True Creator

Secrets Suppliant?

Taken literally, it meant someone who prayed to hidden beings.

It seemed to fit the profile of a cultist quite well...

Luther savored the name for a moment, then continued, "So, what abilities does a Secrets Suppliant possess?"

"Secrets Suppliants can sense certain mysterious and terrifying beings. They possess some knowledge of sacrifice and a small amount of Ritual Magic, and their perceptions and views will more or less become distorted. But aside from that, their physical strength is no different from ordinary people's. And because their spiritual intuition is relatively high, they are more likely to lose control than ordinary Beyonders."

"...Huh?"

More likely to lose control? What kind of trait was that? And his physical strength was actually no different from an ordinary person's... No wonder even a candlestick could knock Sirius down. He simply couldn't compare to Seers, Sleepless, and the like.

Luther could not help clicking his tongue.

"Do not underestimate them. Sequence 9 Secrets Suppliants are indeed not strong; their main threat lies in how easily they lose control. But their High Sequence members possess exceptionally terrifying abilities, known for their evil, madness, and omnipotence." Dunn continued, "However, due to confidentiality, I cannot tell you the specifics."

"Alright. Thank you very much."

Luther nodded, half disappointed and half uneasy. He was disappointed because he could not learn more about the pathways, and uneasy because, after Dunn's introduction, he could vaguely see the despairing prospects of this Sequence.

"Come to think of it, if you truly want to understand a Secrets Suppliant's abilities, shouldn't you be asking yourself?"

At that moment, the green-eyed Nighthawk who had been observing Luther without speaking finally interjected with a smile. He was fairly handsome, dressed unconventionally, and possessed the romantic, frivolous air of a poet.

Still not as handsome as me.

Luther muttered inwardly and nodded at him. "May I ask who this Nighthawk gentleman is...?"

"My name is Leonard Mitchell."

"Mr. Leonard, what do you mean by that?"

"No need to be so formal. Just call me Leonard... What I mean is, Potions come with their own information. When you became a Secrets Suppliant, the relevant knowledge was already imprinted in your mind." The green-eyed Nighthawk who called himself Leonard bent a finger and tapped his forehead, chuckling. "Why not try meditating? You might learn your own abilities that way."

Was it really that simple?

Luther found it a little unbelievable, but he still decided to give it a try. "How exactly do I meditate?"

Leonard then taught him how to meditate. Following his instructions, Luther closed his eyes, relaxed his mind, and tried to communicate with his inner self.

The streets at night were exceptionally quiet, and the other two people in the carriage stopped speaking as well. For a while, only the sound of the carriage rolling down the road could be heard. Very soon, Luther sorted through the thoughts in his mind and did indeed discover things that had not originally belonged to him.

"I can feel them. It seems to be some knowledge about sacrifice."

He murmured, his expression shifting as disgust filled his face. "How insane..."

Most of that sacrificial knowledge was twisted and evil, giving him detailed instructions on how to please evil gods, including sacrificing flesh and blood, human lives, and even the desperate, extreme emotions people felt before death...

"What else?"

Dunn pressed on. Being able to learn about Secrets Suppliants from a first-person perspective was a novel experience for him as well.

"There's also some... Ritual Magic..."

Luther frowned and considered it carefully. "But many of the rituals are insane. They are based on pleasing evil gods, and the effects they grant are extremely distorted..."

"It is roughly consistent with the internal records."

Dunn nodded. Noticing that Luther was in poor condition, he said, "That is enough, Luther. End the meditation."

"Alright."

Luther answered, but did not stop.

Hm? I should have stopped. Why am I still looking deeper?

Luther was confused, yet he continued. At the very deepest part, there seemed to be something... Some irresistible force was driving him to dive deeper into his consciousness.

Who was the object of a Secrets Suppliant's sacrifices?

Who were the beings those rituals prayed to?

Mad, surging thoughts drove him to pursue at all costs the Honorific Name of that grand being carved into the deepest part of the Potion. It was like forcibly squeezing his body into a narrow cave. Even with his bones long shattered, he still summoned his muscles and wriggled deeper like an insect... Finally, he saw it clearly, understood it, remembered it. Beneath that inverted cross, in that blood-red sky, upon Sirius's shattered corpse... Praise for the Lord was piled up, engraved, everywhere! That was the Lord's name—

"True Creator."

