In an apartment in Cherwood Borough.
Fors Wall sat cross-legged on the living room sofa. She was unable to make it back to her two-bedroom place in St. George Borough because of the heavy rain earlier. She chewed on a new type of bread stuffed with meat and vegetables, letting down her hair as she thought over the plot of her next detective novel.
Xio was out doing Arbiter duty and would not return tonight.
Suddenly, she frowned and threw away the food and pen in her hands.
The clouds in the sky had cleared an hour ago. The crimson moonlight outside the window grew stronger, and the look on Fors's face became more and more painful. Just like Mr. Fool had said, from now on she would hear ravings every full moon.
The voices were trying to drive her mad.
She fell off the couch. Her body writhed as she struggled against the floor. After a while, she pulled out a clump of her own hair. The physical pain did nothing to ease the explosive sensation in her head, and it did not calm the overwhelming urge to end her life with a knife right then and there.
Fors muttered in agony as her legs stretched taut from the violent spasms.
She tumbled around violently and toppled the coffee table. The books resting on top swept onto the ground. Unable to endure it any further, Fors frantically used her nails to scratch the wooden leg of the coffee table. She created one deep scratch after another along with jarring screeching sounds.
Her fingernails broke. Her hair started growing abnormally long.
At that exact moment, she felt absolute certainty. She was going to lose control tonight and become a monster.
'I am going to die... I am going to die...'
As she writhed and rolled about, her mind became incredibly blurry from the endless murmuring. The pain was so intense that she nearly forgot the honorific name of Mr. Fool. She struggled to piece her thoughts together through the madness. Using every last ounce of her strength, she opened her mouth and began to whisper.
"The Fool that does not belong to this era...
"The mysterious ruler above the gray fog...
"The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck...
"Save me. Save me..."
Fors felt her head muddling. Her thoughts felt exactly like boiling water. They bubbled constantly in a frantic bid to break free from the restraints of her head.
'Am I dying? I don't want to. I don't want to become a monster.'
Just as she woefully thought this, the pain flooded over her like a massive tidal wave.
Then, suddenly, she was wide awake. The pain, the irritation, the madness, and the despair she had felt so deeply in her bones simply vanished. It felt as though all of the agony was just an illusion.
Confused, Fors opened the eyes she had unconsciously closed. She found an endless grayish-white fog completely surrounding her. Right in front of her sat an ancient, mottled bronze table.
At the very end of the long table sat a mysterious figure. 'He' wore a black trench coat with a yellow underlined hood pulled low over his face. Like usual, when Fors looked closely, she saw nothing but swirling gray fog beneath the hood.
"Th-Thank you... Mr. Fool," she stammered.
Mr. Fool seemingly smiled from beneath his hood and replied, "You are welcome. Did you do as I asked?"
"Yes. I sent him a letter explaining my situation." She had already sent a telegram to the person named Dorian Gray Abraham, and she was anxiously waiting for his answer.
At the back of her mind, she had secretly wished that she would be fine and that Mr. Fool was just mistaken about her condition. But the terrifying screams in her ears and the madness in her mind dashed that foolish hope really quickly.
"You can return in a few minutes," Mr. Fool told her.
Fors swallowed hard and asked, "You mentioned a terrible curse before. What was that curse that made the angel try to hurt their own descendants? Do you know how to solve this problem once and for all?"
Mr. Fool was silent for a moment before answering. "This knowledge is too dangerous for you. Just remember this. The angel, called Mr. Door, might not necessarily want to hurt you. Perhaps, he is just asking for your help."
"Asking for my help? But those ravings push me closer and closer to losing control. If you had not helped me, I might have become a monster by now," Fors replied incredulously.
Mr. Fool grinned and said, "That is because you are too weak."
"I am too weak?" Fors was stunned and at a loss.
Mr. Fool briefly explained, "The difference in your life's natural order and his is too great. Perhaps, just by breathing normally, the storm brought about by him can rip you to pieces. Perhaps, just a glance from him will cause you to die on the spot.
"Of course, if he purposely controls his own strength, he could communicate normally with you. However, his voice might need to pass through layers of obstructions in order to reach your ears. Deliberate control typically implies a failure to call for help. Heh heh, that is if we assume he is calling for help."
'The difference in our life's natural order is too great. I would die from just one glance from him...' Fors was completely stunned by what she heard. After quite some time, she forced a smile and said, "This reminds me of a saying. Do not look directly at God..."
