Klein’s expression turned a bit frustrated.
Before the knock sounded, he had failed to catch the footsteps outside the door.
The physical condition of this body was not good.
The golden flames from the Golden Throne had reshaped this body from every cellular level, but only into a healthy state, stripping away the damage alcohol and prolonged sitting had done to the scholar’s body, without actually enhancing his physical capabilities.
This body was inferior to the diviner who had clawed his way through the Underhive and then been rigorously trained by Greyfax, and even more so compared to the body of that forest hunter.
That forest hunter’s body…
looking back on it now, it was truly extraordinary.
Back then, Klein’s senses were sharp enough to detect the faintest sounds in the forest, to distinguish the footfalls of every kind of beast, to leap easily onto tall trees, his running speed enough to rival that of agile wild animals…
and yet he had been just an ordinary forest hunter.
Awakening the body’s memories often required external stimuli.
That forest was nothing but an endlessly extending jungle, and Klein had not managed to awaken many of the hunter’s memories.
Now, thinking back carefully on that forest full of bizarre giant beasts and wild animals, and the hunter’s physical abilities that far surpassed ordinary humans, could it be…
that it was Caliban, the homeworld of the Primarch Lion El’Jonson?
The moment he considered that the hunter’s body had been a Calibanite superhuman, Klein immediately felt that the scholar’s physical condition was the reasonable one.
That cursed place was crawling with giant beasts warped by the Warp’s influence, creatures that even a demigod like Lion El’Jonson had to expend some effort to deal with.
He had even treated Kairos Fateweaver, the Exalted Greater Daemon of Tzeentch who attacked him, as just another ordinary Calibanite giant beast, which showed just how insane the scaling of that hellhole Caliban was.
And the rite of passage for the local mortal knights of Caliban was actually hunting a giant beast…
to accomplish that, those knightly lords of the forest had even learned to handcraft power armour, power swords, chainswords, and bolters.
Being a hunter in that cursed place, no wonder the hunter’s physical abilities and hunting skills were so terrifying.
Klein pondered as he waited.
The knocking outside grew more urgent.
Klein focused his mind and gathered his energy, and the hunter’s skills began to function again.
Greyfax’s teachings also started to help him make judgments.
The sound of breathing outside, the force of the knocking, the pacing footsteps of impatience, all of it wove together in Klein’s mind to form an image of the person beyond the door.
The person outside was likely female, aged between sixteen and twenty, around one meter seventy in height, weighing roughly forty-five kilograms, in good health.
The knocking was both urgent and hesitant, as though she was unsure whether anyone was inside the room.
Only when the knocking ceased and the person outside seemed to conclude that no one was within, her footsteps suggesting she was about to turn and leave, did Klein step forward to open the door.
It wasn’t that he was being cautious, it was really just PTSD.
Back when he was the diviner, that wicked woman Greyfax always loved to ambush Klein out of nowhere, training his precognitive abilities.
But he had to admit, Greyfax’s training had indeed saved Klein several times…
even though in the end, Klein had been screwed over by his own precognitive abilities anyway.
The door opened, revealing the woman’s back to Klein.
She was indeed around one hundred and seventy centimeters tall, tall and slender.
Her long black hair fell over her white belted tunic, cascading all the way down to her waist, bound at the ends by a hair tie that swayed gently with her movements.
When she heard the door open, she froze for a moment, then quickly spun around.
Klein saw that her still-youthful face had been marked with worry,
but the instant she saw Klein, her expression twisted into fury.
“You’re back?
Why didn’t you open the door?
You went out gambling again last night?!”
The girl practically lunged at Klein immediately, trying to grab him by the collar.
Klein instinctively stepped back and sidestepped to evade.
The girl brushed past him and charged into the room, her footing unsteady.
She nearly crashed to the floor.
Klein reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her fall.
The girl clenched her jaw, glaring at Klein with a gaze equal parts frustration and anger.
“Let go of me,” the girl said, her voice sharp.
“Have you said thank you?” Klein asked, his expression unchanged.
The girl’s face instantly scrunched up.
She shook her wrist, trying to break free of Klein’s grip, but unfortunately for her, she failed.
And Klein simply looked at her.
“…Thank you.” The girl forced the two words out, as laboured as if they weighed a thousand pounds.
