Irina swallowed hard, forcing out a whisper meant only for Klein, warning him not to engage in battle. "Sequence 5 Gravekeeper, Sentinel Pathway."
Klein kept his expression steady, wearing Gehrman Sparrow's cold mask, but inside he couldn't help but worry. This is the first time I've ever heard her sound so distressed... not even in Tingen was she like this. During my death, she only looked sad and angry. But now? She sounds completely different, shaken even. It's my first time hearing her like this.
The golden-haired man turned his gaze upon them, the lantern's glow dancing eerily as he deflected artillery fire from the official Beyonders as though it were nothing. His eyes swept across their group, pausing on no one in particular—that is, until they landed on Irina.
You have got to be shitting me... why is he staring at me?! I don't know how to fight him! Panic thundered inside her chest as she forced her body to remain still, to hide the abnormal beats of her heart.
I've never heard of such a pathway or sequence—what does he even want from me?!
The man's eyes lingered longer than on the others. Only the members of the small group noticed, especially Klein.
Does he know her? No, impossible. She lived at the orphanage and only joined the Nighthawks a month before me. There's no way she could've met someone of this Sequence in Tingen without it being noticed. And after that, she slept for three months. It can't be...
Klein studied the man from head to toe, but gained nothing beyond the creeping drowsiness and chill radiating from that lantern so he looked away from its uncanny glow.
If he doesn't know her personally, then what? Her face might be hidden, but that doesn't make her look particularly suspicious when at sea. Her Beyonder items? Not visible. That leaves only her pathway. Bookworm. Does he have a way to recognize someone's pathway outright?
Before he could think further, the chains lashed out, sweeping wildly across the ground, raising clouds of dust and smoke that swallowed everything. The last thing anyone saw was the man taking two calm steps back before being engulfed by it.
Irina, with her keen hearing, followed his measured footsteps even as the artillery boomed around them. The man retreated step by step, then silence. Nothing.
He simply vanished.
Just like that? HOW?! Her mind reeled, unable to process what had just happened. The chains dissipated along with him, leaving only ruin in their wake.
When the smoke settled, the battlefield was barren of their enemy. Military personnel rushed forward, desperate to question the charred survivors as they had earlier, but this time, no matter what rituals they performed, no answer came. Not even a single word.
Irina dragged her feet as they walked, but Klein quietly matched her pace. He realized she was eavesdropping on the officials despite the distance. For anyone else, it would have been impossible, but not for her.
She even clearly caught the panic in their tones.
A gruff voice snapped in frustration, "What do you mean you can't contact their spirit or soul?"
Another voice, tight with fear, stammered back, "We tried every method! There's nothing to contact, not even a single drop of spirituality is left. It's as if they've been dead for years—no, centuries!"
By then, Captain Elland caught up with the group of three that was already leaving, his usual smile even returned as he addressed them. "We've found the target, the investigation is over, I'll take you back to the hotel first. The remuneration will arrive in two days; also, it's best if you don't go out today."
Though his words were aimed at Gehrman, his gaze flickered repeatedly toward Irina. The image of that man staring at her longer than anyone else clearly weighed on his mind but he decided not to question it.
Klein, maintaining Gehrman Sparrow's detached persona, merely nodded slightly, offering no words.
After they entered the hotel and Elland finally took his leave, Danitz clicked his tongue and muttered as he shut the door, "The Book of Calamity... just by casually taking that book, it drove that woman insane and out of control!"
Klein didn't reply. He simply stood by the window, staring at the sky that darkened by the minute, as though rain might break free at any moment. The heaviness of it made the air itself feel stifling.
That was when he noticed Irina, standing at the threshold of her own room, her eyes fixed on him. Taking the hint, Klein stepped over, closed her door behind him, and raised a spiritual wall for privacy. Irina, without speaking, traced a familiar word in the air with her finger: Alexandria.
He understood immediately. Reciting a quick prayer, Klein's vision shifted, and he once again found himself standing amidst the endless library.
He wasn't the least bit surprised to see Irina there, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the same grayish tome clutched tightly in her arms.
This time, he didn't hesitate. He helped her up, then took a seat on a nearby couch. Irina set the tome—his tome, that he was sure of—on the small table, right beside the bluish volume marked with Alger Wilson's name.
Before Klein could speak, she let out a loud sigh, flopped down on her favorite sofa, and hugged one of its pillows to her chest. "I feel exhausted."
Klein arched an eyebrow. "Must be tiring doing nothing the entire morning while we searched for Leticia and her three companions," he teased lightly, without any real bite, simply hoping to lift her mood.
Irina groaned even louder. "Not her—him!"
"The Sequence 5 Beyonder?" he asked, though he already knew.
