Endless Debt Chapter 656 - 167: Divining Fate

"Welcome, seekers of knowledge from afar."

The Divination Master welcomed the two of them, waving his purple robe as a pair of hands covered in sores emerged, gently placing them on the small table in front.

A sweet scent rose from the incense burner, dulling the stench inside the wrecked ship’s remnants, but Bologue felt more vigilant rather than comforted by it.

Bologue had encountered similar tricks in the wandering crossroads, where the scent contained a mild nerve toxin—not enough to take down an adult, but capable of interfering with your consciousness to a certain extent, making you a plaything of the other party with just a bit of guidance.

Lebius said emotionlessly, "Are you sure you have the information we want to know?"

The Divination Master laughed hoarsely, the sound drifting through his robe like a cold wind through the corridors.

"You haven’t asked yet, how do I know?"

The ugly hands made a gesture of invitation. Lebius didn’t refuse and was about to pull out a chair to sit down when Bologue stopped him.

"I’ll go."

Bologue took Lebius’s place, sitting across from the Divination Master, while also communicating with Lebius through the whistle they carried.

"I’m the Undead. Even if something unexpected happens, it won’t matter."

The voice sounded in Lebius’s mind. Without Yuriel’s assistance, the range of their whistle communication had shrunk significantly, only allowing connection between each other and not reaching Geoffrey and others at the distant port.

Lebius felt a twinge of unease, "Mm, stay alert, I feel something’s off."

Aimou’s voice interjected, "It’s fine, with both of you there."

The Wrecked Ship Shore, although perilous like a savage, primitive Beast Fighting Arena, where people unabashedly unleashed their vile desires, saw Bologue and Lebius step into this place, marking them as top predators, the ultimate consumers in this ruthless food chain.

Visually, the two appeared to be holding just umbrellas, like travelers who had mistakenly wandered into this place, and in terms of force, these individuals boldly allowed an assassin squad to enter here.

Bologue briefly reminded, "Stay vigilant, Aimou."

"Mm."

The response echoed in his mind, while the rings in Bologue’s eyes began to dim and lost all their luster.

In this role reversal, Bologue somehow became the group leader, with Lebius saying nothing, standing silently behind Bologue like a regular guard.

"So you’re the one in charge?" The Divination Master paid more attention to Bologue, his gaze drifting to Lebius, "I thought you were the boss."

"Stop with the nonsense."

Bologue gazed intently into the darkness beneath the purple robe, his cold gaze probing the shadows with its inherent weight, even though Bologue couldn’t see the Divination Master’s eyes.

The Divination Master remained silent for a while, contemplating something unknown, without leaving and standing nearby, his greedy expression unmasked.

A peculiar atmosphere lingered between them, and amidst the pervasive smell of incense, the Divination Master unveiled the covering on the table, revealing a translucent, glowing crystal ball.

The Divination Master said, "Please place your hand on the crystal ball."

"Are you serious?"

Bologue furrowed his brows; this wasn’t what he envisioned for intelligence gathering.

"I’m a Divination Master. If I don’t divine fate, what else should I do?" said the Divination Master, "Besides, haven’t you come to peer into fate?"

The Divination Master’s tone carried a sense of antiquity, much like a wizard hidden deep within forest tales.

Bologue whispered inwardly, "He’s got issues, Leader."

"I’ve already noticed," Lebius replied, "Hert tricked me."

Bologue said nothing more; it was inevitably saddening when old friends became strangers. He obediently pressed his hand against the crystal ball, its cold touch akin to pressing on an ice block.

With Bologue’s touch, the crystalline clear crystal ball began to change, a gray storm gradually materializing within, with fleeting electric arcs visible.

This reminded Bologue of being cast into the Abandoned Land by the Thundercloud Qi, except this Thundercloud Qi contained a genuinely poised thundercloud storm.

"Interesting."

Bologue became interested, then said in his mind, "This thing has a slight ether reaction. It appears to be an alchemy armament."

Aimou asked, "An alchemy armament with self-cycling capabilities?"

"It should be."

