Chapter 62 - 62: The Eve

7 P.M. At the Duke of Negan's mansion in the Empress Borough of Backlund, a grand ball was in full swing. Guests gathered in small groups, chatting either seated or standing. Those hoping for a brief escape from the noise drifted toward the balconies attached to the main hall, gazing out over the gardens and the crimson moon in the sky. As the ball officially began, Audrey—the most dazzling gem of Backlund—naturally became the center of attention. Many young men hoped to invite her for the opening dance. "I'll be right back," Audrey whispered to her personal maid, Annie, before walking over to the Earl of Hall, who was being invited by several noble ladies. She smiled and said, "Father, may I have this dance?" "Forgive me, but I could never refuse my daughter," the Earl of Hall replied with a gentleman's bow as he politely declined the ladies' requests. He took Audrey's hand and led her onto the dance floor. With graceful familiarity, he moved to the rhythm of the music and chuckled, "Did your mother send you to rescue me?" "Not exactly. I just didn't want to dance with those so-called promising young men." "Hmm, compared to the princes, they're indeed quite lackluster. Have you been in contact with any of them lately?" Audrey frowned and groaned, "Oh, Father, spare me. I'm not even of age yet." "Heh, not for long." The Earl said no more, instead spinning his daughter in a flourish, ending with a striking pose that earned a round of applause. Meanwhile, Annie—the personal maid—kept her gaze discreetly roaming the ballroom, finally settling on a tall, fat man. He was the host of the evening's ball, the main supporter of the Loen Conservative Party and the kingdom's largest landowner—Duke Negan. That's right—Audrey's 'maid' Annie was in fact Edward in disguise, once again dressed in women's clothing. After finishing the opening dance, Audrey returned to Edward's side, slightly out of breath. She pressed her lips together and whispered, "Isn't it terribly dull? Honestly, I'm not the only one—at least half the people here feel the same. But they still attend ball after ball. That's the rule of high society in Loen: if you want to be part of it, you have to play by its rules." Edward glanced at a few young men approaching with wine glasses and smirked, "They seem to be enjoying themselves just fine." "Ugh! Those guys are so annoying. Let's run!" Audrey grabbed his hand and hurried off toward the corridor leading to the dining hall. Edward awkwardly lifted the hem of the maid's skirt as he moved, stumbling every few steps. Seeing Audrey walk so gracefully in her far more elaborate gown, he couldn't help but feel a little impressed—being a noble lady clearly wasn't easy. Soon, the two sat side by side at a corner of the dining table. Audrey held a piece of cake, eating each bite with elegant precision. Edward mimicked her, taking small bites of his own. "You know, I have to admit—the food here's pretty good." "One of Duke Negan's greatest passions is eating. His chefs might even outshine the ones in the royal palace." Audrey activated 'Spectator' mode, quietly observing every guest around them. She lowered her voice, "Do you remember who Qilangos is disguised as?" "I think it was some baron. But honestly, you don't need to recognize him. I already reported him to the Church of the Evernight. We're just here to watch the show. The moment Qilangos makes his move, someone will take care of him. I'm only here tonight in case things go south—so I can get you out fast." As they were speaking, a sudden boom echoed from the ballroom, followed by panicked screams from the guests. "Ahhh!!!" ——— One minute earlier. Qilangos never expected that this assassination attempt would be anticipated. The moment he released a Wind Blade and brought down the chandelier, the Goddess's Sword—Crestet Cesimir—appeared. This assassination was doomed to fail. Now, the only thing that mattered was getting out alive. An invisible ripple spread out from Qilangos, plunging the surrounding guests—ladies and gentlemen alike—into uncontrollable fear. They abandoned their hiding places and ran blindly in all directions, throwing the scene into chaos. Crestet, who had been charging straight at Qilangos, was quickly obstructed by the fleeing