Taken individually, these abilities might not have much destructive power and might even seem a bit underwhelming.
But when combined with his penchant for strategic planning and the unreasonable Sefirah power of the "chaos theater," the resulting effects would undoubtedly grow exponentially.
"Trickster"—this was much more fun than "Trickmaster."
These abilities greatly enhanced his planning and interference methods, allowing Nairn to deconstruct order and acquire "play value" in a more artistic and theatrical manner.
It perfectly aligned with his desires.
Nairn smiled with satisfaction, picked up his teacup, and took a gentle sip.
Just then, there was a soft knock on the door, and Triss returned.
There was a faint, almost imperceptible trace of excitement in her expression.
"My Lord, Sir Derville just gave his reply," she reported. "The Sir is very honored that you are willing to handle this matter personally, and he is deeply impressed by your foresight regarding Foundation affairs."
"Oh? What else did he say?" Nairn set down his teacup and asked with interest.
"He said that to show his support for the Foundation's future development and to express his gratitude, he has decided to inject another ten thousand gold pounds into the Foundation."
Triss's voice was steady, but Nairn could hear the ripples beneath that steadiness.
Ten thousand gold pounds was no small sum.
It seemed the Sir was determined to deeply bind himself to Nairn.
"Also," Triss continued, "he sincerely invites you to dinner tonight, hoping to have a more in-depth exchange with you. And—he specifically mentioned that you may bring anyone you consider close to you, or anyone you wish to introduce to him."
Nairn's eyebrow twitched.
In a relatively conservative and class-conscious society like the Kingdom of Loen, for a noble to invite an "expert" to dinner and allow them to bring "close associates" was more than just an expression of goodwill; it was a gesture akin to accepting the other person into one's social circle.
Sir Derville was truly determined to tie himself to Nairn's chariot.
However, who was tying whom remained to be seen.
"He also said," Triss's tone paused, seeming a bit hesitant, "that your assistant (or maid)—meaning me—received high praise. He said my beauty is not inferior even when compared to Madam Sharon."
Madam Sharon?
The identity represented by that name immediately surfaced in Nairn's mind—Tingen City's most famous socialite.
He looked at Triss and saw her head slightly lowered, her expression somewhat complex.
Nairn guessed what she was thinking almost instantly.
For a "Good Demoness" who had just escaped the twisted doctrines of the Demoness Sect and viewed Nairn as her sole faith and reliance, her first reaction to this kind of "praise" probably wasn't humiliation, but rather—an opportunity to be utilized.
Was she thinking that if Sir Derville was interested in her, she could—Sacrifice herself, using this most primitive and effective method to firmly tether this powerful figure to her Lord's chariot?
Triss took a step forward and knelt on one knee before Nairn.
"My Lord," her voice carried a sacrificial fervor, "Sir Derville is a pivotal figure in Tingen City. If we can firmly grasp him in our hands, it will be a immense help to your plans."
Nairn watched her quietly without speaking.
"I heard—Sir Derville is unmarried and lacks a close companion." Triss's breathing was a bit hurried, but her eyes were exceptionally determined. "If—if the Lord needs it, Triss is willing—willing to use any means to tether him. Just like Madam Sharon."
"My body and soul both belong to you, My Lord. As long as it can pave the way for you, I am willing to do anything."
After she finished speaking, she lowered her head deeply, as if waiting for a final judgment.
The air became very quiet for a moment.
Nairn looked at the girl kneeling before him, a feeling he couldn't quite describe in his heart.
He knew Triss was sincere.
Having broken free from the twisted environment of the Demoness Sect and been subdued by his absolute power and methods of both kindness and authority, she already viewed him as her sole deity, her only faith.
For the sake of a god's will, she would not hesitate to offer everything, including her body, dignity, and life.
This kind of loyalty was fanatical to a frightening degree.
But—
"Raise your head, Triss," Nairn spoke slowly, enunciating every word.
Triss's body trembled, and she obediently raised her head, her eyes filled with a trace of confusion and unease.
"Do you think I need to use a woman's body to trade for the support of a noble?" Nairn's voice was calm, but beneath that calmness lay an unquestionable majesty.
Triss's face instantly turned pale.
"My Lord, I didn't mean—"
"You are mine," Nairn interrupted her. "I am the one who fished you out of the Abyss. Your value is not to be used to please a mortal noble."
He stood up, walked to Triss, and looked down at her.
"I have seen your contributions all along. Your insights while handling those poor people in the slums, your inspiration for Klein to think about the deeper meaning behind it—you have done very well."
