Alexandria's Keeper - Lord of the Mysteries

Deep underground, in the dimly lit basement of Saint Selena Cathedral, Leonard Mitchell leaned back in his chair, his legs gracelessly propped up on the table. The guardroom just outside Chanis Gate was dead silent. The poet sat with vacant eyes, staring straight ahead, his expression hollow and unreadable.

Thanks to ritualistic magic, his injuries had all healed entirely, but his complexion told another story. His face was pale, showing clear signs of exhaustion and something deeper—as though life had been drained from him, leaving behind an empty shell, devoid of warmth or purpose.

Outside the guardroom, the Beyonders sent from the Holy Cathedral worked tirelessly to create a new seal behind Chanis Gate. The theft of Saint Selena's ashes had thrown everything into chaos. Heated debates filled the air as some argued for using a new holy item, while others believed it better to transfer the sealed artifacts to the Cathedral of Serenity.

Throughout it all Leonard remained oblivious to their arguments, disinterested and disconnected. Why... no sorrow or grief. I don't understand... He felt completely numb, like a living corpse. The energy to interact with the world around him had long since evaporated.

Just leave me alone. The poet wished he could shrink into a corner and vanish from sight.

Occasionally, questions would surface. Why would the 'murderer' need Klein's Beyonder characteristic? What would they gain? But the answers eluded him, lost in his grief.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The oppressive silence was broken by the steady echo of footsteps reverberating down the corridor. Leonard's gaze didn't shift until the sound stopped at the guardroom door. Seeka Tron appeared, her right arm tightly bandaged, her movements slow.

She regarded Leonard with a solemn expression. While he, Klein, and the others had been fighting Megose to save Tingen City, Seeka and the Keepers within Chanis Gatehad faced a different horror; battling against a portion of the Sealed Artifacts, the Keepers had barely survived.

The timely arrival of the Mandated Punishers and Machinery Hivemind had saved her life, but the elderly Keeper had not been so fortunate. 

"Leonard," Seeka said, her voice heavy with exhaustion. She held out a piece of paper. "The Captain found this unencrypted telegram in his office. It was sent by the Holy Cathedral."

The poet's green eyes flickered, faintly coming back to life. He vaguely remembered hearing the sound of a new telegram arriving, but with the chaos of the battle, neither he, Klein, nor the others had had time to check it.

"What does it say?" his voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

Seeka replied without hesitation, "Beware of Ince Zangwill. Beware of Sealed Artifact 0-08."

Leonard's brow furrowed as he repeated the names aloud. "Ince Zangwill, the archbishop who betrayed the Church. The Gatekeeper who failed his advancement... Sealed Artifact 0-08, an ordinary-looking quill..." His voice trailed off, his gaze darkening.

Then, understanding flared in his eyes. The numbness and sorrow disappeared. He pulled his legs off the table and stood, his green eyes burning with sudden determination. "So that's how it was..."

He looked at Seeka and said, his voice leveled, "I intend to apply to join the Red Gloves."

"Red Gloves?" Seeka's concern was evident in her tone. "But their lowest requirement is Sequence 7... Besides, the dangers the Red Gloves face are many times higher than an ordinary Nighthawk Squad."

Leonard's lips curled into a cold smile. "I've already digested my potion. I was planning to submit my advancement request today."

With emotionless eyes, he clenched his teeth, slowly letting himself be consumed by his anger. I want revenge!

Ince Zangwill, you must live until the day I become powerful enough! Overwhelmed by his rage, he almost missed Seeka's next words.

"Alright..." She sighed, seeming to have understood Leonard's thoughts. "With Kenley still on leave and Old Neil away, as well as... Irina and Klein gone, we'll be getting new faces around here very soon."

Leonard's expression darkened. "Is the body ready? And... what of Irina's?"

Seeka hesitated before nodding. "Klein's is, but... Irina's is still missing."

Leonard stepped towards the door with renewed fervor. "I'll notify his family."

I'll deal with the scene I don't want to deal with the most.

I'll do it...

A few days later, under a gray, drizzling sky, a small group gathered at Raphael Cemetery. Irina's funeral had ended quietly, and now the crowd stood before a new tombstone. On the grave was the seer's black-and-white photograph, his scholarly looks greatly highlighted.

Melissa stood before the tombstone, her eyes distant and unfocused. Beside her, Elizabeth, her friend, wiped away her tears with trembling hands.

