LOM: Lord of Mysticism

"A prayer?"

Klein's mind stirred as he used the same method he used back when he spied on The Hanged Man and allowed his spirituality to spread outward to touch the crimson blob.

A hazy and contorted image appeared within his sight. He could faintly see a blond teen kneeling on the ground, facing a pure crystal ball.

That teenager was dressed in a black outfit, a style very different from the contemporary styles of the Loen Kingdom. It was more congruent with the traditional clothing of the Feysac Empire and the Intis Republic that Klein had seen from reading magazines.

The area surrounding the teenager was dark and had old furniture. From time to time, the room would be illuminated, but Klein couldn't hear the roaring thunder or the pattering of rain.

In the image, the teenager had his hands on his forehead, fingers crossed. He bowed forward, continually praying for something.

His thick accent buzzed. Klein listened attentively but discovered an awkward fact.

He couldn't understand what the other party was saying, as it was a language that he had never come across in his life.

Klein indignantly tried listening in once again.

As he was listening to the prayers, he gradually discovered something. Even though he had never learned the language the young man was speaking, he found that it had similarities to Ancient Feysac.

Father... Mother... Those are likely the meanings of those two terms, right? It is quite similar to Ancient Feysac, but not without its differences.

Ancient Feysac was a common language in the Fourth Epoch. It is also the root language of all the contemporary languages of this era.

He listened over and over again, eliminating the possibility of the language being a modern language like Loen, Feysac, or Intis.

There was another possibility. Ancient Feysac didn't spring into existence out of nothing; it was an evolution of Jotun, the language of the Giants. The Feysac Empire in the north has always claimed that its people possess the bloodline of the Giants. Perhaps this is ancient Jotun.

At this point, Klein, who lacked knowledge, could only stop. He retracted his spirituality, no longer looking at or listening to that scene.

He had no intention of pulling the praying teen up above the fog immediately. He wanted to know what the young man was saying first.

Klein leaned back in his chair and enveloped himself with his spirituality, simulating the feeling of falling.

...

After "revising" Roselle's diary, Klein changed into his formal wear and left for the Divination Club.

He took the public transport despite his pay rise. When he arrived at Howes Street, Klein walked up to the second floor.

Klein had just entered the hall when he felt a faint, lingering grief. The pretty receptionist Angelica was sitting there; her slightly red eyes looked unfocused.

Klein walked toward Angelica.

She looked up and muttered, "Mr. Moretti..."

She quickly came to her senses. "Do you already know about Mr. Vincent?"

Klein sighed appropriately. "I only managed to divine a very rough outline of what transpired... Just what exactly happened to Mr. Vincent?"

"The boss told us that Mr. Vincent had a heart attack in his sleep and left this world peacefully.

He was so friendly, so polite, a true gentleman. He was the spiritual mentor of so many of our members. "He was still so young."

Klein walked toward the meeting room slowly.

As it was a Monday, there were only five or six members in the meeting room. Using his Spirit Vision, Klein saw that they each had different colors of emotion. Some were grieving, some more dull, some relatively unaffected.

Klein picked up his cane and found a spot in the room. Just then he saw Angelica walk in and walk towards him.

"Mr. Moretti, a customer is looking for you. Well, it's the person from last time," she said with a hushed tone.

Klein stood up and walked outside without saying anything.

In the reception area, he found the person who had sought his services the other day.

Bogda grabbed Klein's hand and said, "Mr. Moretti, I have fully recovered! The doctors asked me questions over and over again and ran repeated tests on me, but they cannot believe that I recovered just like that!"

Upon hearing Bogda's ecstatic description, Klein could verify that the apothecary at Lawson's Folk Herb Store was a Beyonder.

"I have to repent to God. To think that I would suspect you, suspect that miraculous doctor." Bogda continued on about his gratitude: "Those ten pounds were truly money well spent. It bought my life back!"

What? Ten pounds? You spent ten pounds on that miraculous medicine? I only got eight pence for my divination. Klein was dazed.

Bogda bowed reverently and said, "I am here today to express my gratitude. Thank you, Master Moretti. You are a true seer. You showed me the way and saved my life."

Next, I'll be heading to Vlad Street to thank that apothecary and buy the medicine he recommended."

"Haven't you already recovered?" Klein asked.

Bogda looked around and laughed when he confirmed that the receptionist was not paying attention. "The doctor mentioned a concoction of herbs that includes mummy powder. It is a prescription that would satisfy both men and women... I didn't believe the doctor back then, but I have no more doubts now."

"Mummy powder?" Klein cautiously asked.

"Yes, mummy powder. I have asked a friend, and he said that even the nobles of Backlund are maniacally looking for such an item. It's a powder made by grinding mummies, which gives men peak performance in bed. Even though it's disgusting and sounds dirty, it truly is material used by the aristocrats. Bogda gave a detailed description.

Grinding mummies into powder? Klein was dumbfounded.

Klein stayed until the afternoon before taking a carriage down to Vlad Street, intending to observe the apothecary named Lawson Darkweed before deciding if he should notify the captain or not.

...

18 Vlad Street.

Klein stood outside the herb store and saw the closed door, as well as a subletting notice.

Quite a wary man, he muttered silently.

Since this had happened, he no longer had to be troubled or perform any observations.