Klein made a decision in an instant.
He maintained his reclined posture, his face shrouded in Gray Fog turning toward the Hanged Man. In a calm tone tinged with faint approval, he said, "You did very well."
That simple evaluation quietly loosened Alger's tightly wound nerves.
Klein said no more. He merely extended his right hand and lightly tapped the surface of the long bronze table.
Silently, a yellowed parchment that seemed to have endured endless ages materialized out of thin air. Beside it lay a dark black, classically styled fountain pen.
"Write it down."
The indifferent voice echoed through the grand palace, carrying unquestionable authority.
"Yes, Mr. Fool."
Alger replied respectfully, then picked up the pen and began copying onto the parchment the diary entries he had gone to great lengths to obtain.
Curiosity gleamed in Audrey's emerald eyes as she quietly watched everything unfold, though her gaze occasionally drifted toward Mr. World.
She sensed something familiar about Mr. World, something much like her teacher.
But the problem was, her teacher had not received an invitation from Mr. Fool, had he?
Edwin, seated on the other side, paid no attention to Audrey's gaze. Instead, he watched the Hanged Man copying Roselle's diary with great interest.
When Audrey had spoken with him in the real world, she had mentioned that this mysterious Mr. Fool, like him, held an extraordinary interest in Emperor Roselle's diary.
That in itself was an extremely unusual matter.
After all, to the overwhelming majority of people in this world—even to deities—the square-shaped symbols in Roselle's diary were an entirely fabricated, indecipherable mysterious script.
It was neither ancient Feysac nor Giantish, neither Elvish nor Draconic. No trace of its origins could be found anywhere in this world's history.
If there were a large number of texts written