Mystery: When the Lost Homelanders Meet the Lost Homeland Call

The crimson moonlight seeped in through the gaps in the curtains, spreading a layer of pale red gauze across the wooden floor.

Leonard Mitchell reclined in his armchair, his long legs casually draped over the edge of his desk, a copy of the Backlund Daily News clutched in his hand. The headline read, "Southern Colonial Situation in Turmoil Again," but he didn't read a single word.

The room was quiet, with only the faint hissing of the gas lamp. Occasionally, a night breeze would slip in through the cracks in the window, ruffling the manuscript paper on the table. It was a poem he had written halfway through, about the sea and the moonlight, about a distant place he had never seen before.

The quality of the poem is not very good, after all, he has never seen the so-called "distant place".

"Old man."

Leonard suddenly spoke, his voice sounding somewhat abrupt in the empty room.

"Hmm." An aged voice echoed in his mind.

"You mean that powerful figure treated them to dinner? And with Klein's money?" Leonard's tone was incredulous as he pulled his feet off the table and sat up straight.

"Yes." Pales repeated, this time with a smile. "It's the restaurant near Iron Cross Street. The three of us ate five sule. We ordered the chef's recommendation for the day, and also added a dessert."

Leonard was taken aback: "How did you know? Didn't you say that powerful person could sense your presence? Last time you were caught spying by him."

A hint of smugness crept into Pales's voice: "Spying isn't limited to occult methods. There were so many ordinary people in the restaurant; I only 'borrowed' a small fragment of the waiter's memory afterward."

"Don't worry, I've already returned that memory. He won't even realize he lost his memory."

"...That's called stealing." Leonard frowned. This old guy is sometimes really unpredictable; he says not to mess with him, but he's quick on his feet.

"This is called intelligence gathering," Pales corrected, his tone matter-of-fact. "Besides, I'm helping you. Don't you want to know more about that mysterious powerful figure?"

Leonard opened his mouth, then closed it again. He really wanted to know.

But the old man's initiative made him feel that something was not quite right.

"And how did you know it was Klein's money? Divination?"

  

"It's the brain," Palles sighed. "I memorized the serial numbers of the money Orianna gave Klein."

Leonard paused for a moment: "...How did you memorize so much?"

Show some respect.

Leonard didn't dwell on the matter. He put his feet back on the edge of the table and tapped his fingers twice on the armrest of his chair, as if carefully choosing his words.

"So," he began, deliberately making his tone casual, "can you now ascertain the situation of that powerful figure?"

Pales did not answer immediately.

When he was spying on Lynn, he clearly sensed the presence of the fortune teller, the thief, and the apprentice. Considering Lynn's demonstrated abilities, which also fit the description of a mixture of the three pathways, the only remaining consideration was the allocation of these pathways.

Having Old Neil carry the items to transfer the main body is clearly the work of a soothsayer. Apprentice demigods don't need anyone to carry things for them; thief demigods usually use clones.

The most plausible explanation is that the diviner, a demigod, transformed a small animal into a puppet and entrusted it to someone else to carry, before the puppet's original form was replaced.

The Antigonus Notebook chose Klein, and then this powerful figure arrived and chose to educate him. Therefore, it is highly likely that Lynn is a powerful member of the Antigonus family, and one who has a high degree of family recognition.

The Antigonus family has long since declined, and such a powerful figure is most likely a remnant from ancient times.

Therefore, the most likely candidate is an ancient scholar—the ritual involves isolating oneself from history for three hundred years, and then consuming a magic potion after three hundred years. This is also the Sequence Three, which is most likely to survive among the three pathways, and it aligns with the Antigonus family possessing the Diviner pathway.

In addition to the ability he demonstrated to make his wishes come true... Pales believed that he somehow possessed the characteristics of a miracle worker angel.

As for the green flame, the Diviner's path has the ability to create illusions, so there's absolutely no need to think about it too much.

After a brief silence, the aged voice slowly spoke: "It's hard to say. His abilities are a mixture."

"A mix?"

"I observed that the abilities of sealed space, high inspiration and positional sleight of hand, and theft correspond to the three paths of apprentice, diviner, and thief, respectively."

Leonard frowned. Three paths? He instinctively lowered his leg and leaned forward.

"Isn't taking a different approach suicidal?"

"That's usually how it is," Pales said slowly, as if recounting an old story.

"But some pathways are 'adjacent'. Above demigod level, taking potions from adjacent pathways in the normal order will not accumulate extra madness. Of course, this is on the premise that you can resolve the contamination of the ritual and the potion itself."

Leonard nodded, but his doubts remained. The old man made it sound so easy, but crossing the road was a forbidden zone that had been repeatedly warned about during the night watchmen's training.

