart

from inviting someone to write songs and poems, I have to write a

little...* With this in mind, Leonard suddenly stood up and

walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" Pallez Zoroast asked in surprise.

Leonard frowned slightly as he said firmly, "I'm going to the nearby

bookstore to buy some poem anthologies."

Ever since he advanced to Nightmare, he had given up the collection of

poems he had bought in the past, making most of them nothing but

decorations. When he became a Spirit Warlock, he began to collect poem

anthologies that were suitable for some spirits to read, allowing him to

chant the appropriate parts in a battle to create Beyonder effects that

worked in concert with him.

Therefore, when he came to the Southern Continent, he didn't bring a

single poem anthology book. He only remembered a few of those that he

often used in the past.

*I never expected that, after becoming a high-ranking deacon, I would

need to read poem anthologies again...* Leonard sighed inwardly

as his steps became firmer.

Pallez Zoroast had never imagined that Leonard's next step would be to

buy poem anthologies. After a while, "He" probed, *"Is this an order

from The Fool?"*

"Yes, for promoting the corresponding legendary stories," Leonard

answered simply as he opened the door and walked out.

Pallez Zoroast fell silent once again before saying, *"Apart from

writing poems, you have to pay more attention to the besiegement of the

Rose School of Thought."*

Leonard walked down the stairs and entered the streets. He looked at the

pedestrians and nodded gently.

"Yes."

At that moment, as he walked towards the bookstore, he felt as though he

had returned to Tingen, back to the time when he was still a Midnight

Poet. At that time, he had also walked along the bustling streets,

preparing to buy a copy of "Classical Poems Anthology of the Loen

Kingdom" and "Selected Poems of Roselle."

Backlund, at the Harvest Church south of the Bridge.

After Emlyn White regained his senses, he found himself standing in

front of a window.

The sun was already dim outside, and the flowers were flourishing.

His feelings towards Mr. Fool's slumber were slightly different from the

other Tarot Club members.

Other than heaviness, poignancy, sadness, and confusion, there was also

the confidence that things would end well.

Internally within the Sanguine, some of the Marquises and Earls were

rather old. Even though they lived longer than most demigods at the same

level, they were still in advanced stages of their lives. At this time,

they often chose to sleep and use similar methods to extend their

lifespans. The effects were pretty good.

Therefore, Emlyn had long been accustomed to matters regarding slumbers.

He knew that it wasn't equivalent to passing away, nor was it equivalent

to perishing. He believed that if the correct solution was found, Mr.

Fool would have a high chance of waking up.

He looked out the window and muttered to himself, "Mr. Fool has entered

a state of slumber, and the Ancestor's revelation is often interfered

with. It's obvious that 'She' can't provide help frequently..."

After a brief silence, Emlyn sighed silently.

Indeed. In the end, I have to face it myself and bear it.

This is the destiny of the messiah.

At the mention of the word "messiah," Emlyn clearly smiled with a

self-deprecating hint.

He then repeated inwardly, I can only rely on myself.

Just as this thought flashed through his mind, Father Utravsky's voice

sounded behind Emlyn.

"Time to set off."

Emlyn turned his head and saw a huge sword on the back of the priest

dressed in brown priest robes.

The sword's length exceeded Emlyn's height, and its width was close to

his waist.

Together with Father Utravsky's hill-like body, the terrifying pressure

felt corporeal.

As a Sanguine Earl, Emlyn recovered from his stifled feeling and nodded

gently.

"Okay."

Today, they would head to the Southern Continent to participate in the

besiegement of the Rose School of Thought.

Just as he replied, Emlyn suddenly recalled something and hurriedly

said, "Wait for half a day."

He wanted to gather most of the Sanguine in Backlund to discuss the

pharmaceutical company.

Bishop Utravsky didn't ask anything and nodded.

"Come find me when you're ready."

After watching Father Utravsky enter the depths of the cathedral, Emlyn

turned his head to the Sanguine that were following him to the Southern

Continent.

"Inform all the Sanguine in Backlund to come over. There's something we

need to discuss."

"Yes, Lord Earl," the Sanguine replied respectfully.

After they split up, Emlyn turned his head to look at the altar and the

Sacred Emblem of Life in front of the cathedral. It was a simply drawn

infant that was surrounded by symbols like wheat, flowers, spring water,

and other symbols.

This made Emlyn's thoughts suddenly turn adrift.

He had forgotten when he started spending less time in his bedroom,

spending less time with his dolls. Even his hobby of studying history

became more targeted and efficient.

This change didn't take form in an instant. Instead, it was slowly

formed over time. It was something that made it difficult for others to

notice. By the time Emlyn discovered it, he had already adapted to this

new life.

Emlyn retracted his gaze, raised his chin slightly, and shook his head

with a smile.

This is the destiny of the messiah...