crowd. Taking advantage of the opening, Qilangos conjured a whirlwind around himself and sprinted, smashing through the door of a lounge and barreling toward a window. Bang! The window didn't shatter as expected. At some point, the glass had been turned into reinforced steel. The impact left Qilangos' forehead bloodied and his vision spinning. Crestet scanned the ballroom in surprise but couldn't locate the culprit who had tampered with the window. Gripping his bone sword tightly, he strode toward the fallen Qilangos, lightly biting down with his teeth. A gray-red wraith sealed within one of them shot toward Qilangos' head. Qilangos summoned another whirlwind and launched himself backward toward another window. His eyes flashed with electricity, scanning everyone around him—he was guarding against that hidden enemy. Crestet drove his bone sword into the ground. A shadow stretched rapidly toward Qilangos, filled with dry, black arms that clawed and groped with hoarse roars. This was his second sealed spirit—no, a wraith—one that had devoured many souls and become immensely powerful. Qilangos raised his gloved hand and cast Light of Holiness again, calling upon the power of the Priest of Light. But in the next instant, his left hand was suddenly severed at the wrist. The wound was clean and smooth, exposing bones, tendons, and flesh. A moment later, blood gushed out as he groaned in agony. That delay was enough—the wraith within the shadows leapt and struck him midair. Countless blackened arms gripped his body, tearing at his clothes, flesh, and skin with frenzied madness. "Ahhh!!" The cruel pirate let out a short, tortured scream. He summoned more wind blades to slice apart the ghostly arms. After a hard-fought struggle, he finally broke free, but his entire body was soaked in blood, barely a patch of skin intact. Stumbling to the ground, Qilangos gritted his teeth through the searing pain and rushed toward the woods across from the villa—the escape route he had mapped out beforehand. He knew that in his current state, with his mystical item lost and himself gravely wounded, his chances of survival were slim. But his overwhelming desire to live drove him to flee with all his might. The woods were just ahead. A glimmer of hope sparked in his bloodshot eyes. "Faster…just a little faster…If I can make it to the woods, I'll be able to…I'll be able to…" Just then, a figure emerged from the trees. He wore a robe embroidered with lightning patterns, his hair dark blue and tangled like seaweed, and his expression cold and sharp. It was an old acquaintance—Alger! "Long time no see, Qilangos." Before Qilangos could respond, Alger raised his revolver and fired at the pirate—who was already at the end of his rope. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Six bullets struck true—chest, legs, shoulders, forehead. Qilangos collapsed, dead. A faint trail of smoke rose from the wound in his skull, his wide-open eyes forever frozen in disbelief. "It's finally over." No one else knew that secret now. Alger exhaled deeply, pressed his hand to his chest, and murmured, "Praise the Fool." Then he disappeared into the dark forest. After crossing the woods and skirting a man-made lake, Alger had just left the scene when the world suddenly shifted. Everything in the dark became unnaturally vivid—the green of the trees greener, the red of the fruit redder, the blackness of the lake deeper. The world looked like a canvas splashed with oil paint. In the sky—where the crimson moon had been obscured—there floated countless indescribable, translucent figures and radiant lights of varying hues, each hiding mysterious knowledge. Alarmed, Alger's spiritual intuition screamed warnings in his mind as if he had stumbled upon some great and terrifying entity. "Who's there?!" A tidal wave of fear crashed into him. He tried to draw his gun—but couldn't even move a finger. "What's happening? A high-sequence powerhouse? But why attack me? Was it someone behind Qilangos?" A pool of pitch-black water formed at his feet and rapidly rose. A pale hand suddenly reached out from the depths and dragged him under. Alger didn't even have time to resist before he was swallowed. It's over… Just as that thought crossed his mind, the dark water spat him out. He