Klein sat at a desk, meticulously crafting two protective charms—one for Benson, one for Melissa—while recalling the package his brother Benson had received.
A letter and two bottles of wine. According to Benson, these were sent by the "generous Mr. Abraham." In the letter, Adrian Abraham explained he'd be staying in Backlund temporarily for business and, to expedite the commercial order with Benson, sent two bottles from his family's winery for Benson's import-export company to discuss pricing. Notably, one bottle was a personal gift for Benson.
Upon first hearing this, Klein thought Adrian was simply wealthy and generous. But reflecting on his own savings, he felt genuine envy. After finishing the charms, Klein stood, carefully tucking them into his pocket.
Completing his cleanup, Klein left the clerical office to submit scrapped materials when he saw Captain Dunn approaching in his black trench coat.
Dunn's deep gray eyes scanned him, a smile tugging at his lips. "Klein, the Church has approved—you're now a full-fledge Nighthawk. His Excellency Sword of the Goddess checked your condition; there's no trace of pollution. Sigh, it's a shame Old Neil can't return yet… but fortunately, under Church supervision, he's unlikely to risk losing control."
"…Sigh." Despite becoming a full Nighthawk, Klein's mood remained heavy. Dunn, assuming Klein was saddened by the incident, nodded. "You can collect this week's 3-pound salary now, then 4.5 pounds weekly until your advance is repaid."
"The Church will continue investigating the source of Old Neil's pollution, which may involve a clash between the True Creator and Hidden Sage. Klein, rest for a few days. I'll notify you if any tasks arise."
Yes! Klein clenched his fist, the salary news dispelling some of his gloom. Old Neil was alive—there was still hope. Klein felt confused; Old Neil's survival was a silver lining, but why… had three distinct apparitions appeared above him? Why hadn't Dunn mentioned the third, eyeball-like spirit?
Forget it… Klein shook his head, burying the question. From his recent occult studies, the oddest part was why Old Neil, an ordinary Mystery Pryer, had attracted the gaze of three great existences. Unable to puzzle it out, Klein decided to end the day's work and head home to dine with his siblings. Benson had mentioned that tomorrow night, Selena's family invited Melissa and the brothers to their birthday banquet—life, with all its mysteries, went on.
"Benson, that outfit looks sharp today," Klein said, tossing his coat aside and grinning. Benson, rubbing his receding hairline, chuckled, "Thanks to that gentleman. He's a true gentleman—wealthy, generous, and considerate. Though he's a bit too keen on learning… ugh, those grammar books Mr. Abraham recommended are tough to slog through."
"No, Benson," Klein said, smiling but serious. "I think Mr. Abraham's a thoughtful man. Knowledge is wealth. Look at me—without a university interview, my skills still got me hired… Oh, my salary went up today."
Though not the kind of knowledge you're thinking… Klein thought, recalling Old Neil's incident with bittersweet humor. At Melissa's urging, the siblings tidied up, left the house, and took a trackless public carriage to Selena's home on Fania Street in the North District.
Stepping off the carriage, Klein sensed a prying gaze from his left. Puzzled, he looked but saw only a "wall." The sensation vanished. Shaking his head, he inspected closer—just an ordinary wall. Filing the incident away, he resolved to report it to Dunn after the banquet, staying quietly alert.
"You were seen by him," the True Creator's deafening voice boomed, scattering the flesh beneath Him. The High-Dimensional Overseer held a piece of flesh encased in amber, carefully placing it into a spherical container. Ignoring the True Creator, He adjusted the container. After a while, He paused and said, "Looks like Klein's link to Sefirah Castle is deeper than we thought. When I breached reality, I saw Sefirah Castle. I suspect Klein glimpsed my true form."
"Sefirah Castle…" the True Creator rumbled. "It's always hovered above the Spirit World*, but recently… it's been stirring."
"Klein can access Sefirah Castle. Let's hope he doesn't think he's the era's protagonist like Roselle," the High-Dimensional Overseer said casually. This wasn't impossible—He'd glimpsed such a "future" behind the curtain. The path to inheriting Sefirah Castle and defeating Celestial Worthy was fraught with traps; one misstep could lead to ruin.
If Klein veered toward Celestial Worthy's abyss, the High-Dimensional Overseer wouldn't stabilize his mind but would eliminate his "revival coins" and flee with the Door pathway. His favor for Klein stemmed from pre-transmigration memories, a shared era's kinship, and aligned interests. The universe was vast; the High-Dimensional Overseer didn't need Earth. His human memories were a drop in the ocean of His existence.
Setting the spherical container on the ground, vascular tendrils writhed on the "eggshell," nurturing a peculiar life. The True Creator eyed the busy High-Dimensional Overseer, curious yet wary. "What's this…?"
"A vessel for divine descent, to separate your madness while preserving your true god status," the High-Dimensional Overseer said, admiring the white eggshell beneath the flesh. In His unique vision, it wasn't a mere "sphere"—its unmanifested parts in high-dimensional space vaguely formed a humanoid shape.
Silence, prolonged silence. The True Creator seemed lost in chaotic ravings, but the surrounding darkness remained stable. The High-Dimensional Overseer watched patiently, curious about His intentions. Finally, the True Creator couldn't resist, opening blood-red eyes. "What do you want?"
"White Tower."
"…You've polluted the Hidden Sage and now seek more pathways?" the True Creator accused. The High-Dimensional Overseer merely scoffed. After another long silence, the True Creator said, "I can't give you more sequences. Even with an Old One's human soul… no, I can't even confirm you're truly our 'compatriot.'"
"I must ensure God Almighty doesn't emerge, dear True Creator. You know I dislike that dull guy—more than my grudge with Celestial Worthy," the High-Dimensional Overlooker's voice echoed from all directions. "If Adam weren't your half, I'd prefer the Visionary characteristic. Honestly, why doesn't He become the High-Dimensional Overseer? I bet He'd digest my Sefirot instantly…"
"…" The True Creator paused, then said, "I can leave Herabergen to you… but first, you must help me reclaim Sun. Swear under the Sun's authority not to harm Earth."
"No problem," the High-Dimensional Overseer said casually. "I don't care."
—How far will you go, True Creator? The Hidden Sage, seeker of secrets, is nearly mine. White Tower will enhance my eyes' viewing pleasure. The High-Dimensional Overseer mused, gazing at the True Creator, Amanises, and all living beings.
He didn't mind being bound or fear constraints. He was high-dimensional, from high dimensions, yet trapped by His lofty perspective. As a "human," He craved things beyond His imagination, watching improbable worlds unfold. He followed His Sefirot's instincts and human ones.
The High-Dimensional Overseer stubbornly sought eternal existence, forever watching lives that amused Him.
...
"…I see him," the High-Dimensional Overseer said, turning to a small "nightmare" at His feet. His avatar's mouth split into a grin. "Arranging me? Ince Zangwill, no wonder Amanises chose you, you fool!"
"Now, 0-08 is fish on the chopping board!"
(End of Chapter).