"Yes!" she shot back, voice sharp, before slipping back into a tired tone. "I just... well... it was completely unexpected, I guess."
'Unexpected'? Klein's thoughts stirred. Does this mean everything else that's happened so far was something she anticipated? Just as she claimed in Tingen, she has some kind of foresight. But that man wasn't part of it. Which means that he either shouldn't exist at all, or shouldn't have appeared at this point in time.
"So, he's dangerous, you're saying," Klein concluded.
"I don't know! That's the problem." She pressed the pillow tighter to her chest. "I mean, you know how much I know about sequences, potions, abilities, beyonders, all of it—but him? He's new. Completely. I've got zero information about him." Her tone sounded resigned, and it even carried a small amount of unease.
Klein blinked. That's new...
"Not knowing something for once isn't bad," he said gently, trying again to ease the tension. "It just means you have more to learn. That's not inherently a bad thing, you know? Besides, his pathway is relatively new, just like yours, and Adventurer."
Irina's head snapped toward him, her wide eyes filled with sudden intensity.
Klein stared back evenly. "What?"
"...you said 'Adventurer'?" Her voice was faint, almost disbelieving.
Does she not even know the origin of her own pathway? Klein realized.
Calmly, he explained, "Yes. Three pathways appeared roughly fifty years ago: Bookworm, Sentinel, and Adventurer."
Irina's eyes widened further as she slowly sat upright, abandoning the comfort of the sofa. Three whole new pathways—just fifty years ago? And none of this is in the novel. I'm certain of it now. She drew a deep, steadying breath. But what does it mean?
"You really didn't know?" Klein asked, surprised at her reaction.
"Backtrack a bit. Where did you learn this?" she demanded, her voice a little wild.
"Mr. Azik told me not too long ago," Klein replied, careful not to reveal the true reason he'd asked Azik about it, because of her. "He said every ten years, certain Beyonders gain knowledge of those three pathways."
"'Knowledge'?" Irina repeated, frowning.
"Apparently, if you're a Beyonder of any pathway, and are lucky enough, you suddenly receive knowledge of the potion formulas and names for every sequence up to your current one, as well as the names of the next two sequences."
Irina's brows furrowed as she tried to grasp the absurdity of Klein's words.
"So let's say Danitz is one of them," she said slowly. "As a Sequence 7 Pyromaniac, he'd gain knowledge of the potion formula and names for every sequence up to 7, plus the names for 6 and 5?"
"Yes," Klein confirmed with a nod. "I don't remember the exact date, but soon it'll be fifty years since the first time it happened, which means the event will happen again. I remember it being in winter—"
The weight of this knowledge sat heavily in Irina's chest, so wild and staggering she could barely force herself to process it. Her thoughts raced, tumbling over one another until a single, sharper idea rose to the surface.
Wait a second.
"But if it's already an established Beyonder," she murmured aloud, "then they can't make use of the potion... that means they have to sell it—or share it with someone they know..."
Klein simply nodded. "Yes. Almost always behind a Beyonder of one of those three pathways, there's someone else at a higher Sequence."
Irina's breath hitched. This... this doesn't feel right at all... especially at such a high Sequence. What if behind that man who appeared today, there's a demigod? No—there's definitely one behind him... he looked so confident, and he disappeared after just absorbing their spirituality...
"That makes me ask," Klein began, breaking her train of thought, "if you didn't know anything about those three pathways, how did you recognize his?"
"I didn't," Irina replied simply. "I was analyzing his lantern with my spirit vision, and I discovered it's an ability-created item."
"Right," she remembered quickly, straightening as if shaking herself from a fog. "Let me fill you in on its abilities."
Klein inclined his head. "Yes. It did feel extremely dangerous to look at."
"As I said, he's a Sequence 5 Gravekeeper of the Sentinel Pathway. That lantern is one of his abilities." She spoke carefully now, remembering every detail she'd seen when staring at it. "As long as he touches a dead body, he'll immediately absorb both its spirituality and soul, and they'll enter that lantern, greatly boosting his own spirituality permanently."
Klein's eyes widened. "'Permanently'? That's bound to lead to an extreme—if not infinite—amount... I've never heard of such an ability."
"You could say that louder..." Irina mumbled before continuing. "Not only that, but he can do the same with someone who's alive. Though it takes an extreme amount of time. I think that's why we suffered those effects when staring at it."
Klein brought a hand to his chin, deep in thought. "It was as if winter had suddenly come and my body was slowed down. Not drastically, but definitely something dangerous in a fight."
"Haha..." Irina let out a small, humorless laugh. "And that's not all. You remember those wild chains?"
Klein nodded once.
"I couldn't learn much about them. The information given was almost none."
This time it was his turn to look genuinely surprised before his expression turned serious. "Your Spirit Vision has never failed to gain knowledge about any object, no matter the grade of it."
