The White Fox Arrives, Benefiting the Nation

Despite deducing that the enemy should be the Iron Hook Demon inherited by Jack the Ripper, Iver and the two others, along with the child, did not blindly trust this conclusion and lower their guard.

Just in case, they remained hidden in the abandoned chemical factory, observing the only entrance from the shadows.

Iver couldn't expose his Path of Transcendence abilities, so he couldn't draw Anti-Demon Magic Arrays, nor could he explain the habits and weaknesses of the Iron Hook Demon.

Since there was nothing else to do, he simply found a seat upstairs with Lu Lu and sat down to chat. They talked about music, poetry, philosophy, the non-existent "I have a friend," various secrets of the continent, and vulgar rumors circulating only among the lower classes that were not fit for polite society. Time passed quickly.

They even took the time to hum a lullaby to Little Iver again, ensuring he wouldn't be alarmed when he woke up.

It was then that they realized that neither the couple nor Little Iver had eaten breakfast. It was only a little after ten o'clock, but they were already feeling hungry.

Fortunately, Little Iver was already four years old this year and had long been weaned. Otherwise, if he were still a baby and woke up crying from hunger, Iver would probably have to politely excuse himself.

For a four-year-old, missing a couple of meals wasn't a big deal.

Iver himself said so. He said it was fine.

After all, according to the original Historical timeline, Little Iver would be entering an orphanage in a few days. At that time, going hungry and not having enough to eat would be a daily occurrence. And according to this fabricated world's timeline, Julio and Annie would obviously not die, and Little Iver should be able to grow up with his biological parents.

Of course, such future possibilities would only exist in their idle chatter.

Although this dream world seemed very real, with various tactile sensations and the feeling of hunger, it was undoubtedly fabricated—it was filled with various inconsistencies in the details, constantly reminding the ritual participants that this was just a fictional, temporary world.

As if doing so would make people regard the story that occurred in this ritual as illusory as well.

On the other hand, newcomers like Lu Lu, who lacked experience, would seriously discuss the subsequent development of this world with Iver and speculate on the reasons why they encountered such problems.

She was still guessing that Iver Moriarty's biological parents should have been killed by the Iron Hook Demon... but she couldn't figure out how Little Iver could have survived. Then she began to enthusiastically enumerate the possibilities of them being attacked with Iver.

Sherlock mentioned once that "the story that happened in this world is not necessarily the same as the real world," but Lu Lu obviously didn't listen. He didn't say anything more and was too lazy to listen—so he simply turned around to explore the chemical factory, satisfying his curiosity and desire for knowledge.

He did gain something, at least.

Sherlock found two bottles of pure water and a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid in the abandoned laboratory. They could be used as spellcasting materials. After that, Sherlock began to browse through the documents in the abandoned chemical factory, focusing intently on the various leftover files he found.

Like a detective invited to investigate an abandoned chemical factory, he was seriously investigating the incident.

As an adapter of the Path of Wisdom, he must have a certain degree of bibliomania. Compared to idle chat, this kind of reading was more satisfying for him.

"I think I understand why this chemical factory was abandoned..."

Sherlock returned contentedly, with a pleasant and satisfied smile. But just as he was about to tell Iver his reasoning, he saw the two people still chatting in the same place—they started from art and circled back to art.

So the newsboy, covered in dust, raised his eyebrows and turned the bottle of sulfuric acid in his hand: "Are you two still not done chatting?"

"Chatting is about the exchange of ideas and feelings."

Iver turned back with a smile: "How can there be an end to chatting? Family, life, dreams, what you read, what you do, what you think... two different hearts, two souls that have not yet overlapped, are like two exquisitely carved gems. When they overlap and are pointed at the sunlight, and turned slightly, they can reflect thousands of colors on the wall—that is the spark of different thoughts. I call it chatting.

"And if, by chance, when rotating to a certain angle, it reflects a dazzling beauty that is unforgettable for a lifetime—that is the focus of the soul. I call it love."

"I originally thought that you might be from the Port District and related to the gangs."

Sherlock said coldly upon hearing this, "Now I'm sure—you must be a playboy from a wealthy family. Smooth, sweet-talking, eloquent.

"Did you read so many books just to please girls?"

He had been reading the ledger while also listening to the sounds outside. Of course, he could also hear Iver's voice in this silent factory.

This is indeed a knowledgeable and cultivated person. He might not be as young as he looks, or perhaps he used a potion like "Luo Le" to maintain his youth... Perhaps he is indeed a well-mannered middle-aged man, just like the Priest Julio he is currently playing.

But hearing Iver's sophistry, Sherlock was certain that the other party was a young man.

This sophistry revealed a sense of showing off, childishness, and frivolity, as well as a hint of condescending arrogance—of course, he could be proud. At his age, to have such mature thinking and such extensive knowledge, he has surpassed too many of his brainless peers.

"Fox" is indeed very powerful.

However, he is still not as good as Iver Moriarty.

Although Sherlock had only met the real Iver once, that young man who suffered fundamental damage that even Illumination Spell could not heal, and who could only sit in a wheelchair to recuperate for the time being, was a truly intelligent, polite, and humble person.

Sherlock had a very high opinion of him. If he hadn't been busy advancing, he might have communicated with him more.

"Isn't wisdom that is spoken to others still wisdom? Is truth that is shared with others not still truth?"

