Becky was careful, however, to keep her silence about the part related to William’s connection to the Mystic Arts secretive.
His recruitnt of her to his cause was a private matter; the knowledge of the true Mystic Art community was still a deep secret running through the upper realm and the smaller realms attached to it. She wasn’t about to be the one to spill that secret.
"We need to send soone back to inform our leader," the oldest master suddenly said, turning on his heels. "I’ll do it. The rest of you stay back here and keep helping the Fox Guild in their war against those bastards. Do not let a single bear breathe near our Anna."
The words were spoken like iron orders. Soon enough, that old master retreated through the gate, returning to the Floating Castle to stand at his leader’s side. He explained everything in great detail—the Porter’s origin, the fallen Lingerie, the captured mother of Sara, and the sheer efficiency of the Fox Guild.
"Interesting fellow, this William is," the leader of the Blue Purgators mused, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the arms of his seat. He was considering a thousand variables at once. "And you say he looked weird when he saw my Anna? Were these Bernard’s words about his behaviour back then?"
"Yes," the old master nodded solemnly. "I cannot explain the difference, yet he acted bizarrely from the mont she appeared. The way he looked at our Anna, the way he asked those weird, personal questions about her being an only child... And then ending it all with a spirit oath to protect her? My lord, I cannot link the dots about this kid anymore! He acts as if he knows her, yet they have never t."
"Leave him be," the leader suddenly said. He raised his head, taking in a deep breath and exhaling a long sigh. It was a sound that felt as if a great, crushing burden had finally been lifted off his chest.
"But... How?!!" The old master was stunned. He had known the leader for far too long not to read his mind; he could tell the leader was feeling more relieved than worried, more satisfied than curious. Most importantly, he didn’t seem to doubt William’s intentions for a single second.
"Are you familiar with the Fate Readers?" the leader asked, shifting the topic out of the blue.
The old master blinked. The Fate Readers were well-known, though often dismissed by the powerful. They were one of the many fake fronts placed by the Mystic Arts masters in the upper realm, claiming they could read the thread of the future and decide major events in one’s life according to the plans of fate.
William had once t one of them accidentally—an encounter that had led him to discover the existence of the Mystic Arts community in his world. By a strange twist of destiny, a similar encounter had happened to the Blue Purgators’ leader years ago, though his eting had been restricted to a reading of his personal future and the fate of his lineage.
"Twenty years ago, I t one of them, and he claid to read my fate," the leader’s voice trailed off as he looked toward a distant past. He recalled being a young, ambitious master, full of fire and pride.
He rembered the eting vividly—the dark room, the sll of incense, and the weird, shocking words he had heard back then. He rembered venturing out of that building feeling more enraged than anything else, convinced the man was a fraud.
"He claid lots of things, and yet, despite how crazy they were, they all happened," the leader took in a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the shimring blue banners that adorned the stone walls of the Floating Castle.
He looked at his closest friend, the man who had bled beside him in a dozen wars, before adding in a low, gravelly tone, "One of these was related to the fate of my family—how I would lose them.
Another was the fate of becoming the leader of the Blue Purgators, a title I never desired back then. And you know what he prophesied about this exact mont?"
"..." The old master didn’t know what to say. His throat felt dry. It was the first ti in decades that he had ever heard such a story from his lifelong friend. There was a vulnerability in the leader’s voice that he hadn’t heard since they were both young acolytes.
And yet, he knew his friend enough to tell he wasn’t lying; he wasn’t faking the gravity of what had happened. That realisation left him burning with a desperate curiosity to know what that mysterious Fate Reader had said about their current predicant.
"That man said the force I’ll lead will fall into a deadly trap one day," the leader continued, his fingers tracing the hilt of his sword.
"A trap that has no way out unless a certain person decides to walk down a dangerous path since his early days in the world. He claid that even the heavens themselves could not read the fate of that person once he walked down this path—his thread was tangled and rewritten—yet he knew one thing for certain: he would be young.
He would co from a lower realm, yet he’d carry all the burden of the upper realm and other smaller realms over his shoulders. He would carry their fate, our fate, and he’d be either the hero to save all of us, or the criminal who’d end up leaving all of us dead."
"This..." The old master paused, his mind reeling as he tried to grasp every layer of aning behind the mysterious words. He looked toward the window. "Are you referring to William, perhaps? It fits too perfectly to be anyone else."
"That man said this person will be known by certain features that can’t be mistaken." The face of the leader changed, his expression becoming deathly serious.
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