regained control of his body. Frantically checking himself, he found no injuries. Then, a man wearing a top hat appeared out of nowhere. He had black hair and bronze-toned skin, with deep, weary eyes. The man frowned as he glanced at Alger and muttered, "Not here either?" He turned toward the brightly lit mansion, thoughtful. A breeze stirred the leaves around him—and he vanished. Only Alger remained, panting, sweat dripping like rain. "Who was that? What's he looking for? Was he after Qilangos too?" "But the only ones who should've known about Qilangos' whereabouts were the members of the Tarot Club..." "Wait, Mr. Tower did mention he informed the Church of the Evernight Goddess in advance. But that man just now was clearly a high-sequence powerhouse from the Death pathway—someone like that shouldn't exist in the Goddess's Church." "He didn't kill me, and it's unlikely he's someone backing Qilangos either. Then he…" A sudden thought struck Alger. Could he be one of the Fool's Blessed? A high-sequence Blessed who, after learning of our plan to take down Qilangos and happening to be in Backlund, decided to stop by out of curiosity? But Qilangos was already dead—why did he attack me then? Just to say hello? Make a joke? Or perhaps… A warning? That must be it! We had agreed I would notify the Church of Storms to apprehend Qilangos, but after confirming that Qilangos had lost his ability to fight, I hesitated to send the signal. Instead, I ambushed him alone to cover up the secret of that island. Could this have displeased the Blessed—or even Mr. Fool himself? A chill ran down Alger's spine. He instinctively lowered his head. ——— Inside Duke Negan's mansion, Audrey—who had just been watching her mother and a group of noble ladies discuss the earlier assassination attempt—noticed her father, the Earl of Hall, walking over. He first offered a few words of comfort to his wife before approaching Audrey and softly said, "It's been handled." Audrey, playing the part of a frightened young lady, lowered her voice and asked, "Who would dare attack Duke Negan in such a reckless way?" The Earl looked at her in silence for a few seconds, then replied, "Qilangos. A notorious pirate known as 'Vice-Admiral Hurricane.'" "Was he captured?" "Crestet Cesimir of the Church of Evernight severely wounded him, but the one who delivered the fatal blow…wasn't him." "Then who was it?" "We don't know." The corners of the Earl's neatly groomed mustache lifted into a subtle smile. "Do you know anything about it, Audrey?" "Huh?" Audrey widened her emerald eyes and blinked innocently. "If even you don't know, Father, how could I possibly know?" "Hehe." The Earl chuckled, then glanced around the room as if searching for someone. "Where's Annie?" "She wasn't feeling well…so she left early." The Earl nodded and gave his daughter a long, knowing look. Once again, father and daughter reached a silent understanding. "No matter what, be careful." "…I understand, Father." ——— When Edward returned to Tingen, Klein was already waiting for him. "Did everything go smoothly tonight?" "Mhm. Just as you told me, I arrived right as Qilangos made his move. Under the assault of Crestet Cesimir, he fled severely wounded. I took the opportunity to sneak in a couple hits—severed his left hand and took his magical item. Then I hurried back. Without that item, he's just a Sequence 6—escaping from Mr. Cesimir would be nearly impossible." "That's good." Just then, the world around them suddenly warped. Reds grew redder, yellows more vivid, whites dazzlingly bright—colors bled into one another like thick strokes of oil paint, forming a surreal image. And then a tall, dignified, middle-aged man appeared. He had bronze-toned skin, wore a black tailcoat and a silk half-top hat. His brown eyes held a weathered depth, and his facial features were gentle, with a small black mole below his right ear. It was Azik Eggers. "Mr. Azik? What brings you here? What happened to Qilangos?" Klein quickly introduced them, "Mr. Azik, this is my friend Edward—someone I trust completely. Edward, this is my most respected mentor, Mr. Azik." Azik removed his hat and nodded politely at Edward. His tone was calm and courteous: "By the time I arrived, he was already dead. His mystical item had also vanished." He