Some special alchemy armaments automatically collect ether scattered in the environment without needing additional ether for activation and can start up on their own.

This type of alchemy armament is quite common in the Order Bureau since Condensers are ultimately in the minority. To support this vast extraordinary organization, most of the employees in the Order Bureau are ordinary people. They cannot resonate ether themselves, so they have to use these self-cycling alchemy armaments for work.

After this category of alchemy armaments emerged, the Order Bureau’s work efficiency greatly increased, but it also allowed ordinary people to possess a certain degree of extraordinary power, resulting in many disturbances each year. The Field Operations Department was always dispatched to recover these alchemy armaments.

Bologue also read the news that one country within the Narrow Countries has started trying to classify alchemy armaments as military equipment.

Alchemy armaments that allow ordinary people to have an effect are not too powerful in themselves, but as their number accumulates and they integrate into the army, they can also influence the battlefield situation.

This clearly violates the Ethereal Agreement. By the time Bologue read this news, the King’s Secret Sword had already resolved the situation and resealed alchemy technology.

In preventing the expansion of extraordinary warfare, the King’s Secret Sword and the Order Bureau surprisingly took similar stances. No one wants the world to face a second time of scorched earth wrath.

Fixated on the crystal ball at the moment, Bologue was somewhat interested in divination.

"Please imagine your question in your mind."

The Divination Master’s voice was slow and lazy, almost lulling people to sleep.

Bologue pondered the question of the tenth group’s location.

The crystal ball beneath his hand began to change, first swirling with a storm, then raindrops emerged, turning into raging waves. Low temperatures arrived, and the liquid inside the sphere gradually froze into solid ice; the next moment, brilliant sparks ignited, evaporating the ice, transforming back into a storm.

This was the elemental cycle Bologue had read about in books. He hadn’t expected such a small device to have so many tricks. Bologue considered bringing one home as a bedside night light.

"Do you have your answer yet?"

Bologue urged, having kept his hand on the ball for quite a while, yet the Divination Master seemed mute, producing not a sound.

It was certain now that something was wrong with Hert, with this divination being just a guise. However, judging by the Divination Master’s manner, he seemed to genuinely be trying to divine for Bologue.

After a while longer, the Divination Master suddenly pulled back his hood, revealing an ugly old face, stripping away any mysterious aura.

He anxiously patted the crystal ball, his gaze flickering repeatedly between Bologue and the crystal ball.

"Is there... any problem?"

Bologue frowned; the Divination Master seemed to have some sort of disease, covered in pustules all over his body, even on his face, very similar to another hunched man.

To be precise, the entire wrecked ship remnants were filled with some kind of pathogen, and those who stayed there for long would more or less develop such symptoms.

Disease was quite normal for sailors; they traversed everywhere and brought the illness to unfamiliar lands.

Historical records mention such events, where people in a certain region coexisted with a disease for years, developing resistance. One day they voyaged to another land, and the locals could not withstand the disease they carried, leading to a massive plague.

"I can’t see your fate, how is this possible?"

The Divination Master questioned Bologue intensely, judging by his agitated demeanor, Bologue felt the Divination Master was not playing tricks with him, but Bologue’s appearance might have genuinely disrupted his professional understanding.

"In other words, you can’t read anything, right?"

Bologue did not wish to waste any more time, feigned anger, slapped the table, and stood up forcefully.

At the same moment, the booming sound of gunfire echoed, Bologue turned and waved his hand, a swarm of snakes gathered along his sleeve into his palm, forging a blade, which clashed with the speeding bullet, sparks flying.

The blade twisted further as Bologue waved it, then an iron spear whistled, piercing through the rusty, fragile, decaying metal board, and subsequently perforating the enemy behind it.

The Divination Master was stunned in place, shattered bullet fragments sliced his cheeks, pus mixed with blood covered his eyes.

Lebius had vanished, but when the Divination Master became aware of Lebius again, he was standing where the hunched man had just been, maintaining a kicking posture.

The next second, a vague shadow veiled the Divination Master’s vision. The illustrated man screamed as Lebius kicked him back against the divination stand, colliding together with the table, crystal ball, and Divination Master.