LOM: Lord of Mysticism

Emperor Roselle is really a transmigrator and a fellow countryman of mine? He used simplified Chinese—which doesn't exist in this world—to record secrets?

With the indescribable feeling of identifying an old friend in another world, Klein began reading through the three pages:

"18th November. Truly a fascinating matter. A blue-sky experimentation and a mistake by chance made me discover the sad fellow lost and trapped in the deep darkness amid the storms. He can approach the reality of this world only on the day of the full moon every month, yet he is unable to transmit his cries. He is lucky to have met me—the protagonist of this era."

"After reading what I wrote above, I felt a little down. Even my Chinese is written like a translation. Four decades have passed in an instant—my past memories feel more like a dream."

"1184, 1st January. At the grand New Year Gala, Lady Florena was truly splendid."

"2nd January. My diplomats are all idiots!"

"3rd January. I made a hasty choice back then. In hindsight, I should have chosen the Apprentice, the Seer, or the Marauder. Unfortunately, there is no way of redoing it."

"4th January. Why are my children so stupid? I've repeated myself so many times. Do not be fooled by those charlatans! The key thing about potions is not about grasping them, but digesting them! It's nothing about tapping powers, but acting! And the name of a potion is not solely symbolic at its core, but concrete imagery and the 'key' to digestion!"

"22nd September. An alliance opposing me has been established. Feysac from the north, Loen from the east, and Feynapotter from the south. My enemies have finally joined forces, but I have no fear. I will use facts to teach them that the generations of weapons and knowledge cannot be compensated by mere numbers and Low-Sequence Beyonders. Besides, it's not as though I do not have subordinates, and as for the higher-grades, heh heh—have they forgotten who I am?"

"23rd September. I have lost communications with the ship seeking the Forsaken Land of the Gods. I hope it will not be affected by the storm. In the future, I should invent wireless telegraphs."

"24th September. Miss Ithaca is more mesmerizing than Lady Florena. Maybe I'm being nostalgic about my youth."

Each page held only a little content, and the back of each page was left blank. Even so, a few entries peaked his interest.

In particular, Emperor Roselle's insights on the essence of potions felt like uncovering a major secret—one that could guide him on his path as a Beyonder!

Still, the three pages might correspond to different years. Emperor Roselle usually noted the year on the first entry for each year, so I can't be certain which year the entries from September and November belong to.

Who is the fellow he discovered? What do "digesting" and "acting" actually mean? Where is the Forsaken Land of the God's located?

These questions bubbled in Klein's head, making him eager to gather all of Emperor Roselle's diary pages.

"Klein?" Old Neil asked puzzledly.

Klein jolted awake. "I was trying to see if I was the one to be able to decipher and interpret it."

"You are young indeed." Old Neil nodded, laughing. "I once believed that I was special as well."

Klein flipped through the pages in his hand, and after confirming that he had not missed anything, he handed them over to Old Neil. "Do we only have these few pages?"

"Did you think there would be many?" Old Neil scoffed. "There are not many incidents each year that involve Beyonders and mysterious encounters to begin with.

Sigh, the major reason is the gradual extinction of extraordinary species in our Northern Continent. Without them, there won't be a lot of potions, causing the number of Beyonders to reduce with time. Sigh, over the past few centuries, dragons, giants, and elves have become simply records in books. Even the seafolk are no longer seen near the coastal waters."

"I think it's time to establish a Dragons and Giants Protection Association." Klein said

It took Old Neil some time to figure out what Klein meant. "Haha, Klein, you really are humorous. Why only protect dragons and giants? It should be called the Fantastic Beasts Protection Association."

"There are fewer interesting young people like you these days... Where was I? There are not many incidents a year that involve Beyonder incidents. The retards who revere Emperor Roselle are the minority of the minority. It's already good that we can obtain three scripts. Well, the other larger cathedrals or dioceses might have some."

After muttering a few words, he took the approval note that Klein had placed on the table earlier and took a look. "Do you need pistol bullets, rifle bullets, or steam-pressured bullets?"

"I need bullets for a revolver," Klein said.

"Alright. I'll go get them. Ahem, do you have an underarm holster? As a gentleman, we can't let you have something bulging below your waist in public." Old Neil joked.

"Heh, no. Do I need to get Captain to include it?" Klein said.

"There's no need. I just need to make a record since it's only an accessory item. Repeat after me: accessory item." Old Neil said.

"Were you a teacher in the past?" Klein asked.

"I spent some time at free schools and at the Church Sunday classes." Old Neil took a key from the drawer and unlocked the iron door leading to an inner chamber.

Beyonders don't seem so different from commoners. Klein murmured to himself, shifting his gaze to the table where the three diary pages lay.

Emperor Roselle truly had ties to the realm of mystery... To others, these are just scraps of paper, but they could be valuable to me. I have to find a way to obtain more... I wonder where the rest of the diary might be...

Klein's mind churned with thoughts, and he remained deep in contemplation until Old Neil closed the iron door and returned.

"Ten demon hunting bullets, thirty revolver bullets, an underarm holster, and a Seventh Unit—Special Operations Department badge. Please count them and sign the log book." Old Neil placed the items on the table.

The revolver bullets had a yellow sheen and were neatly arranged in a three-layered paper box. The demon hunting bullets, silver in color, were stored in a small iron box. Intricate, dazzling patterns with tiny Sacred Emblems—a black background dotted with stars and a half-crimson moon—were engraved at the base of each bullet.

The ox-hide holster came with a belt and buckle. Next to it was a badge, smaller than Klein's palm, inscribed with "Awwa County Police Department and Seventh Unit, Special Operations Department" in silver text forming two sealed circles around the police emblem of two crossed swords beneath a crown.

"Unfortunately, it's not a Nighthawks badge," Klein said.

Old Neil urged Klein to test the underarm holster. After he took off his jacket, Klein took quite an effort to buckle up the holster.

"Not bad." He put on his jacket again.

Old Neil sized him up and nodded in satisfaction. "It suits you well."

After putting away the other items and signing the log book, Klein had a short conversation with Old Neil before leaving.

Halfway, he suddenly slapped himself in the forehead. "I forgot to learn more about the Sequences and potions. It's all the fault of Emperor Roselle's diary."

At this point, Klein was unaware of what the Church of Evernight's first Sequence entailed—all he knew was that the pathway began at Sequence 9.

Had Rozanne mentioned something about The Sleepless? Just as Klein was slowly heading towards the stairs, he spotted someone.

The man wore fitted trousers and an untucked white shirt, carrying the romantic air of a poet. He was the black-haired, green-eyed police inspector who had previously searched Klein's place.

"Good afternoon," the young, poet-like Nighthawk greeted with a smile.

"Good afternoon. Should I introduce myself?" Klein asked.

"No need. I remember you well." The young Nighthawk extended his hand. "Leonard Mitchell. Sequence 8, Midnight Poet."

Sequence 8... and he really is a poet, Klein thought with a faint smile as he shook his hand. "Do you remember me so well?"

Leonard replied with a faint smile. "You have a unique disposition."

He feels and sounds so theatrical, Klein thought, barely holding back a smile. "I don't see anything special about myself."

"After being involved in a mysterious incident, you managed to survive without our protection—that makes you unique enough." Leonard gestured ahead. "I'm covering for our Captain. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow." Klein stepped aside for him.

As Leonard reached the end of the stairwell, he paused, staring at the stone floor and muttering into the air, "Did you sense anything unusual?"

"Indeed, there's nothing special about him," a voice replied.