Nairn's tone softened slightly.
"I thought you had already found a new self. How could you still produce such—thoughts of regarding yourself as a tool and a Sacrifice?"
He reached out and gently tilted Triss's chin up.
"A 'well-trained' Good Demoness, a future Demigod, or perhaps even higher. Do you think your future is merely to be a noble's mistress?"
Triss's eyes instantly turned red, tears welling within them.
She wasn't upset because she was being scolded, but because of the undisguised value and expectation in Nairn's words.
So—in the Lord's eyes, she was actually such a valuable Existence?
Not a chess piece that could be sacrificed at any time, but a—person—with a bright future?
"Put away those unnecessary thoughts. Sir Derville, I will make him serve me willingly; there is no need to use such methods."
Triss's body trembled slightly, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something.
"Do you think your value is only this much?" Nairn's tone grew a bit heavier. "Then you underestimate yourself too much, and you underestimate me as well."
He stood up, walked before Triss, and looked directly into her eyes.
"Have you forgotten what you did in the East Borough? Have you forgotten what you saw in those desperate people? Those things are far more precious than a mere physical shell."
"I—" Triss's eyes were slightly red.
"Get up." Nairn withdrew his hand. "On my chessboard, things haven't degenerated to the point where I need to Sacrifice a Queen to take a Bishop."
He turned and walked back to the sofa, sitting down again, his tone returning to that composed manner of one who controls everything.
"Your value is far more than this. I have a more important stage where I need you to appear."
Triss stood up, her head still lowered, but her entire state had completely changed.
The determined tragedy from before had vanished, replaced by an excitement after being redeemed and a sense of uncertainty about the future.
A more important stage?
She looked at Nairn with some confusion.
Nairn looked at her, feeling it was time to let her touch upon the tip of the iceberg of his grand plan.
One person's strength is ultimately limited; to stir up large enough waves in this mad world, one needs a sufficiently powerful organization.
And Triss, after this period of observation and cultivation, had proven her loyalty and ability, enough to become one of the early core members of this organization.
"I am preparing to establish an organization, a behind-the-scenes organization dedicated to fundamentally changing this world."
Nairn's voice wasn't loud, but it was filled with unquestionable power. "Its name is 'The Days Gone By United Group.'"
"The Days Gone By?" Triss murmured to herself.
"This is a behind-the-scenes organization I created, dedicated to 'correcting' the erroneous trajectory of this world." Nairn's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a sense of weight as if he were narrating history.
"Fixing the world?" Triss's heart skipped a beat.
"Yes." Nairn leaned back on the sofa, legs crossed in a relaxed posture, yet his words were enough to make any Beyonder feel suffocated. "This world is sick. From deities to mortals, from order to chaos, it is filled with decay and festering sores. And we are going to find the root of the disease and then—excavate it."
His gaze fell upon Triss, as if he could see right through her soul.
"This organization is divided into three tiers."
"The core and highest tier is called 'The Past'. Its members are responsible for tracing the origins of history and exploring the deepest secrets of the world. The contents of 'The Past' are the organization's highest secrets; for now, you have no need to know them."
Triss held her breath. She could feel that she was coming into contact with an unprecedented, massive secret capable of overturning all her perceptions.
"The second tier is called 'Remaining Embers'," Nairn continued. "The members of 'Remaining Embers' are the initiators of change."
"They walk between Darkness and light, serving as the sparks that ignite the pyres of the old era and the bastions that guard the sprouts of the new. Under my guidance, they will pry at the Foundations of nations, change social structures, and become the invisible hand pushing the wheels of history forward."
Prying at the Foundations of nations, changing social structures—
Triss's head was buzzing. She had never imagined someone could utter such a rebellious declaration in such a calm tone.
This was no longer a simple struggle between Beyonders; this was—becoming an enemy of the entire world!
"And the outermost layer, which is also the Foundation of the organization, is called 'Rebirth'."
Nairn's tone softened slightly.
"Members of 'Rebirth' are the executors. They provide sanctuary for the poor, bring solace to victims, and light a lamp called 'Hope' for the desperate. The 'Mercy Ending' you performed in East Borough, as well as the 'Anti-Fraud Mutual Aid Foundation' we are currently promoting, both fall under the scope of 'Rebirth'."
After hearing about these three tiers, Triss was completely shocked.
From the grandest historical explorations to the most concrete grassroots assistance, this organization called 'The Days Gone By United Group' had constructed a complete and rigorous pyramid.
It possessed both a grand blueprint overlooking all living beings and a down-to-earth program of execution.
