“Thank you for taking the time to see me.”
I was invited to join a man sitting at a table. It looked like he had been deep into his studies, with piles of books stacked on the table like towers. It was clear from the covers of the books that hadn’t yet been worn out that most of them were related to Outsiders.
The man cleared his throat once he had collected and organized the books scattered across the table in front of him. He then clasped his hands together and placed them on the table.
“I apologize for the messy welcome. I’m referred to as the ‘Saint’ in my studies of Mysticism.”
Saint, huh. I wonder if it’s not the typical saint, like a holy figure, but more like the ‘achieved’ kind of name. But then again, this might just be a translation that’s made for my understanding.
“I’ve heard a lot about your achievements lately, Sir Tanton, and I’ve always wanted to meet you.”
“I haven’t done anything particularly noteworthy, really.”
“Your humility is part of what makes you perfect. But there’s no need to hide it. It’s well known that Sir Tanton is among the finest of the sages who can even tend to Outsiders.”
Listening to his words, something suddenly irritated me like a thorn. Tending to Outsiders?
“What exactly do you mean?”
“Oh dear, I’m sorry. That was inconsiderate. This should have come up slowly during our conversation, but I got so excited. You’re someone who’s left such a great legacy with us.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Do mystics just like to beat around the bush like this? Despite acting as if I knew nothing, the Saint only smiled awkwardly and said something shocking.
“Haha, there’s no need to hide it from us. We already know that you’re looking for information about the ‘Interrogator’—even that you’re looking for the ‘children’ related to that Interrogator, and that you’re personally caring for one of them.”
I couldn’t help but be shocked at the mention of the Interrogator.
How on earth did these people know that?
Seeing my baffled expression, the Saint just smiled.
“I’ve heard you’re acquainted with Agartha. We’re closely connected with her, which means we can’t not know about you too.”
“Agartha?”
“Didn’t she mention that she employs mystics?”
Ah, hold up.
Suddenly, something Agartha said flashed through my mind.
‘There are times when some mystics don’t care about their own lives.’
Agartha…!
Why didn’t you mention something so important…?!
She knew so much about the Dragon Slayer because her mystics were her subordinates!
Even so, don’t go around spilling confidential stuff to your subordinates!
Seriously, she’s got to be Rondan’s best talent at being infuriating.
I could just imagine Agartha winking and making a V with her fingers.
When I take Asti to the market, I should definitely make sure she leaves with a bump on her head.
“Anyway, she talked quite a lot about you, Sir, to the point where it was a bit unsettling when she said she wanted to know the color of your underwear.”
That crazy thief!
Did she really try to find that out?!
Why is it that this world only has people who are decent yet have a few screws loose in their heads?
“There was once a time when we managed to find that out.”
“You already know! That’s a crime, you crazy folks!”
“What does it matter? It doesn’t wear out if someone sees it.”
I wanted to say, “If you die, Rondan won’t fall; shall we throw you to an Outsider?” But I decided to hold back since it takes two to tango.
While I stared at the Saint with displeasure, for some reason, they let out a feeble chuckle.
“It’s just a joke. That person said Sir Tanton is quite amusing, and I couldn’t help but play along.”
“…Really. This is my first time dealing with such things on a first meeting.”
“I apologize. I’ll try to restrain myself in the future.”
He says that, but his smile was still full, making me think he’s quite the eccentric himself.
“Let’s finish up with the small talk.”
With that, the Saint adopted a serious expression, as if ready to embark on a lengthy dialogue.
After going on about something strange for so long, he just writes it off as small talk.
“I have a request for you, Sir Tanton.”
“A request?”
A mystic making a request of a knight, huh.
What in the world was he planning to say? I focused intently on the Saint’s words.
“We’re investigating an Outsider called the Record Keeper.”
It turned out to be a topic far more intriguing than expected, and I wanted to hear more about it.
#
“You’re aware that the hierarchy of Outsiders is divided, right?”
“Yes. I mean, there’s Outcast God, then there’s Outsiders like Middle-level Outsiders.”
“And then, there’s also the High-level Outsider.”
With a sense of emphasis, the Saint spoke as if this was the most crucial piece of the puzzle.
“In reality, the concept of High-level Outsiders is something that even the residents of Rondan only generally recognize to exist, but they don’t seriously contemplate the concept itself.”
“Yes, that’s likely the case.”
