"...I didn't expect to digest part of my 'Swindler' characteristic, too."
Standing outside Lumian's house, Nimrod murmured to himself.
Nimrod had spent the entire morning patiently listening to Lumian and Aurore discuss what was happening in Cordu Village based on the information available, establishing where things stood in the timeline:
Within the dream of Cordu Village, the real danger had yet to erupt. Lumian was merely searching for traces of Beyonder powers, trying to use his own "dream" to become a true Beyonder.
Meanwhile, the news he had brought-that "some unknown power had sealed off the outskirts of Cordu Village"-had prompted Aurore to prepare to verify it herself using her Beyonder abilities. Lumian had been sent to contact the outsiders dispatched by the churches and government.
Under these circumstances, a "stranger" like him naturally couldn't remain in Lumian's house. Nimrod had taken the opportunity to tour Cordu Village, committing its layout to memory.
-The abilities of a "Mystery Pryer" really had made Nimrod's brain work much better than before.
Although he currently had the blessing of Sefirah Castle, he was ultimately just a Sequence 7 Beyonder of the Error pathway. The Cowardly Trio produced no shortage of glass cannons; one careless mistake could even get him killed by a Sequence 9.
Yes, that meant the nameless Mr. Magician who had been killed single-handedly by Sequence 9 Klein, and whom Klein had even mistaken for a "Clown." Unlike Master Luo, this master who had brought everyone so much amusement hadn't even left a name behind. The world really was going downhill.
"As far as I remember, Lady Slacker hasn't had much contact with Lumian yet, while the church trio is attempting to investigate... Those five are the few 'real people' in this dream."
Nimrod pondered:
"Of course, now there's me as well..."
"I remember the church trio was sent here because they received a plea for help pieced together using words from the Little Blue Book. If I could see that letter, I might be able to decipher more with my Mystery Pryer abilities."
"Unfortunately, I don't remember the relevant plot very clearly. Why didn't my transmigration come with a recap of all the novels I'd read?"
Nimrod laughed at himself. All he remembered now was that Lumian's dream had gone through three cycles, and which major factions had become involved. The rest was hazy.
So he planned to proceed at his own pace, starting by investigating the church trio to see whether he could glean more information from the clues they currently possessed.
"Your outfit reminds me of some unpleasant rumors."
Outside Cordu Village's old tavern, Leah spoke tactfully as she looked at Nimrod. He wore a pitch-black wizard's robe, and all his face lacked was a Monocle to make him look like the central figure in certain eerie rumors.
This investigative team had been dispatched by the Republic of Intis to resolve the problems arising in Cordu Village. It consisted of Ryan from the Machinery Hivemind, Valentine, a Purifier from the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, and Leah, a major from Bureau 8 who belonged to the Seer pathway.
All three were Beyonders of reasonably high Sequences, showing how seriously Intis's churches and Beyonder organizations took the events here.
"But rumors are only rumors, aren't they?"
Nimrod chuckled softly and said to Leah:
"Although the three of you might consider me a heretic disloyal to the gods, we have a shared interest in what's happening here-you need to investigate the situation, while I need to leave."
Beside Leah, Ryan listened without betraying his thoughts. Valentine, a fanatical believer in the Eternal Blazing Sun, wore a grim expression, seemingly doing his utmost to suppress the urge to "purge the heretic."
Having finished speaking, Nimrod leaned back slightly and waited for the three to respond. As he waited, however, he realized that the instant he had looked at Leah, a seemingly instinctive hunger had welled up within him.
Still, this hunger wasn't uncontrollable. With only a little effort, Nimrod suppressed the hunger rising from within.
[Did you feel it?]
A familiar voice sounded in Nimrod's ears. It was the Celestial Worthy:
[You carry a part of me, so naturally you have inherited our instincts-don't you want to tear her apart and swallow her?]
Nimrod gave his head a slight shake, ignoring the Celestial Worthy's whispered temptation. Wearing a polite smile, he extended a hand toward the three before him:
"Have you decided?"
Leah exchanged glances with her two companions. Only after confirming their thoughts did she speak:
"We can't fully trust the words of a 'Marauder,' but we can share a limited amount of information."
"For example, we're trying to find the person in this village who sent that plea for help..."
Before this, Leah and the others had already told Nimrod about the plea for help, refreshing his memory on the subject.
If he remembered correctly, the letter had come from the Little Blue Book in Lumian's home, with words cut out and assembled into a plea for help.
This seemed connected to two organizations: April Fools' Day, which followed the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings, and the Sinners, who believed in the Circle of Inevitability.
"...That's about it. We haven't obtained any further information yet." After giving Nimrod the same information she had shared with Lumian, Leah exhaled softly, then asked him with some curiosity:
"You're different from the helpful villager who came to see us earlier. You're an 'outsider' unfamiliar with this place, too. How do you intend to find our target?"
"'Helpful villager'..." Listening to Leah, Nimrod smiled. "There are things that would be inconvenient for you to do, but are very simple and convenient for me."
Valentine's gaze abruptly sharpened, as though scrutinizing the plan Nimrod was about to propose:
If he intended to harm the villagers, this fanatical believer in the Eternal Blazing Sun would do everything in his power to stop the unaffiliated Beyonder before him!
"For example, quietly 'stealing' the Little Blue Books from their homes."
