The illusory tide in his mind had blocked the Black Knight's fatal strike for Silas, but because of this, the tide had temporarily severed its connection with him.
He was able to successfully invoke The Fool and establish contact with this mysterious existence.
And The Fool was quite perceptive, deliberately taking advantage of the fact that the tide in Silas's mind had not yet recovered to immediately bring him to His "divine kingdom."
Gray-white mist quietly drifted beneath his feet. Time seemed to have ceased flowing within this ancient palace.
That figure shrouded in gray fog sat upright behind a bronze long table. Facing Silas's respectful greeting, He merely let out a soft laugh.
"No need to be so formal. Just call me Mr. Fool."
The other party said, his voice echoing through the palace.
"Very well, Mr. Fool."
Silas readily complied and, at the other's indication, sat back down in his chair.
He observed quietly, feeling that this Fool's figure merged with the palace and gray fog as one, appearing lofty and magnificent yet restrained and profound.
He wasn't like evil gods who couldn't wait to flaunt their might with bared fangs and brandished claws, nor was He like orthodox gods who maintained a reserved, aloof distance from their believers.
He simply sat behind the long table, observing everything happening in the mortal world with restraint and calm.
As if He had been waiting for eons.
It seems The Fool's status is at least that of a true god, Silas thought to himself.
He had invoked The Fool originally just to counter the True Creator, thinking it sufficient as long as The Fool was the True Creator's enemy.
But now it appeared this Fool was far more composed and reliable than he had imagined.
Just as Silas was secretly evaluating The Fool, he suddenly heard the other party let out a soft laugh.
"Heh heh, I truly didn't expect a lucid Shepherd to pray to me. Snatching you from the 'Fallen Creator's' hands will probably displease that fellow."
The Fool said thus.
He called the True Creator the "Fallen Creator." Why would He say that?
Could it be that the True Creator was actually what the original Creator became after falling?
In an instant, waves surged through Silas's heart, but this didn't prevent him from rising again and bowing his head to the other party in respect.
"Yes, thank you for providing assistance. If not for you, I would have already become that evil god's believer."
"Enough. As I just said, you needn't be so formal.
For those who pray to me, I don't mind lending a hand when convenient," The Fool said.
"Especially in matters concerning that Fallen Creator."
"Lending a hand" by dispatching three angels?
Silas remained noncommittal.
He hadn't forgotten the conclusion he'd reached when role-playing as a Secrets Suppliant: one could trust a deity's power but not a deity's mercy.
He felt The Fool's purpose might not be simple. Perhaps He opposed the True Creator, or perhaps it was related to the peculiarity within himself. But for him, none of this mattered.
As long as He could help him kill the True Creator and complete his revenge, being used was of no consequence.
"Mr. Fool, can you save my sister?"
Thinking this, Silas's tone became somewhat more respectful. He spoke earnestly, "She offered her life because of my ritual. Now only her soul remains within my body."
By now he had understood that the soul within him that he couldn't command belonged to Cecilia.
That was why the false "Cecilia" could use an Assassin's abilities, and why his own flesh and blood instinctively protected it.
The Fool was a deity. Perhaps He truly had a way to save his sister's life!
If He could save Cecilia, what did it matter if he truly became The Fool's believer?
Hope's light sparked in Silas's eyes, like a traveler in the desert spotting an oasis.
"..."
However, from within the gray fog across from him, that Fool remained silent for quite a long stretch of time, then slowly shook his head.
"Regrettably, I am neither omniscient nor omnipotent, and I do not hold authority over resurrection."
He said.
The light in Silas's eyes quickly dimmed.
The traveler in the desert discovered that the so-called oasis was merely a mirage, an illusion he couldn't approach no matter how much strength he exhausted.
"However, perhaps when your own level of life has been elevated, you won't need help from others and will be able to save your sister yourself."
Yet The Fool quickly gave him new hope.
Elevation of life level.
Wait, could The Fool be saying that when my Sequence advances, I'll have a chance to save Cecilia?
Silas absorbed the other party's information, his brain beginning to race.
The first line of the True Creator's honorific name was "the Lord who created everything."
Creation! Could it be that using that bastard evil god's authority, he could create a perfect body for Cecilia?
It seemed truly possible!
But that fellow hated him bitterly now, and he absolutely couldn't bow his head to Him.
Unless he elevated his own level, until he usurped His authority, replaced His divine nature, and became the true god of this pathway.
In that case, Cecilia would have hope of resurrection!
Based on Roselle's diary provided by Klein, he already knew about the "pathways to godhood" and the "Blasphemy Slate," knew that the apex of the Sequences was true godhood.
Having thought all this through, Silas's heart suddenly felt clear.
For revenge, he had already planned to completely overturn this Sequence.
Now, with the added purpose of "saving his sister," hatred for the evil god and love for his sister would simultaneously drive him forward.
Though becoming a god was a path of nearly hopeless difficulty, he had already decided to walk it to the end.
"Thank you for your guidance, Mr. Fool. You are the beacon lighting my way."
Silas expressed his gratitude to The Fool without sparing praise.
"Heh heh... no need to thank me."
The Fool let out a soft laugh.
"I can provide you an opportunity to grow stronger. I've organized a gathering for a group of people similar to you, people with various purposes.
Every Monday at three in the afternoon, they hold their meeting here with me."
A gathering held under a deity's gaze...
A wave of emotion passed through Silas.
He immediately understood the other party's meaning and hurriedly asked, "Mr. Fool, do you mean I can also participate in the gathering?"
"Of course."
"Please, allow me to join."
Silas said.
"Very well."
The Fool nodded slightly, then tapped his finger.
On the table surface before Silas, a stack of cards facing downward immediately materialized.
"The organization's members use Tarot cards as codenames. These are what remain. Draw one yourself."
Silas reached out without much concern and drew a card from the middle of the deck, turning it over.
When he saw clearly the image on the card's face, he couldn't help but pause slightly.
A red-winged angel stood barefoot above a stream. The angel's expression was calm, pouring clear water from one chalice into another.
[Temperance].
What was this supposed to mean? Was it reminding him to control the madness in his heart, not to let anger cloud his judgment?
Silas couldn't help but laugh wryly.