Calderon City...
Wandering through the jungle of bookshelves, Klein, whose stature appears short in comparison to his surroundings, is like a dwarf who has accidentally stumbled into a land of giants. Every time he searches, he has to hold his lantern to its limit in order to barely see the specially marked list on the highest shelf.
With Taylor Franz's help, he successfully unearthed many valuable secrets from "Admiral" Ludwell's memories, including those strange words that both he and Taylor couldn't understand, and could only hope to find the answer in the archipelago branch's archives.
Calderon, a place name obtained from Ludwell's mind, is highly likely to be related to the "corpse collector" route, so the initial search area was significantly narrowed.
But when Klein spent several hours, from noon until evening, until the clock in the underground stronghold rang, and still had no clue, he finally realized how difficult the quest he was trying to find was.
Ludwell's position in the Cult of Souls was not high, but it was certainly not low either. It was higher than most of the members, only lower than the absolute core members who held real power in the larger factions of the Cult of Souls.
Spiritual questioning is an art.
Klein was not a professional psychic, and Taylor Franz could not read Ludwell's spirit like Azik did, as if it were a well-documented book.
They can only discover things by carefully considering the questions and answers, one by one, which is inefficient and prone to oversights due to incomplete knowledge.
The term Calderon was one of the limited responses they received when they asked about the key nodes in the "artificial death" program.
If it weren't for the fact that most of the other answers listed alongside it were quite valuable, and that Colonel Taylor's review confirmed their potential use, Klein might have simply regarded the name "Calderon" as nothing more than a diversion from his tense life, like the lost cities of Newinus that circulated at sea.
No, there's too much information. At this rate, it'll probably take me another two days to finish reading it, and I still might not find any clues...
Klein put down the heavy, old book with a slightly peeling cover, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes, which were dry from reading for so long.
In fact, Taylor Franz had already compiled the entire process of this psychic encounter into a file and reported it to the higher-level intelligence officer of the Second Empire of Trensost—probably some angel other than Zarathustra—so Klein didn't need to worry about the follow-up matters.
The reason he still wastes time on it is entirely due to his complicated selfish motives.
For some reason, he always felt a sense of familiarity with the word Calderon, as if he had left unforgettable memories there.
Why don't you try asking Tristan and Mr. Azik?
Klein leaned against the tall bookshelf, momentarily undecided.
Neither of them would likely refuse his question, and both would probably give him a definite answer, which would be far more effective than him blindly searching for answers on his own.
Klein thought it was feasible more and more, and immediately took action, taking out the piccolo he always carried with him and the brass whistle that Mr. Azik had given him.
The two items functioned similarly, but gave Klein different feelings.
The piccolo that connects to "Fugen's Dog" doesn't look particularly special from any angle, and its workmanship isn't particularly exquisite either; it's practically an ordinary handicraft.
Mr. Azik's bronze whistle, the moment it came into contact with the air in the library, its originally cool outer shell suddenly became hot, subtly alienating it from the shadowy environment.
The branch's defense mechanism covered the entire underground area. Did the power of the "Three-Headed Sanctuary" make the Bronze Sentinel feel threatened? Klein guessed.
He hesitated for a second or two, then decided to write to Tristan first, and as for writing to Mr. Azik, he could wait until he returned to Earth.
The underground environment and the reaction of the copper whistle made him slightly uneasy.
The piccolo was played, and a soothing breeze flowed in all directions. Whether it was an illusion or not, for a moment, Klein noticed that the shadow imbued with the power of the "Three-Headed Sanctuary" had shrunk back, as if deliberately leaving a sufficiently private space for the breeze stirred up by the piccolo.
Grayish-white mist emerged from nothingness, followed by the forepaw of a beast that existed between reality and illusion. The enormous, bizarrely-looking "Hound of Fortune" stepped lightly into reality.
As soon as the giant monster with two clusters of flames burning on its head appeared, it lowered its body and bowed to Klein.
"Owner."
The giant dog spoke in human language, and Klein, instinctively tense and his body stiff, realized that he was being summoned by the leader of the "Hounds of Fortune," a high-sequence, complete demigod of the "Diviner."
