Alexandria's Keeper - Lord of the Mysteries

At 7:15 p.m. Irina, Klein, and Danitz stepped out of the first-class restaurant and into the calmer evening air. The wind, which had shaken the boat not long ago, had settled down somewhat.

Irina let out a relieved sigh. Finally, some calmer sounds instead of that never-ending assault on my ears. This super-hearing is so annoying, ever since I advanced, it's been enhanced even more!

After thinking for two seconds, Klein made his way toward the entrance of the cabin, stopping a crew member. "Who else isn't back yet?"

The man, recognizing this particular passenger as someone who enjoy the delicious murloc meat with the captain, answered without hesitation. "Aside from the Branch family and the Timothy family at the Green Lemon Restaurant, everyone else returned before the gale started. Heh, that place is a bit far, and they take their time dining."

"Oh, right, Captain and First Mate went to the telegraph office, but they haven't returned yet."

Klein gave a barely noticeable nod and turned back in silence.

Back in Room 312, he stood by the window, eyes on the restless waves. He didn't need the gray fog to divine it, his intuition made him vaguely sense that something bad was brewing and currently happening.

Five more minutes passed. Still no sign of Elland or Donna's family.

Klein glanced at Danitz, watching the famous pirate slump deeper into his chair before sitting up straight under his gaze.

Then he looked at Irina.

She was still as silent as ever, gazing out the window with a calm demeanor. Unusual for her. She had a tendency to be bright and sarcastic, always adding some jokes or memes. But now—since joining him as Elena—she had been quiet. She's acting in her own way. She has to digest her... potion? Does it even count if she was a born sequence six and never drank one in the first place?

He watched as she didn't move an inch, clearly not wanting to talk. I wonder if she knows what's happening in the harbor like she knew of Ince's plans back in Tingen...

Klein studied her for a second longer, then turned away without a word and disappeared into the washroom.

Closing the door behind him, he retrieved a paper figurine and disguised it as himself before ascending to the gray fog.

There, he prepared to divine once more.

"Bansy Harbor is dangerous."

Holding his spirit pendulum, Klein lowered his voice and began to recite the statement in a low voice.

After repeating it over and over, he opened his eyes and saw that, while the topaz pendant was rotating clockwise, it wasn't moving with any urgency. The frequency was steady, and the amplitude small.

There's danger, but it's within acceptable limits... this contradicts the divination from before… Klein leaned his elbows on the edge of the long bronze table, fingers interlaced as he whispered to himself.

One possibility stood out: the current danger wasn't equal to the dormant danger. It was like an iceberg beneath the sea—only by triggering something or investigating it fully would the true threat reveal itself.

This dormant danger... it might've been here for centuries, three or four hundred years at least, maybe even longer, and not because of my arrival...

He narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. The current risk might even have nothing to do with that greater, dormant danger. But without more information, he couldn't divine anything further.

Klein exhaled lightly and returned to the real world, leaving the washroom and sitting down in a chair.

He was silent, hesitant, and didn't move for a long time, which made Blazing Danitz feel strangely uneasy.

Ever since Gehrman Sparrow had mentioned danger in Bansy Harbor, the infamous pirate had been on constant edge.

To make this monster change his mind and avoid the Green Lemon Restaurant, it has to be terrifying... why is my vacation so miserable? I'm plagued with bad luck!

The silence thickened, so much so that Danitz had to stand and pace back and forth.

Then, suddenly, the monster stood up.

Klein buttoned his double-breasted frock coat and walked over to the coat rack, taking another jacket off it. But rather than donning it himself, he turned and held it up for Irina.

Having followed his every action, she noticed immediately and stepped forward to take it.

As she slid it on, Klein retrieved his silk hat, adjusted the brim, and looked at Danitz. "You're free."

"Huh?" Danitz blinked.

A beat later, it clicked. His eyes widened. "You—you want to save the captain? And those ordinary people?"

His voice rose in disbelief. "You were the one who said it's dangerous outside!"