Dunn, Leonard, Benson, and Frye carried the coffin on their shoulders as they walked over, lowering it into the grave.

After the priest gave the eulogy and individual prayers, the grave was filled with soil, covering the black coffin bit by bit. Melissa knelt suddenly and tossed in the copper whistle she had found on her brother's body.

Leonard turned and looked at the scene, his heart wincing. However, he admired how strong this girl was. He knew that she didn't cry after receiving the bad news. Instead, she stayed pitifully quiet.

The grave was leveled and a stone slab was laid over it. Leonard's eyes lingered on Klein's tombstone. Three lines of an epitaph stared back at him:

The best elder brother,

The best younger brother,

The best colleague.

Under the mournful atmosphere, the members of the Blackthorn Security Company gradually left. Selena and Elizabeth also bade the others farewell under the urging of their families. The only ones left behind were Benson and Melissa.

"I'll get a rental carriage," Benson said, his voice trembling with exhaustion. Dark circles under his eyes, his face much paler than normal.

"Alright," Melissa replied, nodding, her voice barely above a whisper.

When her brother left, she turned back to the tombstone. She knelt again, burying her face in her arms.

After a moment, she raised her head and glared at the stone. "Stupid!" she scolded, her voice breaking. Tears streamed down her face as she wept, the cemetery quiet, save for her muffled sobs.

Night had long since fallen over Raphael Cemetery. Beneath the cold, watchful gaze of the crimson moon, the copper-skinned Azik Eggers stood solemnly in front of Klein's grave, a bouquet of white flowers cradled in his hands.

The quiet rustling of the wind was the only sound that accompanied him as he gazed at the tombstone, his expression unreadable.

He stood there for a long time, unmoving, until a soft sigh escaped his lips. He muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with regret, "I'm sorry... I was ten minutes late. But I think I know who it was."

Gently, Azik bent down and placed the bouquet before the grave. He lingered for just a moment longer, before turning on his heel and leaving the cemetery and Tingen altogether, not retrieving the copper whistle that he had gifted Klein.

The crimson moon illuminated the place with its disturbing hue, creating a quiet and serene atmosphere. Suddenly, the silence was shattered.

The heavy stone slab sealing Klein's grave flipped violently to the side, landing with a resounding crash. A pale, dirtied hand thrust out from the soil. 

Whoosh!

The lid of the coffin was pushed open. Klein sat up, gasping for air as his disoriented gaze swept over the cemetery.

His memory was still frozen at the scene with the brand new leather boots and Irina's sorrowful expression. Everything after that felt like a dreamless sleep.

Instinctively, Klein's hands moved to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. He stared at the left side of his chest in horrified fascination. The gruesome injury, where his heart had once been, was squirming like worms as it healed. It was disturbingly similar to the bullet wound he'd survived from months prior—only now, the recovery was much slower.

In the northern part of the Loen Kingdom, the September breeze—much colder than usual—howled through the cemetery. Painting the whole area in a far gloomier and unwelcoming sight.

The cold jolted Klein back to his senses as he muttered with a rueful smile, "It looks like there are still some secrets behind my transmigration..."

He hesitated before adding, "But it seems like I'll only be able to resurrect another two times at most, not anymore... and if I were to be minced up or completely crushed, who knows if this recovery ability that doesn't usually appear would even be useful..."

After half a minute, Klein buttoned his suit, realizing that he was wearing his newest shirt and tuxedo, now covered in soil and dirt.

... Benson and Melissa really have no idea how to save money...

Bracing a hand against the coffin's edge, Klein pulled himself upright. His Clown abilities remained intact, he noted absently, even as his gaze fell on the epitaph etched into his tombstone:

The best elder brother... The best younger brother... The best colleague...

His heart clenched. The weight of Melissa and Benson's grief pressed heavily upon him, the pain in those words cutting deeper than any wound.

He sighed and retracted his gaze, crouching, closing the coffin lid with deliberate care.

His thoughts were still scattered, but Klein knew that he had to take care of the scene as soon as possible and not let anyone notice.

Resurrection is not something any commoner could accept.

He scraped the soil back together, finding and retrieving Azik's copper whistle, and covering his grave with the stone slab. Klein paused, staring at the familiar object before slipping it into his pocket. I can't summon the messenger now, not out in the open. There were more pressing matters at hand.

