Anomaly: Lord of mysteries

Chapter9: The Queen and the Lord

Alex's POV

It's been two days since I arrived in Backlund. Creating a new identity was surprisingly simple using the Fool's uniqueness. I've crafted the persona of "James Holmes." The goal is to avoid unnecessary attention and establish a name that can help me in the future, particularly when digesting the Faceless potion.

The second matter on my agenda is building influence. Raphael suggested forming alliances early, so by the time the canon events unfold, I'll have a network powerful enough to exert influence.

I've considered a few key individuals for potential alliances. One of the possibilities is Bernadette, Emperor Roselle's eldest daughter. She commands significant influence and resources, which would be valuable in the future. I could help her uncover her father's remains or secrets, but the timing isn't right. If I approach her now, it might backfire.

When I consulted Raphael, she offered her advice:

"Master, your influence on the world is relatively weak due to your incomplete preparation. In three or four years, you could feasibly help free Roselle, and that would provide substantial leverage over Bernadette."

That possibility intrigued me. But will she believe me? Who would trust the promises of a random "Fool"? I decided to bide my time and plan carefully.

As these thoughts crossed my mind, I arrived at Sefirah Castle. The castle hummed faintly as if acknowledging my presence. Sometimes I feel as though the castle possesses its own consciousness.

Extending my senses through the Door's uniqueness, I located Bernadette's magic lamp. Using the loopholes provided by the Sefirah Castle's authority, I reached into the depths and pulled her toward me.

Bernadette's POV

The vast sea stretched endlessly as the Queen Mystic's ship sailed through the waters. Bernadette, Roselle's eldest daughter, stood on the deck. Beside her, a mysterious lamp glimmered faintly—a relic that had behaved strangely since a peculiar incident over a year ago.

One year ago

"What happened to you? Why don't you tell me?" Bernadette had asked the being in the lamp.

An ethereal figure had emerged, its form flickering like a fading shadow. Its voice was solemn:

"He has returned. If I say his name, he'll notice us."

Bernadette raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who is he? An Outer God?"

"No," the figure replied bitterly, "He is far worse. That bastard is the reason I ended up like this."

Her curiosity deepened. She laughed, mocking his state. "Then tell me his name. What are you so afraid of?"

The figure retreated silently into the lamp, refusing to answer.

Present time

Bernadette's focus returned to the present. She was still searching for her father, convinced that he wasn't dead. Her efforts had turned her into a pirate and the leader of an organization, but no matter what she tried, her search yielded nothing.

Suddenly, she felt a pull—a force tugging at her very existence. She resisted, summoning all her strength, but the pull was too strong. Nearby, Genie, her servant, watched the scene unfold. His face filled with terror as he muttered a prayer under his breath. He turned his gaze to the sky and sighed solemnly, as though he knew what was happening but dared not interfere.

In Sefirah Castle

Bernadette appeared amidst a dense gray fog. She looked around and saw an endless castle towering above her. The mist obscured the edges of her vision, creating an ethereal and otherworldly atmosphere.

At the far end of a long, bronze table sat a figure. The table was surrounded by 22 chairs, each engraved with unique symbols, but only one was occupied. The figure seated there was shrouded in mystery. His white hair flowed down past his shoulders, an earring dangled from his left ear, and a monocle adorned his right eye. His face was blurred by the fog, obscuring his features from view.

Bernadette instinctively activated her mystic eyes, trying to pierce the veil of fog, but before she could discern anything, the figure's voice cut through the silence.

"Don't use them. You'll die."

A chill ran down her spine. The authority in his voice was undeniable, and she immediately realized she was in the presence of a god—a being whose mysteries were not meant to be unraveled.

The figure extended his hand, gesturing for her to sit. Hesitantly, she complied, taking one of the nearby chairs.

Gathering her courage, she asked, "May I know your name?"

The figure leaned forward slightly, his voice calm yet resonating with power.

"I am the Lord of Mysteries."