Also, why are you taking her with you?! She'll just be a burden! She's not a Beyonder! Just because you like a woman doesn't mean you have to drag her everywhere—

Klein set his hat firmly on his head, picked up his black wooden cane, and twisted the doorknob.

Without looking back, he answered, "They cooperated with me. They kept my secret. He treated me to murloc meat. He paid for White Shark's compensation."

... you're really kind, Klein.

Irina's expression softened beneath her lace and scarf. Never lose your humanity.

Danitz didn't react immediately.

Then, as if on instinct, he blurted out, "How much was the compensation?"

"A few soli." Klein stepped outside, and Irina followed without hesitation.

Danitz stood there, mouth agape. Madman! This fellow is completely mad! Whether it's how he treats others or himself—he's a madman!

Luckily I'm a normal person! I'll stay where it's safe! Danitz retracted his gaze and thought in amusement.

Then, as if to mock his decision, the wind howled again, rattling the windows and making the candle flames shudder.

Irina's eye twitched. That's IT. I'm creating a spell to fix this! Or something to lessen my hearing—but I can't continue living like this!

Danitz's breath caught in his throat. The ship is anchored in the harbor, which means it's part of Bansy Harbor... which means it's not safe either!

If I stay here alone—

Nope! Screw that!

In a rush, he bolted out from Room 312 and caught up with Gehrman and Elena just as they were stepping into the corridor.

Klein turned his head slightly, raising a brow. He didn't say a word, but his puzzlement was clear.

Danitz forced a grin. "If I were to retreat in the face of such trivial risks, I'd be mocked by all the pirates of the Sonia Sea!"

An excuse... Klein didn't expose him. Instead, he borrowed a lantern from a crew member.

Irina, however, wasn't as merciful.

"Or maybe you're just scared of being left alone without someone strong to protect you," she remarked with a flat tone.

The two men stopped.

Irina took a step forward before realizing they weren't following. She turned to look at them.

Klein, who was just ahead of Danitz, raised a hand to fix his top hat—clearly using his arm to hide the growing smile on his lips.

Irina tilted her head slightly in acknowledgment before turning to Danitz. He looked utterly bewildered—perhaps at hearing her speak when she rarely did, or at the words themselves.

He somehow managed to stammer out a response. "N-no—t-that's not I—NO! I'M A PIR—"

Danitz's blood ran cold as he saw Gehrman sharply turn and fix him with a cold look. R-right. People might hear me if I speak too loudly.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and continued with an authoritative tone. "I'm well-known and strong enough to take care of myself!"

Then, as if remembering his pride, his voice turned smug. "Maybe it's you who's scared of being left alone—that's why you're tagging along."

Irina simply adjusted her scarf tighter around her head and turned forward, not even bothering with a reply. As if.

A smirk tugged at her lips. I went against a Sequence Five and a Sealed Artifact at the angel level Danitz. Maybe you should get on my level before talking.

The pirate grinned triumphantly, thinking he had scored a victory. Yes, turn back and ignore me in utter shame. Serves you right! I'm Blazing Danitz, a famous pirate worth 3,000 pounds. You can't just talk to me however you want!

Knowing how strong she was and recognizing her complete lack of concern for the remark, Klein walked forward, eventually reaching her side before a thought struck him. He was acting as a crazy adventurer—yes—but also as a gentleman.

Without looking back, he leveled his voice and spoke. "Careful with your words."

Danitz gulped audibly. Dogshit! She's Gehrman's woman—of course he'd get angry if I commented on her!

He quickly backtracked. "I-I misspoke."

Carrying the dim yellow lantern and gripping his wooden cane, Klein stepped off the boat and entered the dimly lit port with Irina at his side—opposite of Creeping Hunger. Danitz followed closely behind, not wanting to push his luck any further.