But Klein still did not let go.
He merely continued, “What do you call me?”
“…” The girl let out a heavy breath.
“Thank you, Uncle Klein.”
Uncle…
The word, having successfully baited her, triggered Klein’s memory.
He remembered now.
This girl was his niece, the child of his brother who had died in battle.
Klein’s brother’s wife had passed away early.
The brother himself had been conscripted into the war against the barbarian tribes of Illyrium, following Archon Konor to war, and had died in that far northern land.
Not even his body had been left behind, only a pension and the nine-year-old child he had left behind, the girl now standing before Klein.
“Dita.” Klein released Dita’s hand.
He also noted something else.
The girl called him Klein.
This was intriguing.
It seemed that the diviner’s name also being Klein was no coincidence.
One could only assume this was the great work of the Emperor himself.
Most likely, the existence of Klein had already completely replaced that scholar in people’s perception.
This was perfectly normal.
The Warp was a dimension of will, and with his near-infinite psychic power, the Emperor could twist such perceptions with ease.
He did not know how far this replacement extended, but Klein guessed it was probably on a global scale.
If he had a choice, Klein would much rather this powerful psychic power be applied to more practical matters, for instance, granting him Primarch Magnus-level psychic power right now…
Dita put some distance between herself and Klein, then, as if venting her rage, kicked the wine bottle lying on the floor.
The bottle flew into a corner of the room, producing a crisp clink.
At the same time, Dita saw the half-severed rope lying on the floorboards…
Dita’s expression froze.
She looked up and saw the other half hanging from the ceiling beam.
Finally, she turned her head and saw the still-visible ligature marks on Klein’s neck.
“What are you trying to do?” Dita’s voice became very small, full of fear.
“I opened a little door to the Golden Throne.
My head got in before I realized the rest of me wouldn’t fit.” Klein sensed the atmosphere growing a little gloomy and tried to lighten it with a joke.
Dita clearly didn’t understand what the Golden Throne meant, but Klein’s tone enraged her.
She let out a low, furious snarl that for an instant reminded Klein of the beasts in Caliban’s forests, then she rushed at Klein with terrifying speed, a heavy slap aimed straight at his cheek.
Klein had thought he’d just let her hit him to vent her anger, but unfortunately, the forest hunter’s instincts and Greyfax’s training kicked in, making him naturally sidestep and evade.
This damn dodge button.
If I don’t disable it, it’s going to screw me over sooner or later…
Klein thought as he watched Dita, once again brushing past him, lose her balance and lurch toward the wooden table by the window.
Klein stepped forward, meaning to catch Dita, but she steadied herself against the wooden table.
She turned her head and looked at him.
Guilt showed on Klein’s face as he considered how to apologize.
“It’s fine.” Dita perceived the guilt on Klein’s face, and the anger on her face ultimately dissolved in helpless resignation.
She sighed, turned around, leaned against the table’s edge, and braced her hands on its surface.
On her still slightly plump oval face, her somewhat thin lips pressed slightly together, revealing a faintly bitter smile.
“If it weren’t for…” Dita raised a finger and pointed at Klein’s neck.
“If it weren’t for this today, you’d at least be in a much better state than the last few days.
You didn’t even stay out at the gambling den all night, I couldn’t even find you at the school.”
Much better than the last few days…
Klein’s expression froze.
In his memory, he saw the image of Dita trying to stop the scholar from going to the gambling den, only to be elbowed in the face by him and fall to the ground.
No way, bro, that much Mamba Mentality?
Wait, that doesn’t add up.
In Klein’s memories, the scholar used to treat Dita pretty well.
How did things deteriorate so fast in just these few months?
Is gambling really that ruinous?
Truly, never touch gambling or drugs!
Just as Klein had figured out how to express his apology, Dita’s fingers, resting on the table, brushed against that stack of promissory notes.
She looked back with some confusion and picked up the stack.
“These are promissory notes?
How much do you owe…”
Dita’s expression froze the very next second, as soon as she saw the amounts on the notes.
“One note alone is over a thousand denarii?
The first repayment deadline is the twentieth of next month?”
“Are you insane!
Do you want to become a debt slave?”
“Whoa, so slavery is still a thing!”
(Translated by yourtl.app)