"I have a letter to send."
As he spoke, Klein conjured a slip of paper and a pen, spread the paper on the bookshelf, and wrote down the questions he wanted to ask.
The "Hound of Fortune" stood silently by the gray fog, its burning eyes watching the scene calmly without any impatience.
"Alright, send it to Tristan Eugen. You should be able to reach him, right?"
Klein put away his pen, looked at the giant dog's ferocious front paws, thought for a moment, and then stuffed the note into the giant dog's mouth.
This time, "Fugen's Dog" did not respond to its owner's question immediately.
It first looked at the "letter" that was almost stuffed into its mouth, then glanced at its owner's obvious discomfort, and calmly raised its front paw.
The beast's paw, as large as a normal adult's head, deftly spread its four fingers, using the two middle fingers to expertly grasp the strip of paper. Then, it reached for its other front paw and gently tapped it, instantly transforming the rectangular strip of paper into a ring that tightly wrapped around the giant dog's forelimb. Throughout the entire process, the letter itself remained completely undamaged.
After doing all this, the "dog of Fugen" finally spoke.
"I will pass your letter on to Tristan Eugen, please rest assured."
It answered Klein's question first before moving on to other things.
"Please forgive me for reading your letter without permission, Master."
"If you want to know about Calderon City, I think I can answer your questions."
This was undoubtedly an unexpected surprise for Klein.
"real?"
The "Hound of Fugen" actually knows about Calderon City, and it even sounds quite familiar to him!
However, upon further reflection, he realized that the "Hound of Fortune" was a special spirit creature with intricate connections to the gray mist, making it a follower of the "God of Mysteries." Its own strength was considerable, so it wasn't surprising that it possessed some secrets.
Klein composed himself and used a cough to cover his embarrassment.
"Well, tell me about it."
Fortunately, the "Fugen Dog" did not notice its owner's loss of composure, nor did it feel that there was anything wrong with the discrepancy between its owner and the image it had in mind. It heard its owner's command and then told him everything it knew.
"My esteemed master, Calderon City is located deep within the Spirit Realm. It is an ancient city that existed during the Second Era. It once belonged to the Phoenix Queen, the previous 'Grim Reaper,' and was her earthly divine kingdom."
"It used to be called the 'City of the Dead,' and its inhabitants were few and far between, and now it is entirely composed of the dead."
"Ever since the Phoenix Ancestor, Greta Garley, created the Underworld, Her divine kingdom moved there, and the 'City of the Dead' entering the Spirit World was the last decision She made before being severely damaged and shattered by the Creator."
"The Dogs of Fugen" briefly introduces the significance of Calderon and the history behind it.
Its fiery eyes lowered, and while Klein was processing the information, it added another piece of intelligence.
"You visited that city in the past, during the middle of the Second Age, before the Demon Wolf King Fregra fell and when the Creator was still asleep underground."
"At that time, Calderon was on the ground. In order to expel the 'natural disaster' from your body and end the mental torment caused by the non-adjacent pathways, you took the initiative to enter Calderon, challenge the Phoenix Ancestor Gregory, and succeeded."
"Although you were unable to reclaim the power of the 'Door' that was usurped by Gregory due to the interference of the 'natural disaster' that time, you successfully shed the 'natural disaster' characteristics and restored your purity."
The voice of "Fukgen's Dog" grew softer and softer as it watched Klein's changing expression, and mustered its courage to finish recounting the whole story.
So that's how it is. So that's how the angelic properties of the "Storm" pathway hidden in the Rosed Islands came about... Klein knew that "Hound of Fortune" might have been misled by the aura of the gray mist, confusing his relationship with "God of Mystery" and mistaking the two for one. Therefore, he didn't care that "Hound of Fortune," as his subordinate, talked about the dark history of "Mystery's" past defeats.
He is only interested in the valuable information within the story.
The "God of Mysteries" actually fought with Greta Garley, the progenitor of the Phoenix, something that is not recorded in the holy scriptures.
It's surprising that "Mysterious" is so concerned about his reputation; he doesn't even write about the fights he lost in the holy book... Klein teased his "senior" while digesting more details.