Unlike Backlund, Tingen, or Pritz Harbor, colonial islands like Bansy Harbor lacked gas streetlights. Sparse candlelit lamps lined the streets, caged in glass, waiting to be lit. Unfortunately, the winds had picked up early, so no one had ventured out to do so. The road was now engulfed in darkness, with only the faintest outline of the crimson moon breaking through the clouds.

Compared to before, the wind had calmed significantly. At the very least, Irina didn't need to keep adjusting her scarf.

A thin fog crept in, seeping between the closely packed two-story houses. Every door and window was tightly shut, as if the entire town had been abandoned long ago.

With his lantern casting shadows along the cobbled road, Klein moved swiftly toward the Green Lemon Restaurant—the location Danitz had pointed out earlier.

Irina stepped closer to him, touching his arm and holding it lightly. Klein glanced at her briefly before returning his gaze to the path ahead.

This place feels and looks much worse than I imagined.

The moment she stepped off the ship, Irina had activated her Spirit Vision—and immediately regretted it. The entire town had exploded into a chaotic mess of colors with an overwhelming flood of information crashing into her mind. Present and past—too many useless details clawed at her thoughts, simmering with a faint trace of corruption.

Her protection had activated on its own. That, in itself, was alarming. But the true warning sign came when she felt the sharp drain on her spirituality.

Her eyes widened, and she immediately deactivated her spirit vision, opting instead to stare ahead into the darkness. For it to consume this much... this place is—

Woosh!

Amidst the fog, the wind twisted unnaturally. A sudden chill ran down Klein's spine.

Instinctively, he lifted his cane and propped up the collar of his double-breasted frock coat, shielding his neck.

Then, it happened.

A scene flashed in his mind.

A black shadow, roughly the size of a watermelon, lunging from the fog toward his ear.

Without hesitation, Klein swung his cane in a sharp, practiced motion.

Bam!

The black shadow was struck head-on and sent flying a long distance away.

Under the dim lantern light, Klein finally saw what had attacked him.

A head.

A severed head with its esophagus still hanging loose.

It floated eerily in midair, its flesh resembling dried cheese, mottled with mildew. A sickly yellow-green liquid dribbled from its rotting skin, outlining the contours of a face that had long stopped living.

Its nose was nothing but two hollow pits. The bulging eyes were mostly white, with barely any black remaining. Its lips had rotted away in multiple places, revealing sharpened teeth stained with dried blood.

Dogshit! Danitz's heart pounded as he stared at the grotesque sight.

Even with all the treasure hunts and monster fights he had been through, this was something else completely.

At some point, a revolver had appeared in his hand. He steadied his grip, ready to fire.

But before he could pull the trigger, a pure ray of light descended from above, striking the floating head.

A blood-curdling screech pierced the silence. The head writhed as its already decayed form was swiftly vaporized, dissolving into fine ashes. Not even a single trace remained.

Danitz blinked. How weak! Subconsciously, he reevaluated Gehrman. Is this madman from the Sun pathway? No... that doesn't seem right. It must be some kind of mystical item.

His thoughts were cut short as movement flickered at the edge of his vision.

Another head burst forth from the fog, this time lunging straight for him.

Bang!

As Danitz calmly pulled the trigger, Irina reached out and tapped Klein on the arm. He turned his head slightly, glancing down as she pointed at the spot where she had been holding onto him earlier.

Without a word, she lowered her scarf, and he lifted his sleeve, revealing faint, glowing blue rings circling his forearm.

They pulsed gently, weightless and cool against his skin. There was no discomfort, no warning from his spirituality—just an odd sense of protection. It didn't take long for him to deduce their origin.

Irina spoke quietly, not wanting the pirate to hear. "It's a shield. It was strong enough to protect against Megose's attack, but it wouldn't stop the force entirely. You'll still be pushed back, just not hurt."

She pursed her lips slightly, making a mental note. I still haven't perfected them. I need to fix that problem later.

Klein studied the rings for a moment before she continued.