paused, then turned his gaze to Edward and asked, "Do you have it?" Klein looked at Edward in surprise. "Uh…" Edward reluctantly pulled a squirming item from his coat—Creeping Hunger. "I picked this up when I sliced off Qilangos' left hand. Just grabbed it on instinct." Azik nodded. "I'm not sure if Klein has told you, but I'm currently searching for my lost memories. This item might help me recall something. Would you allow me to borrow it for study? Don't worry, I'll compensate you accordingly." "Of course, take it. I heard the item has a pretty nasty side effect—I was just wondering what to do with it." A faint smile appeared on Azik's face. "Thank you, Edward." Once Azik departed, Edward turned to Klein and asked: "Klein, is Mr. Azik a demigod? Or maybe…an angel?" "Most likely." "And…is he one of the Fool's Blessed too?" "Uh…" I wish. They walked together down the dimly lit street until they reached a fork. Edward came to a stop and asked, "By the way, I heard that before I joined, you guys took out a Beyonder from the Witch pathway. Did you channel the spirit? Get any formulas for the lower Sequences?" "Yeah, why?" "I want the Witch pathway formulas. Sell them to me." Klein thought for a second, then pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it over. "Take it. The Witch pathway involves pain, slaughter, and disaster—I have no intention of selling it. Keeping it serves me no purpose either. But be extremely careful. Don't let it fall into the wrong hands." "Oh, come on. Even blood brothers keep accounts. Not paying would feel wrong. How about this—100 Pounds per Sequence. That's 300 Pounds in total." Klein rolled his eyes. The formulas for Sequence 9 through 7 easily fetch close to 2,000 Gold Pounds on the black market, and you're offering me 300…while also acting like you're settling a debt. That's the kind of 'deal' I can hear echoing from miles away. So, he acted as if he didn't hear that, waved his hand, and said, "Go home. See you." ——— [2 Daffodil Street] Klein quietly opened the door and stepped inside. His sister Melissa was dozing off on the living room couch, while his brother Benson was reading the newspaper. Hearing the door, Benson looked up, and Melissa immediately opened her eyes. "You're back, Klein." Klein closed the door and removed his hat and coat. He frowned slightly. "Why are you still awake?" Melissa walked over, looking him up and down before breathing a small sigh of relief. "You got called out so suddenly and didn't tell us anything. How could we possibly sleep?" Though Benson said nothing, his eyes were filled with concern. Klein's heart warmed. A soft smile crept onto his face. "It was just a work emergency. They needed me to handle something—everything's sorted now." He paused. "This job of mine might bring this sort of thing often. That's why the pay's so good. Next time it happens, you don't need to wait up." Benson stood, smiling. "Understood. Oh, right—Melissa saved some warm milk for you. It's in the kitchen. Drink it before bed." "Got it." "Good night." "Good night." Watching Benson and the yawning Melissa disappear into their rooms, the tension that had gripped Klein all night finally melted away. This…this must be what home means. ——— [5 Tulip Street] Edward sat at the edge of the bed, holding a damp towel as he gently wiped Lilith's tiny paws clean. Lilith was unusually well-behaved tonight, sitting quietly and curiously watching his movements. Soon, however, her attention drifted to the fluttering corner of the towel. Her head bobbed up and down as she followed it, eventually reaching out a paw to bat at it. "All done. Nice and clean." Edward placed her onto the bed, then went to rinse her personal towel and hung it beside his facecloth to dry. "Meow~ (.-ω-)" "Ta-da!" Edward pulled out the slip of paper with the Witch pathway formulas and waved it in front of Lilith with a grin. "Lilith, once I gather all the ingredients, I'll brew you the Assassin potion." Lilith tilted her head, her tiny face full of innocent curiosity. "Meow~ (-^〇^-)" Edward glanced at the moon outside the window and murmured: "It's time to act." ——— [Note]: Here's the promised Extra Chapter. Enjoy~Oh, and no Extra Chapter tomorrow. Want to keep my Sundays a bit stress free. Still, you can VOTE~