Luther trembled in terror. In an unfamiliar language he had never learned, with immense joy and despair, he involuntarily chanted:

"The Lord that Created Everything..."

"Stop!"

A furious shout suddenly rang out, jolting Luther awake from the Illusion.

Opening his eyes, he saw Dunn gripping his shoulder, a revolver already drawn in his other hand. Leonard had risen as well, hunched over as though ready to fight.

Dunn stared at him with deep eyes. Only after seeing that he had regained consciousness did he let out a breath and slowly sit back down.

"What were you doing just now?"

he demanded.

"Checking the knowledge carried by the Potion."

Luther looked utterly innocent.

"You were trying to invoke the True Creator's Honorific Name in Hermes!"

Dunn said sternly.

"What is that? Is it serious?"

Luther's head was buzzing, aching and dizzy. During that meditation, he had received a vast amount of mysterious knowledge from the Potion, filling his mind. From the corner of his eye, he once again saw irregular black lines and illusory limbs appearing in the corner of the carriage. They peered at Luther and murmured incomprehensibly.

"Serious?"

Leonard sneered. "If you had been fortunate enough to finish reciting the entire Honorific Name just now, you would already have become a Lunatic like Sirius!"

Luther swallowed involuntarily and instinctively glanced at the revolver in Dunn's hand.

In other words, they would have shot him outright...

Dunn put away the revolver and said:

"The True Creator is the evil god worshipped by the Aurora Order—the 'Lord' Sirius spoke of. You said before that when you fell into an Illusion, you would see a Hanged Giant, correct?"

"Yes."

Luther nodded, then suddenly froze.

Could it be...

"The Hanged Giant is that evil god's most iconic image."

Dunn said flatly.

"Hiss..."

Luther sucked in a breath, horrified.

A chill rose from the soles of his feet, climbed up his spine, and finally exploded in his mind.

No wonder Sirius said he carried the aura of the "Lord"...

"Why is this happening?"

he murmured instinctively.

Why had Luther before his transmigration seen such Illusions?

And what did that have to do with his transmigration?

"I really was only examining the knowledge in the Potion just now. That Honorific Name came with the Potion, and the instant I saw it, I involuntarily recited it." He defended himself. "I did not know what consequences reciting it would have."

Thinking back carefully, there seemed to be another Honorific Name in the Potion besides the True Creator's. But given the current situation, he had better not mention it for now.

"I believe you. But do not do that again next time."

Dunn said, giving him a deep look.

Luther nodded frantically.

After that, the atmosphere in the carriage became strange and quiet. None of the three spoke again until the four-wheeled carriage carried them to their destination.

Blackthorn Security Company—the sign bearing those words was illuminated by gas streetlamps. The entire building stood silently in the deep night, guarding the sleep of the whole city. The carriage door was pushed open, and the cool night breeze brushed against Luther's face. He perked up and suddenly remembered something.

"Oh, right, Mr. Dunn."

he said. "My younger sister was somewhat disrespectful when she spoke to you earlier. She is young and does not know better, so please be understanding."

Dunn had already stepped one foot out of the carriage. Hearing that, he paused and turned back.

"Do you think I would mind?"

he asked calmly.

You probably would not, but I still have to say something.

Luther thought.

Seeing that he did not answer, Dunn suddenly smiled and said something seemingly unrelated.

"Your younger sister has taken very good care of you."

"Huh?"

Luther was somewhat bewildered as Dunn pointed to his fingernails, hair, clothes, and other details.

"You were often trapped in Illusions before and half-mad, unable to care for yourself. Yet your fingernails and hair were carefully trimmed, and though your clothes were old and worn, they were clean—this shows that your sister has always cared for you attentively. And when facing me, a male police officer far stronger than she was, even though she was afraid, she still dared to speak up against me, all to protect her brother."

Dunn put his police cap on, turned, and stepped out of the carriage. His final words vanished into the night wind. "How could I possibly mind the slight discourtesy of such a noble lady?"