"Can you feel how to activate them?" she asked with curiosity. It was the first time she had given one of her protective circles to someone else, and that was all thanks to a new spell recently created. She needed to know if it had worked properly.

For a moment, Klein was silent, his gaze distant as if in thought. Then, he nodded. "Yes. It looks like I just need to focus on its size, and it activates." He paused before adding, "Thank you."

Irina smiled slightly and turned back to watch Danitz with mild amusement as she adjusted the fabric over her face again.

Klein tilted his head, looking between her and the ongoing fight before arching a brow. "We're going?"

She gave a small nod, and the two started moving forward without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Danitz's brass bullet struck the floating head, shattering its glabella. The grotesque thing fell backward, suspended unnaturally in the air as though frozen in time.

A crimson glow bloomed above Danitz's open palm as flames swirled to life. He leaned forward, dragging his arm before hurling the fireball at the undead monstrosity.

The fireball struck, igniting the head in an explosion of red flames. The flesh crackled and blackened, an acrid sizzling filling the air. And yet, it didn't stop.

With its mouth stretched unnaturally wide, the burning head lunged forward, aiming straight for Danitz's throat.

Shit—!

Danitz barely had time to throw himself into a roll, dodging just as those sharpened, rotten teeth snapped shut inches away from his neck.

He gritted his teeth and shot up to his feet, his left palm already glowing again. This time, the flame didn't expand. Instead, it compressed, layer upon layer, until it was nothing more than a tiny ember, barely the size of an eye.

The moment he threw it, the fireball curved through the air, guided by his spirituality. It shot straight into the creature's open mouth.

Boom!

A fiery explosion erupted from within, sending chunks of decayed flesh and globs of blood splattering in every direction. Danitz exhaled sharply, shaking off the adrenaline that had spiked in his system. Finally...

Only then did he truly grasp how tenacious these things were. And yet, Gehrman Sparrow had taken one out without breaking a sweat.

It's because of that damned Sun domain power... Danitz thought, scowling internally. It's not fair.

That was when he noticed something else.

Gehrman Sparrow hadn't waited for him. With his lantern casting flickering shadows against the fog, he was already jogging into the distance, Irina beside him, their dark coats fluttering slightly with each step.

Danitz's pupils contracted. Dogshit! Wait for me... wait for me!

Without wasting another second, he bolted after them. There was no way he was staying behind in this cursed place alone.

Inside the Green Lemon Restaurant, Donna stared at the dark-red blood cakes sitting ominously in the white porcelain bowl. The strange horror she had felt earlier, watching the other customers eat, crept back up her spine. The image of blood oozing from the headless, cloaked man's neck flashed in her mind, and her stomach twisted.

She swallowed hard, fighting the rising nausea. The rich aroma had long seeped into her senses, but no matter how much it tempted her, she couldn't bring herself to take a bite. Instead, she poked at her salad and mashed potatoes without much thought, her gaze flickering to the clock on the wall. The hands crawled forward at an agonizing pace.

The second floor of the restaurant gradually emptied. One by one, the customers paid their bills and left, their departure accompanied by the rhythmic creaking of the wooden stairs.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Donna found the sound increasingly irritating, as if each step pulled her deeper into a nightmare.

Finally, she noticed the trees outside had stopped swaying. The wind had died down, leaving behind scattered debris on the ground.

"The wind has stopped!" she exclaimed, pointing at the window in excitement.

Her father, Urdi Branch, an import and export merchant, pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Where are your table manners, Donna?"

"But..."

Cleves raised his palm, silencing her. His voice was calm but firm. "It's 7:40 p.m., and we've finished dinner. We should head back. There are many nasty legends about the night in Bansy Harbor."

Superstition clung to every merchant who made their living by the sea. Urdi hesitated for only a moment before nodding in agreement. Without further argument, he paid the bill and gestured for his family and bodyguards to follow him downstairs.

Just as Cleves reached for the door, a soft creaking noise came from a nearby room. Donna nearly yelped, her grip tightening around Denton's hand.

