Chapter 57: Anderson's Message
Hearing Enber's words, Anderson was genuinely surprised this time and asked in confusion, "How did you know?"
Enber imitated his earlier manner and smiled. "I'm not telling you."
Anderson's expression froze for a moment before he sighed helplessly. "Since when did people like you also gain the talent of a Hunter?"
Sensing an underlying meaning in his words, Enber raised an eyebrow and asked back, "People like us?"
Is this guy actually here for me? Hmm… he's also a traitor to the Church of Knowledge… wait—why did he say 'also'?
"That's right. You and that old 'Prophet' are the same—both complete charlatans!"
Anderson deliberately emphasized the words 'Prophet'.
"If you have something to say, say it directly."
Enber didn't want to keep playing riddles. More importantly, Anderson clearly lacked the talent for secretive contact—his expressions and tone were already more suspicious than a straightforward confession.
Anderson shot him a calm down look, then glanced around and said to the others, "I need to discuss some private matters with this gentleman."
Seeing this, Aetis shrugged and tactfully said to Enber, "My employer needs me. I'll go check on them. We'll talk later."
He turned and left, but his attention never truly left Enber—any sudden change, and he'd rush back immediately.
Xio looked at Enber. Only after receiving a slight nod did she say, "I'll go pay a visit to the captain."
Once both had left, Anderson said to Enber, "Come with me."
Enber hesitated. Recalling the abilities of a Hunter Pathway Sequence 5, he judged that even if he couldn't win, he could still escape using his sealed artifacts. Only then did he shoulder the sword case and followed Anderson.
They made their way to the first-class cabin Anderson had booked. Only then did Anderson began speaking, "Relax. I was passing through West Balam and was entrusted by an old man to deliver something to you—along with a message."
While listening, Enber surveyed the cabin, discreetly confirming the locations of windows and escape routes, before asking, "West Balam? What did he ask you to bring me?"
Based on his knowledge of the original novel, Enber already had a vague guess as to who this "old man" was.
"The item is this invitation letter. Take it."
Anderson pulled out a stack of papers and handed them over.
Enber accepted them carefully and skimmed through at high speed, soon frowning.
The letter invited him—after he became a Mysticism Magister—to visit West Balam for academic exchange, complete with a specific address. "That old man may act mysterious all day, but he's not a bad person. As long as your results are good…"
Anderson paused, then added, "Your learning ability should be decent, right? If not, you'd better not go looking for trouble."
Since the invitation letter wasn't sealed, Anderson clearly knew its contents. But Anderson had misunderstood. Enber's frown wasn't due to the invitation itself—it was the deeper implications behind it.
He thought silently. If my guess is right, that old man is likely the Church of Knowledge's representative stationed in West Balam possibly the demigod backing the resistance in the original story.
If I really become a Mysticism Magister, I'll indeed need massive amounts of arcane knowledge and spell theory. Exchange would be necessary…
My teacher helped me master mysticism quickly, my rituals always receiving near-perfect responses—yet never crossing a line. And now there's an invitation from a colonial mysticism expert… The God of Knowledge and Wisdom seems very present in my life, yet deliberately avoids leaving obvious traces of that connection.
That's right. My teacher once reported my progress to Lunburg several times, hoping to send me for further studies—but the response there was cold. In hindsight, it must have been because He didn't want my growth to carry too obvious a divine imprint.
Enber stopped himself from thinking further.
Speculating about a god's intentions at his current level would only lead to confusion.
After steadying himself, he looked at
Anderson again. "I've received the item. What about the message?"
Anderson gave him a strange look and complained, "Calling it a message is generous. It's more like a news briefing."
"A news briefing?"
Enber was surprised—and intrigued.
"Let's hear it."
"The Listener took his child in search of the
sanctuary."
"A member of the Einhorn family falsely claimed, in the name of the Dusk Admiral, that the key was in Damir."
"The Iceberg Admiral killed an Aurora Order envoy."
Anderson recited the three messages. He'd pondered them for days without understanding their meaning.
But to Enber, they perfectly filled every missing link in his previous deductions, allowing the entire chain of events in Damir to snap into place.
The Aurora Order Listener took his child toward the Forsaken Land of the Gods in search of the True Creator's sanctuary. This was the prelude to the City of Silver's opening of the gate to the Dark Angel's resting place—and couldn't be allowed to fail.
Thus, someone—likely from the Psychology Alchemists or that nameless organization—spread false information, luring the Aurora Order envoy into breaking Damir's seal.
As a result, the Punishers were drawn away by Damir's monster outbreak. The Listener's ship successfully reached the Forsaken Land. Meanwhile, the red-haired woman of the Einhorn family likely revealed the true location of the key to the Aurora Order…
So that sunken ship hid the Black Iron Key from the original novel! And the reason I never encountered the Aurora Order envoy was because the Iceberg Admiral had already killed him.
That Black Iron Key should now be in the Iceberg Admiral's hands, just like in the original story.
This is the calculation of gods and King of Angels… Even knowing the original plot, I still needed this "message" to reconstruct the full truth.
At that moment, Enber suddenly felt something within his body dissolve and fuse completely with his spirit.
No one needed to tell him—his Student of Ratiocination potion had fully digested.
Yet there was no joy, only a bitter smile.
Even this… was within the gods' plans?
How terrifying.
Far away, in West Balam, within the resistance general's residence, an elderly man wearing a plain white robe threaded with brass-colored lines rose to his feet.
His hair was completely white, meticulously groomed. His gray-green eyes were so deep they seemed bottomless.
Sensing something, he first offered several devout praises to the deity before smiling.
"Anderson did a good job."
He took out a worn notebook and lightly drew a line across the page with his fountain pen.
Back aboard the White Agate, Anderson—who had been about to ask Enber what those messages actually meant—suddenly froze for two or three seconds.
He snapped back to his senses, looked at Enber who was still standing there absentmindedly, and asked in confusion,
"Why are you still here?"
(End of Chapter)