LOM: Lord of Mysticism

West Borough. Iron Cross Street, Lower Street.

A three-story apartment was immersed in darkness. There were no street lamps or any additional light.

Suddenly, a figure leaped out of a window from the third floor and landed gently on the ground like a feather without causing so much as a stir.

He crouched and vanished as though he had blended into the shadows. As he traveled quickly, the figure arrived at the harbor. He headed for a corner devoid of anything except for a pile of goods.

He observed for a moment, circling the area twice before leaving the darkness and entering a corner.

One could see his amiable face. He was the Instigator Tris, who had single-handedly caused the tragedy of the Alfalfa.

"How does it feel?" A black hooded figure walked out of the shadows and spoke with the hoarse voice belonging to a woman.

Tris revealed a friendly and satisfied smile. "Feels great. It was a scene I dreamed and yearned for.

I think I have appropriately completed the mission and have taken the necessary preparations for the advancement."

The black-robed woman nodded indiscernibly. "Very well. According to the promise, I'll hand you the Sequence 7 formula and the three main ingredients. You will have to gather the rest by yourself."

"No problem." Tris answered.

The mysterious woman handed a book-like object to Tris.

The "book" had an ancient and mottled bronze exterior cover with a strange star-shaped lock on its side.

Tris knew that inside the "book" were the formula and ingredients. Composing himself, he looked curiously at the potion's name on the bronze outer cover.

"Witch!" Tris exclaimed.

Witch? I'll advance to become a Witch? What a joke!

The mysterious woman then spoke, "Weren't you always curious why our upper echelons are all female?"

…

The crimson moon high in the sky hung silently, illuminating Tingen City.

Klein's room was immediately covered in darkness, with only a sliver of red moonlight penetrating the curtains.

Klein took out the silver knife he had applied for and imagined the spherical light, entering a half-Cogitation state. He focused his mind according to his previous practice, allowing his spirituality to spew out from the blade's tip, and then allowed their motion to miraculously fuse with his surroundings, sealing off the room.

Following that, Klein put down the knife and walked four steps in a counterclockwise manner, accompanied by the incantation.

The unchanging murmurs inundated him. With the same mania and pain inflicted on him, he did his best to control himself and withstood the most grueling stage in his half-conscious state.

The grayish-white fog was endless. The dark red stars were at varying distances from him. The towering divine palace stood erect like a dead giant. Nothing seemed to have changed with silence and antiquity that had accumulated over thousands of years.

Klein looked onto a dark red star near him.

That was the star symbolizing Justice. The star's deep redness began to pulse.

Klein carefully spread out his spirituality towards the deep redness and felt a hum in his head. He saw a blurry and distorted scene and heard the illusory but stacked voice of prayers.

"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;

You are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog;

You are the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck;"

"I pray for your help."

"I pray for your loving grace."

"I pray for you to give me a good dream."

...

The female voice resounded constantly in an intermittent fashion. Klein's psyche turned more irritable and chaotic.

He repressed his emotions and used Cogitation to calm the urge and carefully discerned the blurry scene that appeared before him.

It was a girl dressed in whiterobes. She had golden hair and stood before four flickering flames with her head lowered as she kept chanting.

From the distorted image, Klein could barely discern that she was Miss Justice!

At this point, he confirmed that the ritual incantation he had created could precisely point towards the gray fog and towards him.

Klein's mood turned for the better and he felt that the pleading voice that echoed in his ears like a buzzing fly was now acceptable.

With a thought, he attempted to create a response in his mind, transferring it through the intricate connection of the dark red star.

"I'm aware."

The gray layer emanated before him. A distorted and blurry figure stood in the deepest depths as his voice resounded repeatedly in the vast and empty world.

"I'm aware."

"I'm aware."

"I'm aware."

...

Audrey Hall was jolted awake suddenly. She sat up with her blanket wrapped around her as her mind was fully occupied with the scenes she saw in her dream, knowing that she had dreamed of the Fool, the mysterious being that lived above the fog.

"Is this a response to my morning prayers?" Audrey, who quickly entered her Spectator state, calmed down and analyzed.

Although she did not understand why The Fool did not respond on the spot and only did so at night, she was still shocked that the ritualistic magic was effective with the few lines of incantation.

In the past, she had prayed to the Evernight Goddess but had never received any response!

Even if Mr. Fool was not a god, he is likely not far from being one. Audrey slowly inhaled before slowly exhaling.

Since he was a powerful existence that she had no means of resisting, she quickly threw aside her worries and began considering what to do next.

"First, I have to completely digest the Spectator potion... My acting is still pretty good.

Second, I have to seek out the Psychology Alchemists.

Third, I should try to obtain the Telepathist potion formula from Mr. Fool or clues regarding the Psychology Alchemists elsewhere."

"However, every godlike existence should have a complete Sequence pathway that belongs to them. They might not know the formulas of other Sequence pathways... A new Beyonder organization like the Psychology Alchemists could be small and difficult to locate."

...

With the connection severed, Klein sat at the bronze table's seat of honor, completely covered in gray fog. He leaned back and analyzed the process.

At that moment, he was the only living being in the world of the gray fog. Apart from that, there was absolute silence.

It seems I can only pass information over and am unable to use the powers in here…

He had originally planned on attempting to bind his body with the world of the gray fog in the same manner. As such, he could then leverage all the power of this mysterious space and could pray to himself.

For example, he could first conduct a ritual and pray to "himself" for spells. Following that, he would arrive above the gray fog and answer his own request and bestow it.

From the looks of it, I was being too idealistic... My understanding and control of the gray fog world has not reached that level... Klein shook his head and planned on leaving.

At that moment, he saw the dark red star that represented the Hanged Man begin to pulse and heard an ethereal and formless voice spread out.

"I coincidentally chanced upon The Hanged Man's ritual."

He sat at the seat of honor and extended his hand to tap on the star and heard The Hanged Man's repeated prayers.

...

Alger Wilson was situated in the Rorsted Archipelago's City of Generosity.

He had not gone with the sailors to the famous Red Cabaret but stayed inside the hotel and sealed the door and windows shut to attempt the ritual The Fool had described.

After familiarly finishing the prayer, Alger waited patiently for a moment but did not receive any response.

"It seems this attempt isn't too successful... Mr. Fool needs to change methods."

Alger went downstairs for a bottle of Langsky Proof—alcohol that could aid a Folk of Rage to unleash his powers. Mandated Punishers of the Lord of Storms were rather fond of this sort of beverage.

Pulling open the door, Alger was about to walk out when his vision blurred.

"I'm aware." The familiar voice reverberated around Alger's ears, causing him to freeze.

Alger looked around. There was still the same squeaky floorboard, the same aged wall candle stands, and the same unclean corridor.

...

Klein did not spend too much time above the gray fog. When all the remnant voices returned to normal, he enveloped himself in his spirituality and plunged into the gray fog, plummeting into the material world.

The lights before him flew by, like the scenes of a movie playing back. Klein saw the curtains that let crimson moonlight through.

He picked up the silver knife again and removed the spirituality wall in the room, and a sudden gust of wind opened the door.

His mission tomorrow was to head with Old Neil to the underground markets for Beyonder items.