Fors then asked, "Is there any other way to deal with these ravings?"
"Indeed there is," Mr. Fool answered. "There is only one way to solve your problem, and that is to raise your life's natural order."
"Thank you so much!" After confirming this matter, she finally relaxed a lot. The lingering tension left her body. She looked around and noticed that there were still many empty seats arranged around the long bronze table.
Curiosity got the better of her. She looked back at the mysterious entity and asked probingly, "Mr. Fool, I was meaning to ask. What did Sherlock mean by a 'gathering' previously?"
Mr. Fool smiled and said with a casual attitude, "There are a few people who are similar to you. I pulled them here for various reasons.
"They hope that I can hold a gathering at regular intervals to facilitate the trade of formulas, ingredients, information, and missions.
"I agreed to it."
Fors felt enticed by what she heard, she boldly asked, "Does... Does Sherlock attend that as well?"
She could feel an air of amusement coming from him that made her feel oddly embarrassed, but she could not tell why.
"Indeed he does," Mr. Fool replied.
Thinking that she was already a part of this secret gathering, she asked, "Mr. Fool, can I join this gathering?"
"Sure. Three in the afternoon on Mondays. Remove all disturbances." Mr. Fool smiled and pointed at the deck of cards that suddenly appeared on the surface of the long bronze table. "They decided to use the names of tarot cards as their code names. You can pick one of these, but some already belong to the others and you cannot choose them."
Fors nodded her head. She shuffled the cards and cut them with great interest while mumbling softly, "Let fate arrange my title..."
Soon, she took one of the tarot cards from the deck and read it out loud.
"The Magician."
"Well, from now on your code name will be The Magician. Welcome to the gathering."
Fors gulped nervously. "Thank you."
"Now, sit here and enjoy the atmosphere."
Fors nodded. Her mind swirled with countless thoughts and questions, but she knew it was not the right time to ask them. Her eyes focused on the swirling gray fog and its hypnotic rhythm. She did not feel any time pass before the gray world vanished completely, and she returned to her apartment.
When Fors sat up and examined herself, she saw that there was nothing unusual about her body except that her hair had grown much longer and denser.
'My life is completely different from before. I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.'
Silently mumbling to herself, Fors sat on the ground and hugged her knees. She remained deeply lost in thought. Her mind wandered off, and she cycled through feeling anxious, sad, and entirely confused about her new reality.
Earl Hall Villa, Empress Borough, Backlund.
Aguesid Negan sat comfortably on the cushioned wrought iron chair. He looked around the pristine gazebo of the Hall family manor. A variety of desserts and a warm cup of tea rested on the table in front of him.
In front of them was a Backlund Daily newspaper. The front page featured a bold article about Intis Ambassador Bakarland's sudden suicide.
The important member of the Conservative Party, who currently served as the Prime Minister of the Cabinet, looked like he had aged considerably. His tall, thin figure leaned forward as if he was unable to bear the bad news. He needed to prop himself up on the table with both hands just to stay steady. Still, his eyes remained sharp and his attitude completely calm.
Earl Hall sat opposite him. The Earl had lost the handsome appearance of his youth due to deep smile lines and the fattening state of his body. He took a sip of his tea and set the cup back on its saucer.
"His Grace is already dead, compared to crying and being angry, we need to be more careful and calm. Only by doing this can we handle the aftermath and prevent this heavy steam train of the Kingdom from derailing."
Aguesid nodded slowly in agreement. He let out a sigh and said, "This is exactly why I came to you immediately. The other nobles will only call upon their gods, trembling in fear, and express how unacceptable this is. They will want the mastermind found. From their point of view, if even the heavily protected Duke could be assassinated, then they are next." Prime Minister Aguesid spoke in a heavy voice. "It is a perfectly natural and understandable reaction, but we need a different approach."
Earl Hall nodded and asked, "Who was the other assassin?"
"We identified the dead body on the balcony. We have sufficient evidence to believe he was a sequence 5 true Devil. By the way, your Varvat Bank just acquired his business," Aguesid said. His tone remained perfectly flat.
"Patrick Jason?" Earl Hall immediately remembered the man's name. He was the one who had approved the bank's acquisition. He frowned and asked, "Did you find any evidence of who killed the assassins?"