A figure emerged from the shadows, his gaze sweeping over them before he spoke in an unsettlingly calm voice.

"It's fogged up. Best not to go out."

The man wore a black tailcoat and his round, fleshy face was partially obscured by a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. There was something eerie about how still he stood.

Cleves narrowed his eyes. "What are you trying to say, Mr. Fox?"

The owner of the Green Lemon Restaurant remained expressionless. "In Bansy, when the fog rolls in after drastic weather changes, it's best to stay inside. Don't go out. Don't answer any knocking. Otherwise... you might encounter bad things."

The more Donna listened, the tighter her chest felt. A cold, creeping fear slithered over her skin. She forced herself to say, perhaps a little too loudly, "People already left before us!"

Fox simply gestured toward the first-floor rooms. "They chose to stay."

Creak. Thud.

As if summoned by his words, the doors to the various rooms swung open—some gently, some not as much. The gentlemen and ladies who had dined upstairs now stood in their doorways, watching. Silent. Still.

Something about their gazes made Donna's stomach turn.

Urdi hesitated. "Perhaps we should respect the customs here. One night won't delay our boarding."

Cleves, however, was troubled. Gehrman Sparrow had warned him. A man like that didn't give warnings lightly.

There is danger in Bansy Harbor... but it doesn't matter if we're indoors or outside.

His decision was made. "Mr. Branch, trust in my profession."

Another bodyguard scoffed. "I've heard a lot of folklore, but none of them have ever proven—"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The restaurant's front door shuddered, accompanied by a distant scream.

"See?" Fox's voice was as measured as before. "There's knocking. Don't respond."

Urdi tensed, clearly wavering in his decision.

Donna barely heard him. Her attention was locked on the unmoving figures in the doorways, on the way their eyes didn't even blink.

"No! We have to leave!" She nearly shrieked, clutching Denton closer.

Cleves felt it—that suffocating, indescribable pressure. A bone-deep chill seeped into his veins. He took a steadying breath and doubled down. "If there's trouble, staying here is more dangerous. The ship has cannons and the sailors are armed."

That, finally, convinced Urdi.

Cleves waited for the knocking to stop, then, with a gun in one hand, he pulled open the door.

A thick, suffocating fog blanketed the streets. The wind had stilled, but the darkness beyond was deep. It shifted, as though unseen creatures lurked within it. Donna hesitated before stepping forward, hiding behind Cecile, with her grip on Denton as strong as ever.

Creak!

The restaurant door slammed shut behind them.

They were alone in the empty streets. Or so it seemed.

Cleves raised his lantern, its dim glow barely piercing the mist. Then—

Something crashed to the ground not too far ahead, rolling lifelessly and staining the ground crimson. Donna gasped and instinctively turned toward it.

A severed, rotting head stared back.

Denton screamed. Urdi paled.

Then—

Light.

A golden brilliance descended from above, consuming the grotesque thing, melting it away into nothingness.

Donna barely had time to comprehend it before another glow appeared in the distance. A soft, steady, yellow light, cutting through the fog.

A figure emerged from the darkness, lantern in one hand, cane in the other. His double-breasted frock coat melted into the night, and his sharp, cold features were as unreadable as ever.

Beside him, another shadow moved.

A dark trench coat was half open, revealing the flowing blue fabric of a high-slit, draped skirt over a simpler white pleated one. A scarf wrapped tightly around her head, strands of black hair peeking through. She walked beside him, mirroring his pace, undisturbed by the eerie atmosphere.

"Uncle Sparrow! Auntie Jaeger!" Donna and Denton cried out in unison, their voices trembling in fear but euphoric at their appearance.

The two figures halted. Klein tossed his lantern to Danitz, then turned to Cleves and the others as if nothing had happened. His voice was calm, almost casual as he spoke. "Let's go to the telegraph office first."

Urdi hesitated shortly before asking. "What about the Timothys?"

Irina stared at him in confusion.

Who's that again?