"I still don't understand. What do you want this thing for?"
Clad in armor that looked as though it had been cast from blood and black iron, Medici stood brazenly to one side, his body noticeably more solid than before. He eyed Nimrod suspiciously. "Neither its level nor the potions recorded on it should be of any use to you, should they?"
For ordinary Beyonders, the greatest value of Roselle's Cards of Blasphemy lay in their complete record of a pathway's sequences, from 9 to 0. Combined with their extraordinarily high level, they practically allowed their holders to collect potions and advance all the way to godhood, provided they didn't die along the way.
Of course, given the Beyonder Law of Convergence, anyone holding a Card of Blasphemy without a means of concealing it or some other special advantage would most likely be killed by a High Sequence Beyonder of the same pathway drawn to them by convergence.
The previous owner of the Card of Blasphemy in Medici's hand had been just such an unlucky soul. In his case, the Hunter card had drawn him to the place where Sauron Einhorn Medici-once three Sequence One Archangels-had died, and he had perished on the spot.
Nimrod naturally knew all the Hunter potion formulas. But he wasn't the original Lord of the Mysteries that Medici imagined him to be, and the Card of Blasphemy's level was useful to him as well.
Still, he could hardly tell Medici, "I'm planning to cultivate a Hunter-Demoness to take your place," could he?
So he merely smiled. "The Mother Goddess of Depravity left a contingency in this set of Tarot Cards. I don't want it taking effect while I'm down on my luck. I could tell you more, but are you sure you want to hear