1140 Plans (1/2)

Backlund, East Borough, 7 Pinster Street-

After a busy day, Leonard finally had the chance to ask his questions:

”Old man, what is Sefirah Castle?”

The slightly-aged voice in his mind fell silent for a few seconds. He chuckled and said, ”The place where you meet every Monday is most likely Sefirah Castle.”

Leonard never expected to hear such an answer. His mind went blank for a moment. He was surprised, shocked, and confused, mixed together with the thoughts of it being impossible for to pop out of nowhere and the poignant feelings of how complicated things were.

After a while, he pressed in a low voice, ”What kind of place is Sefirah Castle?”

As though sighing and laughing self-deprecatingly, Pallez Zoroast said, ”Actually, I'm not too sure. I've only heard some rumors.

”It's different from the creation myth you know. Rumor has it that the original Creator left behind nine different entities. They were kingdoms, cities, rivers, oceans, and keys. Sefirah Castle was one of them.

”It might not actually be a castle, but something else. As for what its exact form is, you might know it better than me.

”The reason why I'm certain of its existence is because I sensed it when I became an angel, but I was unable to see it and establish a connection with it.

”My great-grandfather mentioned a theory that the nine entities might have something to do with the sefirot of the second Blasphemy slate. Unfortunately, because of various reasons, 'He' was unable to decipher the details related to the sefirot.”

Leonard calmed down. Leaning back against the sofa, he asked thoughtfully, ”Old Man, do you suspect that Mr. Fool is the embodiment of sefirot?”

Based on what he had seen and heard from the Tarot Club and Old Man's occasional lecture, he had a certain understanding of matters regarding the deities.

After a long silence, Pallez Zoroast replied, ”Perhaps...”

Under the strict curfew at night, there were almost no pedestrians on the streets of Backlund. Occasionally, there would be carriages passing by, carrying people of status.

After arriving at the agreed-upon house, Klein wasn't in a hurry to enter. He half-closed his eyes, raised his right hand, and grabbed at something in front of him. He pulled out another Sherlock Moriarty wearing a black double-breasted frock coat and a silk half top hat while holding a gold-inlaid cane.

This was the image of him from the Historical Void when he left his residence earlier.

As Klein was right in front of him, this image appeared stiff, like a prop on-stage.

According to his previous experiments, Klein knew that this was the mysticism principle of ”a unique shared consciousness in time.” To put it simply, everyone was essentially unique. If one's true body remained sentient, the projection wouldn't remain sentient.

It was the same when summoning projections of the deceased from the Historical Void, a result Klein suspected to be attributed to his insufficient level. In short, his projections could only engage in more mechanical and instinctive battles. Something that was unknown to the Scholars of Yore had prevented them from giving a corresponding answer even if they experienced it for themselves.

This confirmed one of Klein's guesses. Those fragments a Scholar of Yore could see in the historical fog was something he had learned in real life and had studied. Simply put, the fog needed a Scholar of Yore to light it up, bit by bit.

Of course, Klein also suspected that if the historical fragments of the same matter had been mostly lit up, the rest would very likely be presented naturally.

At least the corresponding ability won't be lost just because I don't understand it well enough. As long as there's a projection in the Historical Void, that state will be a complete snapshot... That's enough... Klein looked at the projection that could only act on instinct. His body suddenly vanished and entered the grayish-white fog.

Since Hounds of Fulgrim, who weren't full Scholars of Yore, could live in the Historical Void, there was no reason that a true Scholar of Yore couldn't. The only problem was that there was a time limit. In addition, if time dragged on, the marionettes in the real world would definitely die. However, this was only changing the form of companionship it had with a Scholar of Yore.

As Klein's body entered the grayish-white fog, his consciousness suddenly came alive in the projection.

He raised his hand and pressed down on his top hat. Wearing the face of Sherlock Moretti, he came outside of the house. Following their agreement, he took out the Master Key and placed it against the door, turning it gently.

His figure appeared in the room, and under the crimson moonlight, he quickly surveyed his surroundings.

The sofas, cupboards, high-back chairs, coffee tables, and other furniture were evidently old. They seemed to come from the previous century.

In the dark environment, in a gothic regal dress and a matching bonnet, Sharron suddenly appeared on a high-back chair.

”Good evening,” this Puppet lady nodded slightly and greeted him.

If she hadn't spoken, she would be a classic and most exquisite doll.

At the same time, Marie, who was wearing a white shirt and black vest, also phased into existence on the sofa.

...Sir, it's already winter. Aren't you cold wearing just this? Ah right, you're ”dead,” one who isn't afraid of the cold... After lampooning inwardly, Klein took off his hat and bowed at the blonde, blue-eyed, pale-faced Sharron.

”Good evening, Miss Sharron.”

He then turned around and said to Marie, ”Good evening.”

To this Wraith who was formerly a Zombie, the deepest impression Klein had of him was his card game with the zombies he controlled.

We should play cards when we have the time... He sighed silently.

The reason why he suddenly thought of playing cards was because he had previously analyzed the combat styles of Scholar of Yore, and he realized that if he were to encounter Zaratul, both sides would very likely end up playing a card game.