Iver retorted, "I read books to tell others—isn't this also a kind of Dedication? There will always be people who can't read books, but they are not necessarily abandoned by Weizhe. They are merely like the eyes of the blind, the legs of the lame, the ears of the deaf; they lack the organs that allow them to read. Apart from that, they are still mature souls, qualified to pursue the light and seek the truth."

The black-haired, blue-eyed young monk narrowed his eyes, and that mature and handsome face revealed a fox-like smile.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and remained silent.

Although these words still sounded like sophistry... they didn't sound bad.

However, Sherlock quickly realized that this was just Iver switching to rhetoric that would please him.

"As expected of 'Fox'."

Sherlock sarcastically said, not too heavily, "I have heard that in the Primordial Empire in the east of the desert, there was a saying of 'Fox Spirit'. It refers to foxes who are good at arguing and bewitching monarchs."

"Then I think you don't know much. According to the Primordial Empire, foxes are called 'Thousand Years is Communication with Heaven' from the Path of Wisdom; from the Path of Adaptation's astrology, they represent Wei Su Jiu, which indicates many children and much happiness; from the Path of Authority, it means 'When the white fox arrives, the people benefit; if it does not arrive, the subordinates are arrogant and indulgent'; from the Path of Love, there is also the saying 'If the king does not indulge in beauty, then it will arrive', which says that if the monarch does not covet beauty and is diligent in governing the country... then the fox will appear."

Iver retorted without hesitation in the same language, "Then doesn't my appearance prove that Avalon is in its prosperous period?"

...Do you even believe that yourself?

Iver's words choked Sherlock, and he didn't know how to refute for a moment.

Especially since he knew that "Lu Lu" was Princess Isabel, he dared not say anything more. Compared to Sherlock, Lu Lu obviously had a better impression of the fox... If she went back and spread some words, he would be wrongly accused.

Indeed, this "Fox" also guessed who Lu Lu is.

That's why he said that on purpose. That's also why he deliberately approached "Lu Lu"...

Sherlock originally wanted to stop the inexperienced little princess from being bewitched by the "Fox", so he came forward to stop him. As a result, the fox's erudition far exceeded his imagination... He had even read the Original Codex from another continent. In that case, those secrets he said during the chat just now might not all be stories and lies...

Thinking of this, he admired the fox a little instead.

The Path of Wisdom is like this. They pursue mystery and truth, but not to leave a legacy or teach others.

Merely learning is enough to be pleasant, and exploring the truth itself is enough to become the meaning of life. From this point of view, if the fox walks on the Path of Wisdom, he might even be called his senior.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, but his tone became more gentle: "I was wondering, could the third dual-Path of Transcendence person be you? Your knowledge and intelligence have surpassed many fools who recklessly walk the Path of Wisdom. If not, are you interested in walking the path of a Mage?

"If you are willing, you can come to me. You know where I am... I can help you embark on the Path of Wisdom."

"Ah, then there's no need."

Iver shook his head: "I read books very pragmatically. If you want me to read just for the sake of reading, I might not have the patience."

"That's rare. A person on the Path of Dedication saying they're pragmatic."

"There's no conflict there. My purpose is to save all living beings."

Saying that, he smiled: "You might not believe it now.

"But I will eventually save Avalon... and even this world, from danger."

"...No, I believe you."

Sherlock paused, then answered softly.

Because when "Fox" said those words, the subtle smile on his face that "always made him look like he was up to no good" faded away, and he became much more serious instead.

In that instant, Sherlock felt that "Fox" was telling the truth.

Perhaps the cunning fox always speaks lies, deceiving people without a second thought... but perhaps, only those words were the truth.

Seeing the atmosphere between Iver and Sherlock suddenly become silent, Lu Lu panicked a little.

She had been holding Little Iver for a while and was getting tired, so she had placed the child's head on her lap. She let him lie on the side of the chair, his head resting on her lap as he slept.

Lu Lu didn't really understand what these two were talking about—because she didn't understand the bunch of foreign languages Iver had spoken in the middle.

But she subconsciously felt that they might have been arguing. Possibly about her.

Harboring the thought that she might have done something wrong, Lu Lu's expression became nervous.

And when she got nervous, she had to stand up and speak—because according to the etiquette Isabel had taught her, doing so as the protected party would make her appear formal and polite. As a result, she had just exerted force when she almost dropped the child she had completely forgotten about on the ground. Fortunately, Sherlock was quick-witted and rushed over to cushion the fall with his hand, preventing Little Iver's head from hitting the ground.

The three of them scrambled for a while before finally managing not to wake Little Iver.

"...Take good care of the child."

Iver said helplessly, "Or should I?"

Sherlock sighed and didn't say a word.

And Lu Lu had already forgotten what she was going to say when she stood up just now.

She awkwardly reached out and twirled the hair at her temples, saying softly, "Let me think about what I wanted to say..."

But just then, her expression suddenly changed.

"...Ugh!"

Lu Lu felt a churning in her abdomen, and a sharp pain suddenly struck—like menstrual pain magnified three or four times. Her face turned pale, her legs went weak, and she trembled violently.

She staggered forward two steps.

Just as Iver supported her, Lu Lu vomited a mouthful of filthy blood onto the ground, then coughed violently.

Mixed in the dark red blood were black clots that looked like jelly.