Klein began rapping his fingers lightly against his thigh. "This can only mean one thing. Those chains aren't objects, but living things."
Oh wow, Irina thought in amazement. He really is the protagonist. He immediately understood where I was going with this!
"Yes," she nodded, preparing to continue, but Klein beat her to it.
"Yet they were able to bat away that heavy artillery as if it were nothing, not leaving even a scratch on them. Not only that, but if they count as part of his body, that means he can just touch someone with them and the process of absorption will begin." He analyzed quickly, voice turning even more serious. "The range of those chains was also extremely wide. That's very dangerous."
"Yes. And those are just a couple of his abilities. I wonder how many more he has..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of anything, anything at all, but nothing came. Irina had always relied on the novel to plan, to predict, to think of everything.
But now, faced with something new, her brain felt like it was short-circuiting. I've relied far too much on the novel. Forget the other two pathways I knew nothing about—how could I not imagine I'd encounter someone from my own pathway? The chances aren't high, but everything is possible...
"I know one of their abilities," Klein said suddenly, his tone calm.
"Huh...?" How? And which?"
"When in Backlund, I was searching for a method to remove corruption from a characteristic," Klein began. "I was told to search for a Beyonder of the Bard or Sentinel Pathway."
What? That doesn't make any sense! Irina's head snapped up. "Wait a second. You're telling me they have such sinister powers, and on top of that, they can purify too? These two powers don't align at all!" she exclaimed, her voice puzzled. "Just what is the end goal of that pathway..." She finished mumbling, but Klein still heard her.
"End goal?" he repeated, brows furrowing.
"Its Sequence 0. Every pathway has authority over something, but it can't be purification nor death since both already belong to Sun and Death respectively." Irina frowned harder, muttering to herself. "Sentinel... its job is to keep guard, look out for something or someone... that just makes me more confused. Just where does that pathway go?"
Both of them fell into silence, so immersed in their thoughts and analyses that the infinite library seemed to stretch even wider around them.
Now that I think about it... Irina's thoughts turned inward. What does Equilibrium even mean? What is my own pathway's end goal? Up until now I've had slight improvements in my body, but only an out-of-the-ordinary hearing. I can analyze items and immediately find out information about them. I also have an extremely high protection from corruption and higher-level knowledge, saving me from losing control. And now I can even create spells from what I learn...
For the rest of the day, the group followed Elland's advice and remained in the inn, never setting foot outside again.
Bayam City, however, did not rest. From time to time, the sharp crack of gunfire and the distant thunder of explosions echoed through the streets. The sounds continued until the sky turned dark.
Two days later, the matter with Kalvetua was resolved, just as the novel described. Yet this time, Irina forced herself to pay closer attention—examining every detail, every nuance, searching for any deviation. And still, nothing had changed.
That only unsettled her further. Who was that sequence 5? Which faction does he belong to? Who is backing him up? One of the Seven Orthodox Churches, or...?
Dwelling on those questions would be useless. She had no power over divination, and to try to search for this exact piece of knowledge in Alexandria would be like searching through the entire cosmos for a single speck of dust. Simply impossible.
I really need to figure out that search function at all costs... this is ridiculous. I have such a great Sefirot at hand and I can't even use it! She grumbled inwardly while Captain Elland went on, cheerfully talking about how Danitz's bounty was sure to increase.
Earlier, Irina had calmly pocketed the money Klein handed her when dividing the reward for their mission.
Elland and Danitz had both looked confused, with the latter even bordering on offended. His expression practically shouted: 'Dogshit! She did nothing and still gets paid more than me?! On what criteria are you dividing the money, Gehrman?!'
Irina ignored the looks, fading into the background as the conversation ran its course. Eventually, Elland took his leave altogether.
Not long after, Klein and Irina left as well, though in different directions, Klein in search of a suitable identity to impersonate to further digest his potion, while Irina went to retrieve the custom orders she had placed days earlier, the ones Danitz had so begrudgingly paid for.
When she returned, a wide smile hidden beneath her familiar blue scarf, she didn't announce herself immediately. Instead, she lingered quietly, curious about what Danitz might be up to, only to find her senses blocked by a spiritual wall.
What a shame... I guess I'll just enter then.
With her arms loaden with bags and boxes—weighing nothing thanks to a small spell she had cast—Irina pushed open the door, effortlessly shattering the wall of spirituality, and strode toward her room.
Danitz nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't expected either of the two lunatics to return so soon, but after turning and seeing who it was, he let out a sigh of relief.
At least it's the girlfriend and not the madman... it's not like she'll even understand what I'm doing!
Then his hand twitched, writing out a new line on the paper before him: "The wall was broken. Has Gehrman returned?"