Hmm, the authority of the "gate" should refer to the "apprentice," right? I remember in the myth shared by the "sun," the phoenix progenitor, Gregory, demonstrated abilities related to space...
But how did Greta Garley manage to separate the "Calamity" from the "Mysterious" body?
According to "The Dog of Fortune," "natural disasters" are more of a burden to "mystery." From the perspective of the fundamental laws of the extraordinary, the characteristic of accommodating non-adjacent paths can turn extraordinary beings into madmen and extreme psychopaths. However, "mystery" does not exhibit similar qualities. On the contrary, in the scriptures, His image has always been relatively benevolent, although not as loving as the Creator, and appears somewhat indifferent...
After much thought, Klein still couldn't come up with any plausible guesses.
He glanced at the patiently waiting "Hounds of Fortune," and since he didn't think the Gray Mist vassals, who seemed to be disliked by the "God of Mysteries," would know any more secrets, he stopped dwelling on the topic.
"Go deliver the message, I'm all set here."
...
The appearance of the grayish-white mist lowered the indoor temperature.
On the "Azure Avenger," Evelyn, who was leisurely reading a book, suddenly poked her head out from behind the book. Tristan also withdrew his gaze from the distant sea, resting one hand on the window and turning half of his body towards the direction where gray mist kept appearing out of nowhere. Only Alger, who had just finished his mission and pushed open the door to report, was startled by the sudden change and froze on the spot, not daring to move.
Gray fog... Tristan had a premonition, but his spiritual intuition remained calm. He stretched out his other hand and signaled to Alger to close the door to the captain's cabin.
"I didn't expect it to be you."
The gray fog in the room thinned considerably, finally revealing the giant beast hidden within. The eyes of the "Hound of Fortune" burned like torches, flickering with bright light.
As the behemoth emerged from reality and stretched out its body, Tristan casually leaned against the window frame.
"Tristan Eugen?"
"The Dog of Fortune" glanced at the people in the room and found it strange.
An "ancient scholar" just like it, a mysterious puppet in a peculiar state, a weak but favored "wind-loving" by the Source Castle...
"It's me."
Tristan has recently been working hard to digest the potion containing the "Seer's" pathway within his body, and has made considerable progress, but he still cannot discern any emotion from the face of a canine creature like Antigonus.
In fact, he didn't remember the name of the visitor in front of him, only recognizing the race of the behemoth. Due to the subtle relationship between the "Ancient Scholar" and the "Hound of Fugen", he uttered that pretentious opening remark.
"Are you here to deliver a message?"
The sea breeze ruffled the collar of his shirt and dispersed the remaining mist, allowing Tristan to see clearly that there seemed to be a strip of paper tied around the front paws of the "Hound of Forge," with faint writing on it.
"Yes, faith in the Lord."
The gaping mouth of "The Dog of Forge" opened and closed, and the few words it uttered nearly shattered Tristan's rationality and composure.
Faith in the Lord?
Which high-sequence "diviner" in the world doesn't know that "The Hound of Fortune" is a loyal servant of the "God of Mystery"? Upon hearing this answer, Tristan had no doubts whatsoever and immediately knelt down to pay his respects, a stark contrast to his previous attitude.
Evelyn and Alger had the same reaction as him, but Evelyn performed the same standard knightly salute as Tristan, while Alger prostrated himself, reflexively performing the grand salute that Storm Cultists would use when meeting the Pope.
The sea breeze blew through the open window. "Fugen's Dog," who had just taken down the mail, was not surprised, but seemed to be influenced by the environment and couldn't help but feel that he should do something too.
So it imitated some scenes it had seen while browsing through the mists of history in its spare time, and began to imitate the arrogant attitude of the emperor's attendants during the Solomon Empire. It raised its huge, ferocious front paws high, held the letter in its two paws, and handed it to the "ancient scholar" like itself at a height higher than Tristan's head.
Upon receiving the letter, Tristan was filled with all sorts of speculations. He held his breath, lowered his hands from above his head, and brought the tiny piece of paper to his eyes to examine it carefully.
He quickly realized something was wrong.
This appears to be Klein Moretti's handwriting.