As though he hadn't noticed the change in Valentine's gaze, Nimrod remarked casually:
"Praise the Lord. Although theft is an evil deed, if a minor evil serves a good purpose, I believe my Lord and my Father will forgive me."
"I had my own faith before I became a Beyonder. Although I haven't joined the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, I still follow the morals and principles in my heart."
Nimrod had only a shallow, vague impression of Valentine. He knew Valentine was a fanatical believer in the Eternal Blazing Sun. Apart from his different faith and a manner of conduct that wasn't quite as extreme, Valentine's personality didn't differ much from that of the True Creator's followers in the Aurora Order.
-This was something of a common affliction among Beyonders of the Hanged Man and Sun pathways.
As for verbally professing a faith, never mind a "genuine transmigrator" like him-even most of the Remnants of the Great Old One didn't care much about it.
Take the great Mr. Fool, for example. He believed in the Evernight Goddess and the God of Steam and Machinery, while also being a Blessed of the Fool.
Combined with the eloquence and charm granted by his Swindler characteristic, Nimrod's deliberately adjusted tone made Valentine's expression soften rapidly. Nimrod noticed a hint of approval appear in his gaze:
"Although that diverges somewhat from the doctrines I follow, it is still commendable."
"...Thank you 'very much' for your understanding, Mr. Valentine. In truth, I've always worried about straying from my original path."
Nimrod nodded with a smile, rose, and prepared to head outside:
"In that case, I'll take my leave. Time is short, and I need to hurry and search for clues. If I find anything, I'll share it with you immediately."
Early the next morning, after waking from his dream, Lumian couldn't help pressing a hand against his forehead:
"I've meditated so many times in reality before, but I never heard that strange voice or felt any pain..."
"Could it be that something special exists only in that dream?"
In the previous night's dream, Lumian had watched the blazing sun in his meditation turn blood-red, then rapidly become stained with deep black. It had nearly killed him and severely affected his condition, so he hadn't explored the dream ruins.
With this doubt in mind, Lumian tried meditating again. After verifying that "nothing went wrong in reality," he opened his eyes and discovered that a small shadow had appeared outside his window once more.
It was the shadow of the owl he had seen before, the one from the wizard legends!
Just as Lumian watched the owl prepare to spread its wings and fly away, and was about to call Aurore to track it, he suddenly noticed a figure wreathed in faint mist appear beside it.
He watched the figure leap into the tree with superhuman agility. A faint light flickered in its eyes, and the owl tumbled downward, disoriented like a kite with a severed string, before being caught in the figure's hand.
It was the terrifying gray figure from his dream, the powerful Beyonder who seemed to know his sister!
So this was the power of a Beyonder... Excitement surged through Lumian's heart.
But the gray figure quickly vanished from sight. In its place came a knocking sound from the window beside him.
Lumian hurriedly turned and saw Nimrod standing outside the window, holding an owl.
"Hello."
Nimrod smiled amiably at Lumian and said:
"Would you mind letting me in?"
That fast? Lumian was stunned for a moment before opening the window for Nimrod. "You caught that owl?"
Seeing that he was finally about to get his hands on the owl that had spied on him twice, Lumian abandoned his usual stubborn bravado and spoke to Nimrod with some urgency.
"I did, but only half of it... Besides, there may be something more important right now."
Nimrod lowered his head and glanced at the owl in his hand-it hung limply, as though its soul had been drawn out.
"Something more important?" Nimrod blinked, directing Lumian's gaze toward the distant grove.
At the edge of the grove, an elderly figure with graying hair, dressed in a coarse cloth gown, slowly walked into the trees.
Lumian's gaze froze. "Naroka?"
Nimrod glanced at Lumian and deliberately asked, "You know her?"
"She's an old woman from the village..." Lumian blurted out. "But there shouldn't be anything unusual about her. As far as I know, she's just an ordinary person!"
"Your whole village is abnormal right now. This place really is... blessed with remarkable people." Nimrod spoke to Lumian in an eerie tone, lowering the owl in his hand:
"Look."
Nimrod showed Lumian the owl. "There should be something Beyonder-related about it. After I used Thought Disruption on it, it died."
After he touched the owl with Sefirah Castle's power, its life had been drained away, like an NPC stripped of its AI.
"It died..."
Lumian's tone grew grave for a moment. He drew a deep breath, quickly composed his expression, and spoke as though nothing had happened:
"Speaking of which, do you know Aurore?"
"More or less." Nimrod found somewhere to sit. "In a sense, she and I are something like fellow countrymen. I hadn't expected someone like us to have family here."
Family... A quiet sense of pride rose within Lumian, but he kept his expression unchanged as he said, "Unfortunately, since you know my sister, I can't call you 'my dear little cabbage.'"
-"My dear little cabbage" was a rural Intis expression, akin to a father's affectionate name for his child.
"What a shame." Nimrod remained equally composed. "Did it occur to you that I might know a little about the various parts of Intis, including that expression?"
Hmm... A trace of embarrassment stirred within Lumian, but he still brazenly changed the subject:
"Friend, what should I call you?"
"Actually, you can just call me Godfather." Nimrod produced a cup from somewhere and filled it with steaming water. "Unfortunately, you probably wouldn't want to. So just call me by my name, Nimrod."
"All right, Mr. Nimrod." This time, Lumian spoke honestly. "You're the most powerful Beyonder I've ever seen. You could actually enter my dream..."
Nimrod glanced at Lumian wordlessly.
The beads of that scheming abacus were practically flying into his face.
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