“Help me request a leave of absence from the school.”
Klein bowed slightly toward Dita and said,
“I’m still feeling a bit unwell today…”
Dita’s brow furrowed at once, and a note of suspicion crept into her gaze as she looked at Klein.
She took a step back, her expression turning guarded, and pointed a finger at him.
“You’re not going gambling again, are you?”
“How could I?
I just slapped Cicero’s face, why would I still…” Before Klein could finish, Dita raised a hand and cut him off.
“Do you think I haven’t read Cicero’s On the Soul?”
Klein promptly put on a puzzled expression, at least as far as his current memories went, the scholar really hadn’t read the writings of this so-called friend and partner in debauchery.
“Has alcohol truly ruined your mind…
Though, I suppose the old you would never have read such heretical nonsense.”
Dita waved her hand dismissively:
“He’s a madman, a lecher.
He claims that the human body is a tool for the soul to pursue experience, and that the human soul descends from the metaphysical world into the material world precisely to acquire sensory experiences.”
“He believes a person’s soul must obtain enough rich sensory experiences, must pursue sensory stimulation without restraint, and go experience everything in this world firsthand, whether joy, happiness, or pain and torment, only then can the soul truly attain wisdom, embark upon the path of transcendence, and return to the metaphysical world to achieve sublime detachment.”
“That madman would only treat the two punches you gave him as some novel new experience…
From the look on his face just now, I’d say he was actually rather pleased.”
“…” Listening to Dita’s words, Klein suddenly missed Inquisitor Greyfax terribly.
Inquisitor, come quickly!
There’s a heretic right here, hurry and send him to the pyre!
Truth be told, Klein had already felt something was off about Cicero just now.
Looking at it again now…
Cicero, why do you seem so…
Slaanesh-purple?
Just those red leather shoes of his had struck Klein as wrong.
That forest hunter was skilled at working the pelts of all manner of animals.
When Klein was in the woods, he had skinned more than a dozen animals with his own hands.
But those red leather shoes of Cicero’s were unlike any creature Klein knew.
If he had to say, they somewhat resembled monkey skin…
but the pores were not nearly so numerous.
Could it be human leather…
Klein grew increasingly suspicious that he belonged to that Slaanesh-adjacent god of the Warp, the one whose name begins with Lust and ends with Excess.
However, in Klein’s memories from his previous life, Macragge had never experienced any chaos incursion, nor had there been any trace of cultist activity.
And the veil around Macragge was astonishingly thick.
Last night Klein had sensed that this veil was far denser than that of the Hive City.
When the four moons sank and the sun rose, the thickness of the veil rose even further, to the point of becoming somewhat abnormal.
One could only say Macragge had its reasons for surviving the Old Night.
Klein still remembered Greyfax’s teaching.
Suspicion is stronger than evidence.
A single suspicion can outweigh a thousand pieces of evidence.
Signs of cultist activity mean stupid heretics have exposed themselves.
No signs of cultist activity mean those damn heretics are trying to evade chastisement.
The reason he wanted Dita to take leave on his behalf was also because he intended to conduct a little investigation.
“I really am not going to the casino anymore.” Klein rubbed his temples and assured Dita, “I swear to you on my honor as your uncle.”
With those words, the suspicion on Dita’s face only deepened.
After all, this scholar had previously done things like elbowing Dita in the face just to shake her off and go to the casino.
And according to Klein’s memory, that bastard had pulled stunts like that more than once, which was in fact another thing Klein found suspicious.
The scholar’s personality had shifted far too quickly.
But in the end, Dita still sighed.
Perhaps remembering her uncle’s better qualities from before, she finally managed to squeeze out a sliver of trust.
“I’ll take the leave for you.
But if I find out you dared to go to a casino…” Dita shook her fist viciously at Klein.
“I promise you, I swear in the name of the Lord of War.
If I lie, may I descend into the Eight Hells…
tsk…” Having just finished swearing in the traditional manner of Macragge, Klein sensed something was off again.
The Lord of War was a title of the Archons of Macragge, a title handed down since Macragge’s first Archon, and moreover a part of Macragge’s religious beliefs.
Those Archons who bore the title of Lord of War were deified after death, receiving unified worship and priests under the name of Lord of War.
Those who betrayed or defied the Lord of War’s will would descend into the Eight Hells.
This title, combined with the Eight Hells…
was that Khorne upon his Skull Throne in the Warp?
“Fine.
Your voice was pretty hollow when you swore that oath, but I’ll take the leave for you.” Dita nodded, a little exasperated but also a little indulgent.
A faint smile appeared on Klein’s face, and then…
“Any spare funds?”
“Could I borrow a little more money?”
Dita’s expression froze.
The muscles on her cheeks twitched uncontrollably, and her fist abruptly clenched.
“Wait wait wait, just a bit of pocket change.” Klein waved his hands.
“I left home without money and I want to buy a few things…”
Hearing this, Dita lowered her hand, which she had already raised.
She pulled a few copper coins from her pocket and pressed them into Klein’s hand.
“I’ll give you six As.
Buy tonight’s dinner while you’re at it, two loaves of bread and something to make soup with.”
“If I go home tonight and you’re not in the apartment, I’ll shove an entire loaf down your throat…” As she spoke, Dita gave a truly savage look.
Klein repeatedly assured her that he would absolutely be home on time before Dita finally let him go.
And then…
She raised her hand and slapped herself across the face, hard, several times, frightening the passersby into steering well clear.
“Dita and her uncle are actually decent people.
They’re just both a little…
mentally unstable.”
“Yeah…
her uncle was pretty normal before he picked up gambling, too.”
“Has Dita always been a little…
volatile?”
As she heard the whispered murmurs around her, Dita’s expression twisted further.
“Dita, oh Dita, what possessed you?
Why did you bring up using Father’s pension to pay off his debts…
That was your dowry.”
Dita muttered quietly to herself:
“What if he takes the money and gambles again?
What if…”
But in the end, Dita only gave a bitter smile.
She had still been hesitating, still wavering…
But when that madman Cicero reached his hand toward her, when she was so afraid,
Klein’s fist slammed into Cicero’s face…
In that moment, Dita recalled how Klein had always protected her younger self just like that in the past.
She remembered the way her uncle had stood before her, driving away the relatives from her mother’s side who lusted after her father’s pension.
It truly seemed as though he had swept away the deterioration of the past few months, reverting to that uncle worthy of trust, even worthy of her admiration.
In that moment, Dita even had a hallucination…
As though a certain golden light burst forth from her uncle’s body, just like…
just like the marble statue of the god in the church.
And so, Dita chose to trust him.
To trust Klein.
Just then, as Klein walked toward the marketplace, his psychic power rose slightly.
His reflection in the Warp brightened a little too, as if some force had flowed into him.
But because this body had yet to cross the Warp and Macragge’s veil was too thick, he failed to perceive the change.
“I wonder if I can buy papyrus or parchment in the city…” Klein muttered as he headed toward the marketplace.
He had no intention of investigating Cicero blindly, walking into danger without knowing anything.
His plan was…
to simply ask the Emperor directly.
(Translated by yourtl.app)