Pales's tone became somewhat subtle: "In the Quaternary period, there were indeed some great families that would cultivate such extraordinary individuals who transcended their means."

But in my thousand years of memory, he doesn't exist. Pales added in his mind, without saying it aloud.

"So what sequence is he in now?" he asked.

"Based solely on ability performance, the Thief pathway is Sequence 5 'Dream Thief', the Apprentice pathway is Sequence 4 'Mystic', and the Diviner pathway is Sequence 3 'Ancient Scholar'."

"In my current state, I can't utilize my decryption abilities to their fullest extent. My knowledge can only allow me to deduce this much."

At this point, Pales suddenly changed the subject: "But he should possess some kind of preserved angelic qualities."

Angelic traits?

Leonard inhaled all the cold air in the room into his lungs.

He waited for Pales to continue. But the old man stopped talking.

"What angelic traits?" Leonard pressed.

That trait is very likely what makes him a 'miracle worker'. Combined with his near-omnipotent ability... but such things can't be said lightly. Pales pondered to himself.

Moreover, I couldn't see through that seal; it seemed to come from outside the world.

The only thing I can't figure out is Mr. "Men's" handiwork. This matter is far too complex...

He possesses the characteristics of a mysterious servant; no one in the entire Fourth Epoch knows his whereabouts... Never mind, talking too much with this kid will only make him more likely to cause trouble.

"Guess." Pales's tone suddenly became lighthearted, as if he were teasing a child.

Leonard's lips twitched. He didn't like this feeling: the old man knew something, but just wouldn't tell him. Did he think he didn't deserve to know? Or was the old man himself unsure?

"Then why did he have to educate Klein?" Leonard asked tentatively.

Pales didn't answer directly. He paused deliberately for a moment before slowly saying, "It's indeed possible that the Antigonus family left behind such a trump card. After all, the time that powerful figure arrived in Tingen coincided with the time the Antigonus Notebook disappeared."

Leonard was taken aback.

What was the old man implying? He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was already clear: there might be a connection between Lynn's appearance and the disappearance of the notebook.

"A backup plan from the Antigonus family?" Leonard asked tentatively, throwing out his guess. "Is Klein from the Antigonus family?"

Pales hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying.

Leonard frowned. The old man's attitude seemed to be both tacit agreement and an indifference to correct him. He had a feeling that Pales was hiding more—such as the "seal," or which path that angelic characteristic corresponded to—but he figured he wouldn't get any answers if he pressed him further.

Never mind. He thought uncomfortably that it was the old man's business how much he wanted to say.

After a long while, Leonard spoke again.

"I've been thinking for a long time about whether what you said is true," Leonard said half-jokingly, but there was definitely a hint of probing in his tone.

The old man was silent for a moment, then let out a cryptic chuckle: "You don't have to believe me."

"...I believe half of it." Leonard leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on a corner of the ceiling, without pressing further. He knew the old man's temperament; if he didn't want to talk, he wouldn't get it out of him.

The room fell silent again.

The flame of the gas lamp flickered slightly, as if something had swept past the window.

"In short," Pales said gently, "his status is far above yours. Do not try to be his enemy, nor try to pry into his secrets. What you need to do now is to improve yourself and gain the attention of the Sanctuary. As long as the Church of the Goddess of Night notices you, that being will not easily take action against you."

Leonard remained silent for a long time.

He looked out the window at the crimson moonlight, at the blurry outline of Tingen City under the moonlight, and suddenly felt that the world was much bigger and more dangerous than he had imagined.

"I understand," he said softly, putting his feet off the table, standing up, and walking to the window.

His hand rested on the window frame, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"I will collect items or extraordinary materials related to the paths of the diviner, apprentice, and thief as soon as possible—didn't you say these things could help you recover?"

Pales grunted in response and said nothing more.

Leonard could sense that the old man's consciousness was slowly sinking, like a fish diving into deep water. He often couldn't tell whether Pales was truly tired or simply didn't want to answer his questions anymore.

The room fell silent again.

Leonard stood there for a long time, finally picking up the unfinished poem from the table. Moonlight shone on the paper, illuminating his hasty handwriting:

I dreamt of a moonless night.

The waves roared softly in the distance…

He looked at it for a while, then suddenly crumpled the manuscript into a ball and threw it into the wastepaper basket.

Forget it.

What's the point of writing poetry? You can digest it just as easily by reading it a lot.

He picked up his coat, pushed open the door, and stepped into the night of Tingen.

The crimson moonlight fell on his shoulder, like a silent question.

What exactly is Lynn doing now?

---

Lynn is looking for his boat.

"Where is my boat? Where is my big boat?"

"Can someone tell me how to fish without a boat?"