The clown lifted his left hand and saw the topaz pendant still wrapped around his wrist.

"I guess this is considered a burial object?" He gave a self-deprecating laugh and took off the pendulum. He looked around, his face growing solemn. "No one else died, right? Irina is strong, I'm sure she took care of him..."

After debating with himself, he decided to quickly pray to her and inform her of what happened. Klein knew that Irina knew of his rival; after all, she always went around saying she had knowledge beyond his understanding. And, her expression... he remembered his last moments, she wasn't surprised, just... regretful.

He shook his head. She better not feel apologetic for what happened. That woman, he lamented inwardly, she carries all that weight alone. She could've shared at least some of the burdens with me, I could've helped her! That's what friends do after all.

His prayer was short and concise, not wanting to disclose too much information when still outside. Her swift responses were a constant, and Klein clung to the hope that she would answer this time too.

One minute passed.

Klein frowned, tapping his foot impatiently. What's taking her so long?

Two minutes passed. The irritation faded, replaced by a creeping unease. Come on, it's cold out here!

Five minutes passed. Klein's throat tightened. The unease deepened into dread. She's just late... maybe she's sleeping, he tried to convince himself. She wouldn't ignore me... would she?

The seer took a deep breath. Let's not rush to conclusions, there are always other possibilities. Maybe she depleted her spirituality, so she's in a deep sleep. Or maybe... He began to think of the worst outcome. Don't tell me, did they lock her behind Chanis Gate again?!

He closed his eyes, focusing on the fight against Megose. She did use strange magic-like spells. Which means, knowing her, she probably advanced again. Klein sighed quietly, she always gets herself in trouble.

To confirm his theory, he decided to use the pendulum to find her location. If it points me to the Security Company or the Church, I'll know that I'm correct. He began to form the statement in his head. And if it points to her house, she'll get an earful from me for not replying!

He opened his eyes and watched as the pendulum remained as still as a tree. What? His confusion only lasted for a couple of seconds before the item moved. He decided to ignore the unusual delay for now and instead focus on the direction, noticing it wasn't any of his previous guesses.

The pendulum swung. He followed its movements through the cemetery, his confusion only but growing. Then it stopped.

He could feel his heart beating in his throat. No...

Klein stood before a pristine, new tombstone. The pit in his stomach turned violently as he lowered his gaze, praying fervently that he wouldn't see what he feared.

Fate was unkind.

His grip on the pendulum faltered, the air suddenly felt numbing, piercing him as he refused to believe the item's authenticity before him. The monochrome photograph of Irina stared back at him from the cold, grey stone. She had a playful smile, her classic high, dark ponytail, bright blue eyes—so different from how she looked the past weeks; a distant gaze, deep eyebags, a displeased but focused expression—overall an exhausted complexion. A strong contrast to his first impression of her.

Under her photo was her name without a surname—proof of her poor upbringing—date of birth, date of death, and epitaph.

The loyal guardian,

The most trusted partner,

The faithful colleague.

Klein staggered back, gripping the pendulum tightly as his vision blurred. He felt as though nothing made sense. He saw Irina deal the finishing blow to Megose, he saw just how strong her attack was. So why, why had she died when facing the man that killed him?!

"We saved Tingen." Said the captain, when Leonard asked him... "We," so why had she lost? The Captain was alive, so was Leonard, so was Frye, so was Royale... She didn't fight alone.

Irina... Klein shouted in silence.

He stood there like a statue, uncaring of how much time went by, until, with a sad smile plastered on his face, he suddenly said, "Your mental state was not the best that day... No. It hadn't been for a while by then. You looked so excited to be part of the—and yet, you missed the past meetings."

"You helped Old Neil. You helped me and Kenley against that witch. You helped us all against Megose... this... this outcome is not fair. You didn't even ask me what powerful offensive attacks I had—you already knew! I'm sure of it now..."

Having said that, Klein paused. "You promised," he whispered hoarsely, his voice cracking. "You promised to help us with the knowledge you always said you had, with the potion formulas, and—you can't just... leave. Not like this!"

As he spoke, he suddenly stopped. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he shouted softly with a choking voice, "Irina... we miss you too!"

He stood there for an eternity, feeling the cold breeze blow past him as he lifted his hands to wipe his tears and blow his nose, before retreating to a hidden corner of the cemetery.