"No," Aguesid replied. "But we can make a compelling guess. The ones who killed the assassins were just tying up loose ends, since both Vice Admiral Qilangos and Patrick Jason's spirit body were destroyed or taken away."
Earl Hall took a sip of his tea and asked, "What is His Majesty's attitude regarding this?"
"Grief, but no specific thoughts," Aguesid replied.
Earl Hall frowned and thought for a moment. "In that case, finding the mastermind behind the scenes matters less than figuring out their end goal. If they want war or want to restart the conflict in the colonies, then we need to tell the masses that the Feysac Empire instigated Patrick Jason and the death of the Intis Ambassador. We will fabricate a detailed process and provide seemingly convincing evidence. In the past several centuries, this northern neighbor of ours has always played a similar role. Everyone is already used to it. I doubt anyone will question it. It is very normal for the barbarians to do this sort of thing."
"And the masses will be afraid of them." Prime Minister Aguesid curled the corners of his lips, completely lacking a real smile. "We can also use the pervert's death to pull Intis to our side if a war really breaks out."
A moment of silence passed as Aguesid was seemingly in deep thought, "We shall use them as a target. We will publish the results of the investigation and officially accuse the Feysac Empire of instigating the situation in Backlund. I believe no one will care to defend the northern barbarians."
Without another word, Aguesid stood up. "I am going to meet His Majesty now." He paused and looked at Earl Hall. "You have to be careful about your safety too. We still haven't figured out the motives of the people who assassinated my brother's family. Humph, the Church of Storms has already agreed to replace the archbishop of the Backlund diocese. Snake is always late at crucial moments! The believers of the Storm are always irritable, irascible, stubborn, conceited, and easily maneuvered by others!"
"Don't be prejudiced. For example, Leumi is very intelligent." Earl Hall let out a low laugh, and then he tapped his chest four times. "Thank you. The Goddess will protect me."
...
At the top of the balcony overlooking the garden, Audrey sat quietly as she sipped her tea. She wore a light blue ruffled morning dress with a fitted waist and a delicate lace neckline. It was a comfortable and simple outfit meant for a relaxing afternoon at the manor.
At her feet, Susie the golden retriever lay quietly on the floorboards.
Audrey had clear visibility of both men talking in the gazebo below. From her spot, she could easily read their lips and understand everything they were discussing.
They did not know she had a conversation with the killer of the Devil.
After the older gentleman vanished into thin air, Audrey hurriedly returned to her mother at the back of the mansion. When they asked where she was, she could only say she went to the washroom to clean off the food that had fallen on her.
All of them had to spend that night in Duke Negan's mansion. Everyone was interrogated by MI9 and the Church of Storms to see if anyone was infected by the devil. They didn't find anything on Audrey and her family eventually let them leave.
She let out a soft sigh and looked down at the golden retriever. Dwayne had told her to make the dog a Beyonder. The thought still felt absurd, yet she could not dismiss the advice of someone so strong.
'I have to prepare for today's gathering,' she reminded herself as she gently rubbed her temples. 'I have so many things I need to ask Mr. Fool about.'
She took another sip of her tea. But as she watched the conversation between her father and the Prime Minister.
Only one question remained heavily on her mind.
'Is there going to be a war?'
City of Silver.
The Berg household stood along a mottled stone road in the City of Silver. It was a rugged settlement of stone and wood that had survived the eternal darkness of the Forsaken Land of the Gods for over two thousand years.
Inside, Derrick occupied a cramped room with a single bed. His window offered a view of the outside, where frequent flashes of lightning served as the only natural light, constantly plunging his room between sudden brilliance and deep shadows.
Outside, hair-like weeds swayed in the cracked city walls, and the distant voices of residents praying and seeking forgiveness often drifted in from the streets.
Derrick was sitting on his bed. For the last few days, he was being educated in general knowledge and practical courses such as Devil Studies, Monster Classification, Charms, and Beyonder Foundations.
His mind involuntarily drifted back to his time in the Spire last week.
...
When Derrick regained consciousness, he found himself lying on the stone floor outside his room in the metal-lit corridor. The warmth in his chest had already faded.
'What exactly happened to me?' he wondered. He stood up and rubbed his chest where the intense heat had just bloomed.
At that moment, a voice spoke from inside the room.
"It was close..."
Derrick tilted his head blankly and looked inside. He saw a tall, muscular figure in dark trousers and a brown coat.
