KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess-Chapter 209: [] Two Steps Ahead of a Bad Day

Nolan nodded. "I’ve mapped their patrol routes, anticipated their strategies. I knew they’d send White Ravens three days before they arrived. I predicted the Inquisitor’s path weeks ago."

"That’s why you’ve survived," Naomi said. "You’re always one step ahead."

"Two steps, actually." Nolan offered a thin smile. "But it comes with a price."

"What price?" Margaret asked gently. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

Nolan turned away, adjusting something on one of his contraptions. "To maintain this level of ability, I need to remain... underestimated. Dismissed. Forgotten." His voice grew quieter. "I have to embrace being nothing in their eyes. The moment I become a serious threat—the moment they truly fear me—my power begins to fade."

Xavier understood the psychological burden immediately. To be strong, Nolan had to accept, even encourage, others seeing him as weak. His greatest strength came from his greatest insecurity.

"That’s why you hide here," Xavier said. "The ruins themselves feed your ability."

"Yes. The Archivist sees humans as temporary, insignificant creatures. Its dismissal alone gives me enough power to predict the Court’s movements across the entire region."

Ashley approached the map, her golden fractures casting strange shadows across its surface. "The Archivist. Old Ren mentioned it. What exactly is it?"

"Not what. Who." Nolan pulled a book from a nearby stack. "The Archivist was once the head librarian. During the Collapse, when the tear in reality appeared over the library, he performed a ritual to contain it. He sacrificed himself, becoming one with the tear, transforming into something neither human nor divine."

"And now he collects knowledge," Margaret said.

"Knowledge, memories, souls—anything that contains information." Nolan closed the book. "He’s not evil, exactly. Just... beyond mortal concerns. He lets me stay because my predictions amuse him."

Xavier examined the map more closely. Red lines tracked movement across the territory, converging on several points before spreading outward again. Blue markings indicated safe paths, while black X’s marked dangerous areas.

"This is impressive work," he said. "But if you can predict their movements so well, why not just leave? Find somewhere safer?"

Nolan’s expression darkened. "Because running won’t help. Not anymore." He pointed to a specific area on the map. "The Inquisitor isn’t just hunting me. He’s hunting all of you."

A chill settled over the group.

"What do you mean?" Naomi demanded.

"Your group isn’t the first to come looking for me," Nolan explained. "Three weeks ago, someone else arrived at Dustfall asking questions."

"Who?" Xavier asked.

"I’m... I’m not sure." Nolan touched his chest. "But the Winter Court captured him. The Inquisitor performed some kind of ritual, extracting information."

"About us," Ashley said flatly.

Nolan nodded. "About all seven displaced souls. The Inquisitor now knows who you’re looking for, where you might go next." His finger traced a path on the map. "He’s not coming here for a fight. He’s coming to set a trap."

"When?" Xavier asked.

"Tomorrow night." Nolan pointed to another contraption—this one resembling an astrolabe with crystal fragments where stars would be. "My calculations are precise. The Inquisitor will arrive with eight White Ravens at moonrise."

Naomi cursed under her breath. "We walked right into this."

"Not yet," Nolan corrected. "But you will if you stay. The ravens are already positioning themselves around the ruins. By dawn, they’ll have all exits covered."

Xavier exchanged glances with his companions. "We’re not leaving without you, Nolan."

"And we still need to find Calypso," Margaret added. "She was separated from us when the ruins shifted."

"She’s possibly with Lorna."

"Can you take us to her?" Xavier asked.

Nolan hesitated, glancing at his map. "Yes, but it means crossing through the Archivist’s domain. It’s dangerous."

"More dangerous than the Inquisitor?" Ashley asked.

"Different kind of danger. The Inquisitor wants to capture you. The Archivist wants to catalog you—extract your memories, your knowledge, everything that makes you unique."

Xavier felt the King’s Gaze stir at the back of his mind, suddenly interested in this entity that collected information. He pushed the alien presence away, focusing on the immediate problem.

"We’ll risk it," he decided. "We need Calypso, and we need to get everyone out before the Inquisitor arrives."

"There’s something else you should know," Nolan said, his voice dropping. "The Inquisitor isn’t coming alone. He’s bringing someone else. Someone who can control the winter itself."

"Who?" Xavier asked.

Nolan’s face grew grim. "I don’t know his name. But in my visions, he appears as a young man with white hair and red eyes. The White Ravens call him the Winter Prince."

Xavier felt something cold and heavy settle in his stomach. The description triggered nothing specific, yet it plucked at the edges of his memory like fingers testing a frayed tapestry. A white-haired youth who commanded winter itself... something about that felt disturbingly familiar.

"How reliable are these visions of yours?" he asked, studying Nolan’s face for any hint of uncertainty.

"Ninety-seven point eight percent accurate," Nolan answered without a moment’s hesitation, adjusting his glasses with one finger. "Give or take point three percent for variables I cannot adequately account for in my current mathematical models."

Naomi whistled softly through her teeth. "Those are some damn good odds in this business. Better than the stock market."

Nolan methodically gathered items from his cluttered workspace—a small leather pouch filled with intricate tools, several crystal fragments that pulsed with faint blue light, and the oddly designed crossbow.

"If we’re going to reach our friends and escape before the Inquisitor arrives with his winter-wielding companion, we need to move immediately." He pulled a rusted lever beside his workbench, and several of the mysterious contraptions around the room began whirring more rapidly, lights blinking in complex patterns. "I’ve spent weeks—months, actually—preparing various escape routes through the library’s hidden passages. There’s one path that might still remain uncompromised, but I should warn you..." he glanced at each of them in turn, "it won’t be particularly easy."

"Nothing ever is," Xavier muttered.

Nolan offered a thin smile. "That’s why they underestimate us. And why we’ll win."

He led them toward a narrow doorway hidden behind a stack of books, pausing to extinguish the crystal lights with a small device from his pocket.

"Stay close," he whispered as darkness fell around them. "The Archivist’s servants are drawn to sound and movement. And whatever you do, don’t touch the crystal growths. They’re how he collects memories."

Xavier unsheathed both his daggers, feeling their comfortable weight in his hands. "Lead the way, Professor."