He took four steps counterclockwise and entered the world above the gray fog.

He would find the murderer who triggered all of this.

As Klein appeared in the ancient place, its lofty palace and mottled table greeted him. He took his seat at the head of the table, the one belonging to The Fool and, before him, a yellowish-brown goatskin parchment and a fountain pen appeared. 

Since his physical body in reality was under limited protection, Klein didn't delay any longer and wrote down his divination statement after a moment's thought.

"The person who killed me."

He recited it seven times and leaned back into the chair, entering his dream with the aid of Cogitation.

In the blurry world, there were countless points of light dancing and gathering, slowly forming a scene.

A pair of brand-new leather boots and a pair of slightly pale hands greeted him coldly. Klein's gaze lifted, drawn upwards.

A man stood there—a middle-aged figure with short, dark blond hair. His black two-button suit was impeccably tailored, his features carved with precision that resembled marble statues. One of his eyes was clouded and blind, while the other gleamed a piercing, inhuman blue, so dark it bordered on black. The man's expression was calm, unnervingly so, like a predator that had already claimed its prey.

The image shattered and Klein woke up from his dream. His eyebrows furrowed as recognition dawned on him.

The murderer was familiar.

Ince Zangwill.

The name hit him hard, dragging with it a flood of memories. Klein's mind pieced together the pieces: the wanted notice he'd once seen, the man's crime of stealing Sealed Artifact 0-08, his fall from grace as an Archbishop of the Evernight Church, and his failed attempt to ascend as a Gatekeeper.

"It's him!" countless images flashed through Klein's head, and they finally stopped on the scene where Ince Zangwill strode past him, his gaze locked on Dunn Smith.

Why the Captain, he thought. The answer quickly appeared in his mind.

Saint Selena's Ashes.

Now that I think about it... Klein's thoughts began to wander. Why would the Captain take out that specific artifact when its grade would clearly alarm the child? Couldn't he have taken out... His mind froze shortly, don't tell me.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Klein extended his hands and rapped the edge of the long bronze table, suddenly understanding many things.

"Ince Zangwill wanted to become a High-Sequence Beyonder," Klein muttered, his voice steady. "As a Sequence 5 Gatekeeper, he had three potential paths: advance to Sequence 4 of the Death pathway, Sequence 4 of the Sleepless pathway, or Sequence 4 of the God of Combat pathway, Demon Hunter."

He paused, his gaze narrowing. "Saint Selena was a Saint, either Sequence 4 or 3. Her ashes could be the key ingredient for advancing to the Sleepless Sequence 4. Ince knew this, and he planned everything to obtain them."

Klein's rapping on the table slowed as another possibility surfaced.

"Was 0-08 responsible for orchestrating the events? It's a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact, after all... capable of terrifying manipulations. Did it push Megose and others to act according to its will, unknowingly fulfilling Ince's plans?"

He exhaled deeply, the enormity of his realization pressing against his chest. "Even for a Grade 0 artifact, it must have restrictions... rules. If it could simply make anything happen, Ince wouldn't have needed such an elaborate scheme."

He rapped the table once more, his mind returning to the immediate task. He had divined Ince's identity, but now he needed to locate him.

Having figured this out, Klein picked up the pen again and wrote his next statement with careful precision:

"The city where Ince Zangwill currently is."

After reciting the words seven times, he leaned back against the high-back chair, closing his eyes as he entered the dream.

This time, the blurry world cracked open to reveal a river, wide and slightly murky. Along its banks stretched bustling ports, teeming with workers and goods

To the northeast of the river, rows upon rows of houses stretched as far as the eye could see. Most of them had the Loen Kingdom's present-day architectural styles, such as polygenic roofs, oriel windows, and no verandah by the street.

The streets were filled with people and carriages with strange machinery appearing from time to time.

The farther east he went, the more chimneys there were and the smokier it got. When he headed west, the elevation rose, and there were houses in grayish-blue, beige, and light yellow that spiraled up opulent castles and Gothic clock towers.

Gong!

The chime of a clock sounded and snapped Klein back to his senses. He knew which city he had seen.

The 'Land of Hope,' and the 'City of Cities,' Backlund.

It didn't take Klein long to arrive in the city as well as settle down in a nice apartment. He created a new identity for himself, 'Sherlock Moriarty'. The irony of it being clear only to him.