Danitz opened his mouth, but hesitated. If I were to talk to thin air that would surely make me look insane—
But then a sharp slam of a door rang out in the room. He looked up just to not see Elena anywhere, having most likely disappeared into her room without sparing him a glance.
Crazy, the both of them, he cursed silently.
Still, he continued his conversation with his captain, whispering now, hoping Elena wouldn't overhear. The ritual was nearly complete anyway, and the missing wall no longer mattered.
"No, it's Elena," he murmured. "She must have picked up the orders we placed a couple of days ago."
His hand wasted no time in writing: "'We'?"
"W-well, Gehrman told me to go with her, and as a gentleman of course I paid for her clothes!" Danitz stammered. Dogshit! She forced me to! She even asked how much I had and complained when it wasn't enough!
He thought the subject had ended there, but instead, Edwina's neat handwriting carried the matter forward: "What else can you tell me about her?"
Danitz stared at the words, confused. What else was there to say? Still, he reluctantly began explaining. "The lun—man makes her tag along everywhere he goes most of the time. The more dangerous the situation, the more likely he is to bring her along as well. She's also not a Beyonder, from what I can conclude, and she's in an open relationship with Gehrman—"
A quiet sound made him freeze, his gaze darting toward the master bedroom. But after hearing just some footsteps and nothing more, he exhaled. Probably Elena just unpacking all her new clothes. Nothing important.
Turning back, he finished his analysis. "She covers her eyes constantly, and her face with a scarf, though that last one seems optional. She scribbles a lot, and she's fast when running. That's all."
His hand hovered for a heartbeat before the neat letters appeared once more: "I understand."
In the other room, Irina paced with a deliberately calm air, neatly setting her new clothes aside while dying internally.
I am in a WHAT? With WHO?! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU UNDERSTAND, DANITZ?!
She dropped a dress onto the table and buried her face in her hands, struggling not to scream out loud. A relationship with Klein?! Seriously, Danitz—where did you even GET that idea?!
Reflecting on her own actions so far, Irina found the very notion absurd. The two of them barely spoke when others were around. For the Goddess' sake, we even sleep in separate rooms!
She took a deep breath and stepped toward a box containing a new pair of shoes. But when she lifted the lid, her breath hitched and she froze all over again.
DANITZ, WHAT THE EVERLASTING FUC—
Roughly an hour later, the door to the master bedroom burst open. Irina emerged carrying a bag with some very special clothes she had bought on a reckless impulse days ago, something she now thanked her earlier self for.
"Danitz," she called, her tone deceptively calm.
The man emerged from his room with a confused expression.
"Come here."
That evening, Klein returned to the Wind of Azure Inn.
Despite an entire day's effort, he hadn't found a suitable target for his acting. The large-scale sweep from before had led to the arrest of many wanted pirates and adventurers, and those who remained were now hiding carefully, too cautious to show themselves.
Fitting his Gehrman persona, Klein pushed open the door to their place at the inn without a second thought—only to freeze on the spot the instant he stepped inside.
His Clown abilities flared up to their utmost, forcing his face into the most neutral mask possible at the absurd scene before him.
One of the curtains was drawn. On the chair Irina usually favored for its softness lay a pile of peculiar black-and-white accessories with far too many frills.
Irina herself was moving around, calmly tying a bow into place, adjusting strands of wild, charred-yellow hair.
As for Danitz, he stood there like a deer caught in headlights, his face drained of all color. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost, frozen stiff like a statue.
But it wasn't the curtain, nor the chair, nor Irina fussing with her task that short-circuited Klein's brain.
No.
It was the clothes Danitz was wearing.
Irina... what did you do to that poor man? Why is... why is he...
A black, puffy dress that stopped above the knees, with a low-cut top and short, ballooning sleeves. A white apron tied neatly around the waist, fastened at the back with a large, pretty bow. A matching frilly choker, white gloves, and even a ribbon tying his hair together. All topped off with a maid's headband—sitting mockingly atop his usual red one.
Danitz... why are you wearing a maid dress?! Klein screamed internally.
If not for Elena still circling him, making small adjustments, Danitz would have sworn time itself had stopped. That was the only thought he had as Gehrman stood motionless at the door, hand still gripping the knob, silently blinking at him.
"I—I wel—it's not what it looks like!" the pirate stammered, cheeks flushing bright pink.
As if shaken from his daze, Klein finally closed the door. But before he could say or do anything else, Danitz bolted for his room, slamming the door behind him with such force that both he and Irina feared it might come off its hinges.
Dogshit-dogshit-dogshit-dogshit! Danitz ripped the headband from his head and buried his face in his hands. For Storm's sake—GEHRMAN, CONTROL YOUR WOMAN!