The man's hair was grizzled and unkempt. He had deep wrinkles on his cheeks, but the corners of his eyes were smooth. Old, twisted scars marked his face. He wore a flaxen shirt with a checkered leather belt. His pale blue eyes looked deep and weathered, like a book full of heavy stories.
Derrick froze for a second. Then, as if he had just survived a lifetime of danger, he opened his mouth in pleasant surprise.
"Your Excellency!"
Standing right in front of him was the Chief of the City of Silver's six-member council. He was a powerful Demon Hunter who was over a hundred years old. Colin Iliad.
Derrick gulped and looked around, "What just happened?"
Colin let out a sigh and started to explain. "We always knew the former captain had a problem. We intentionally did not eliminate him directly to find out what kind of ulterior motives the man named Amon had. We locked him at the bottom of the spire and sealed him under the influence of mystical items. We frequently let Beyonders with symptoms of losing control live next to him to induce abnormal changes. We wanted to learn the information he hid.
"Unfortunately, he remained very normal until today. Way too normal."
Colin looked around the room once more. "What was that light that extinguished him?"
Hearing his questions only one logical answer came to Derrick's mind, "Mr. Fool, the one I made a deal with to save my parents must have protected me!"
Derrick continued on his mind, 'He knew I was under surveillance. He must have planted that light inside me during the gathering to keep me safe. I owe him far more than just a favor for my parents now.'
At that name, Colin frowned slightly before his face returned to a neutral expression. "I see. But why do you think the prisoner suddenly mutated and attempted to break through the seal?"
Derrick stayed silent for a few seconds. "Maybe... maybe it was a reaction to my summons!"
"What do you mean?"
"I was pulled into his Divine Kingdom once more."
Derrick then explained the concept of the Tarot Club to Colin. Since the powerful being had specifically mentioned that hiding his existence didn't matter, Derrick held nothing back.
"I think the other people I met there are from the outside world," Derrick said with sudden enthusiasm. "Chief, we can certainly say that people outside the City of Silver still live."
"If... if we get their help, we can find a way to leave this place."
Colin looked at him impassively. Derrick could not decipher what the Chief was thinking. The older man sighed. His eyes suddenly flashed with two complex, dark green symbols that reflected Derrick's figure.
After nearly ten seconds of silence, the City of Silver's Chief closed his eyes. "You don't show any side effects for now. You don't need to be kept captive for others' safety, so you can go back. Your parents are fully cured and we cannot find anything wrong with them. They are being let go as well."
Derrick was startled. A wide, happy smile broke across his face. "Alright!"
He started to walk out of the Spire when he heard the Chief's voice once more.
"Wait."
Derrick stopped and turned around. Colin looked at him with a serious expression.
"Do not spread any news of your connection to Mr. Fool to anyone outside of the Six-Member Council. It is for your own safety."
Derrick blinked and then nodded.
...
Back in the present, Derrick sat on his bed and thought about everything that happened. After leaving the Spire, he met with his fully cured parents and returned home with them.
The next day, he went back to his friends from general education classes and the combat training field. He resumed his normal routine like nothing had ever happened.
But a lot of questions remained on his mind.
'What was that feeling in my chest?' he wondered. 'Is it a light of the sun? It feels warm and comfortable.'
The people of the City of Silver were only accustomed to the faint light of dawn granted by the powers of the Giant pathway. But this feeling was different. It did not fade away like the dawn. It felt like the inextinguishable light of the sun.
'Is that the power of the omniscient and omnipotent God? The Creator?' Derrick thought. 'Is Mr. Fool somehow connected to the Creator?'
He had so many questions he wanted to ask Mr. Fool. He could not wait for the next Tarot gathering. If his calculations of the lightning storms were correct, today was the day the gathering would happen.
"Derrick, lunch is ready."
His reminiscing was broken by his mother's voice calling from the living room.
An involuntary small smile appeared on his face.
"Coming," he replied. He stood up and walked out of the room to eat the lunch his mother had made
AN: An interlude chapter showing the Tarot Club members processing the aftermath of the events they went through. The next Tarot Club chapter is going to be pretty long.
Anyway, I wrote this whole thing with a fever, so there might be some mistakes I missed. Point them out and I'll fix them.
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There is already TWO chapter ahead available on pat-reon, your support would truly mean a lot to me.
Pat-reon: /DmonLord