High-level Outsiders are typically dealt with by the Knights or are rarely seen entering Rondan, so residents don’t necessarily need to venture into the Gardener’s garden or underground Prison.
In fact, the first encounter would have been Bell, who appeared right in the middle of Rondan due to my blunder.
“My group is investigating exactly that. In reality, the most threatening and distant of Outsiders are on the scale of High-level Outsiders. Yet, people are clueless about the most fearsome entity. At this rate, they wouldn’t even survive an attack from a High-level Outsider that might come someday.”
He recited this with what seemed like an emotional undertone.
Whether it was due to a weird excitement or euphoria, I had no means to know.
“So why are you particularly interested in the Record Keeper?”
“It wouldn’t be in the Knights’ Standard Education, so it’s natural that Sir Tanton wouldn’t know.”
The mystic nodded and looked at me with a piercing gaze before slowly beginning to speak.
“The Record Keeper stands at the very top level among the High-level Outsiders.”
I couldn’t help but be surprised by his words.
That green blogger?
The Saint perhaps realized what my expression implied and lifted a corner of his mouth into a subtle smile.
“Indeed, when you read what the Record Keeper leaves behind, you might think, ‘What kind of language is this?’ But it’s actually true.”
Saying this, the Saint took out a pen from his pocket and laid an old piece of paper on the table, starting to write something.
“Look here. Typically, we lump these overwhelmingly powerful Outsiders together as High-level Outsiders. However, among High-level Outsiders, we have a tier system. In our group, we’ve divided these tiers as Regional Level, Planetary Level, and Idea Level.”
He began writing the words Idea Level, Planetary Level, and Regional Level sequentially.
“Let’s use well-known High-level Outsiders as examples.”
With that, the Saint began writing some strange foreign words next to the Regional Level label.
While I blankly stared at his hand, wondering what he was writing, remarkably, as soon as the writing was finished, I could read the text.
“Fiore Afshiti?”
“Oh…! As expected of Sir Tanton, you can read this text. No need to worry about the letters looking strange halfway through. It’s a natural phenomenon since the process, up until reaching the result, is chaos itself for Outsiders.”
It seemed like he had said that to ease my mind since I appeared confused halfway through.
Upon hearing his explanation, I could somewhat understand the mechanism of the Cook’s dishes.
When food is made in the Outsider’s fashion, if it deviates even slightly from the outcome, it reverts to chaos itself. There’s no way a human can withstand consuming such a thing.
The Saint, smiling at me while I was lost in thought, pointed at the text with his pen.
“That’s correct, Fiore Afshiti. It means ‘withered flower’ in one of the languages. From this, you might have a rough idea of which Outsider this is, don’t you?”
Withered flower.
Out of the Outsiders I knew, only two had anything to do with flowers, and among them, only one was a High-level Outsider.
“So the name was Fiore.”
When I voiced this, it felt as though an Outsider somewhere in my mind flinched greatly, but whatever.
In truth, Bell, being a dog, wouldn’t necessarily have a name, but for humanoid Outsiders like the Gardener, it seemed only natural to have one.
Since uncovering a human’s name might not be beneficial for an Outsider, and vice versa, it seemed unnecessary to ask.
Well, now that we both know enough about each other, a name is no big deal.
“The Gardener, a Middle-level Outsider who acted under this name, falls under the Regional Level. This is because they can’t influence much beyond their realm of activity. Although on a personal force basis, they are fairly Planetary Level. But for our purposes, that’s not the point.”
With those words, he continued jotting down names rapidly, and next to the Gardener’s name appeared the Cook’s name, ‘Paura Fame.’
Fear, hunger, those were the meanings of the two words, I think.
I thought they certainly lived up to their name like the Gardener.
However, one thing struck me as odd.
Starting from the Planetary Level, the names were penned as nicknames like ‘Watcher’ and ‘Dragon Slayer’ instead.
“Oh. Why are those written as nicknames?”
“I’ll explain after I write everything down. This is another characteristic of Outsiders.”
Having said that, the Saint quietly compiled the Outsider list, noting down even unknown ones like ‘Creator’ and ‘Lifekeeper’ under the Idea Level.
Once he finished writing down names I’d never heard of before, the Saint stopped his pen and cleared his throat to straighten his voice.
“Now, the important part begins.”
His mouth moved to begin an explanation.
“This story aligns with the reason we are pursuing the Record Keeper.”
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