This—this was the power truly capable of changing the world!
The conspiracies of the Demoness Sect, carried out for desire and madness, simply could not compare.
"Triss," Nairn looked at her and said slowly, "with your ability, loyalty, and your performance in the slums during this period, you have proven yourself."
"Now, I officially invite you to become a member of 'Remaining Embers'. You will no longer be a simple executor, but a regional person-in-charge with the power of independent judgment and action. You will become part of this organization's true management."
Management—Person-in-charge—
These words hammered against Triss's heart, making her feel dizzy for a moment.
She thought of her sordid past, that history of struggling to survive in a twisted family;
She thought of the various cruel methods she had been forced to learn in the Demoness Sect just to stay alive;
She thought of how, not long ago, she had been thinking of using her body to trade for a noble's favor.
And now, Lord Thousand Faces, that god-like Existence, was telling her that she could become a manager of an organization capable of changing the world.
This immense contrast gave her an unreal, dreamlike feeling.
"I—can I?" Her voice carried a hint of a tremble.
"I trust my own judgment," Nairn's answer was simple and powerful.
How could a "reformed" Good Demoness, a Beyonder who had found her own path, go back to doing things like binding others through seduction?
Triss could no longer control her emotions, and tears burst from her eyes.
She knelt on one knee again, but this time, it wasn't out of fear or Sacrifice, but from the heart—the purest gratitude and oath.
"I, Triss, am willing to burn to ash for 'Remaining Embers', and I will never fail your expectations!"
"I will not forget the tragic state of the people in the slums, nor the souls who died in despair!"
She looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks, but her eyes were brighter than ever before.
"Lord Thousand Faces, I think—I understand."
"Oh?"
"I was born into a twisted family, full of Lies and exploitation. I thought that was the whole world."
In that oppressive environment, the shadow of the Demoness Sect's interference was likely everywhere. They twisted love and humanity, making her live within a giant Lie since childhood.
"But my personal suffering is actually just a microcosm of this diseased society. When I connect this suffering with the millions of families in East Borough struggling on the line of death, I realize they are common."
"True Demonesses perhaps shouldn't be Conspirers who toy with people's hearts, nor disasters that spread suffering."
"They—should become the blades that end suffering, the Gravediggers who bury the decay of the old era."
"This is what a 'Demoness' should bring—not simple disaster, but—the labor pains of change!"
"To nurture hope through despair. To trade an ending for a new life. This, perhaps, is the role I should play."
Nairn looked at her, a satisfied smile appearing on his face.
From this moment on, Triss had truly completed her transformation.
She was no longer a tool passively accepting orders, but a true 'comrade' with thoughts, awareness, and her own 'Tao'.
Nairn stood up, walked over to Triss, and personally helped her up.
This gesture made Triss feel overwhelmed by the favor.
In The Past, while Nairn wasn't harsh to her, he always maintained a distance between superior and subordinate.
But now, this supportive gesture carried a sense of equality and recognition.
"Very good." Nairn looked into her eyes, his tone appreciative. "That you could realize this means you haven't failed my expectations."
The courtesy between a lord and a subject was quietly established at this moment.
He no longer viewed Triss as merely a useful subordinate, but as a partner who could hold her own and push the cause forward together.
"Remember what you said today." Nairn patted her shoulder. "The path of 'Remaining Embers' is destined to be uneven. You will see more Darkness and face more powerful enemies. But as long as the flame in your heart is not extinguished, you will never lose your way."
"Yes, I understand." Triss nodded vigorously, carving every word of Nairn's into her heart.
"In the future, within the organization or in private, you don't have to call me 'Lord' or 'Master' anymore," Nairn said after a moment's thought.
"Then—how should I address you?" Triss was a bit at a loss.
Nairn pondered for a moment; he needed a codename that reflected his identity without being too distant.
"Call me 'Mr. Thousand Faces', then," he finally decided.
'thousand faces' represented his Pathway and also hinted at his ever-changing identities and unpredictable style.
"Yes, Lord—" Triss responded subconsciously, then realized she had used the wrong address again, a flash of embarrassment crossing her face.
Nairn looked at her cautious appearance and couldn't help but laugh.
"Mischievous." He lightly tapped her forehead with his knuckle. "Don't do that again."
This intimate gesture caused Triss's cheeks to instantly flush crimson, and her heart skipped a beat.
She lowered her head and whispered, "Yes—"
Yes, Lord.
She added silently and sweetly in her heart.
But aloud, she used a brand-new tone of respect and equality, obediently correcting herself: "Understood, Mr. Thousand Faces."