"..."
This thing's personality is just outright rotten.
Stephen's mind raced. "Wasn't the whole reason you agreed to be this 'Cleya's' bodyguard because you were interested in her? If you really don't intervene, aren't you worried she might die?"
"So she dies. Whatever."
Amon shrugged. "I'm interested in her because Amenisis seems to be paying her some kind of special attention. What I'm curious about is what the Evernight is up to."
"But if Amenisis herself doesn't care whether she lives or dies, that means Amenisis doesn't actually care that much about her either. If the Evernight doesn't care, why should I?"
That actually sounded reasonable, and Stephen found himself unable to argue against it, for the moment.
Truthfully, Stephen wasn't especially invested in whether this "Cleya" lived or died either. But the real problem was — once the ritual was complete and the evil god descended, what would happen to Backlund? How many innocent people would die because of it?
Having grown up in this city, Stephen might crave freedom, but he still held real affection for the place — he didn't want to see it drowned in bloodshed.
"By the way — didn't you say before that there was something about this 'Cleya' that drew your interest?"
Stephen quickly came up with another angle. "Don't you want to figure out what that thing actually is?"
The smile on Amon's face faded slightly. "Oh, that. I've already pretty much figured it out."
"What is it?"
"It's... not something I'm going to tell you."
"..."
If Stephen had control of the body right then, he'd have been grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. "So, whatever's drawing your interest — is it actually useless to you?"
"Quite the opposite — it's one of the most important things there is, to me."
"Then why don't you—"
Amon smiled faintly. "Because it's too much of a coincidence, too obvious. There's an old saying I heard once, long ago — nothing falls from the sky for free. Especially when this person's tangled up with Amenisis besides — that just makes me even more cautious."
"This... who exactly is Amenisis?"
"Oh? Haven't I told you? She's the one you all usually call the Goddess of the Evernight. Might as well tell you the others' names too, while I'm at it. That Tyrant is called Leodro, the Eternal Blazing Sun is called Osecus, the God of Knowledge and Wisdom is called..."
Stephen cut him off quickly. "Stop, stop, stop. I genuinely don't want to know the Seven Gods' true names."
Instinct was screaming at him — this was the kind of thing that could get you killed!
"Ooh, seems like something interesting's about to happen."
Amon suddenly turned his head toward one direction, an amused look crossing his face. "Didn't expect today to get quite this lively."
Klein, meanwhile, watched with growing panic as the witches set up their ritual around him. Nearby stood the demigod-level witch Clarisse — he knew he had absolutely no chance of resisting.
All he could do was hold himself steady and wait for an opening.
He kept trying to reassure himself: if the Church had deliberately used him as "bait" to draw out the Witch cult's operation, surely they'd already prepared for this, would show up at the right moment, and rescue him.
But he couldn't help the doubt gnawing at him: he was, after all, being used as the very vessel for that evil god's descent — could Sage Anthony, or the Church, really stop this in time?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, Clarisse arched a brow slightly, her voice calm. "Katerina."
"Here."
Katerina, in a white robe, her hair long and black, stepped out of invisibility.
Though both of them were Sequence 3 undying witches, Clarisse's standing was far above hers — as a direct descendant of the Primordial Witch, and the actual leader of this operation, Clarisse was, by rights, her superior.
"Watch this place. I'm going to go greet our guest."
"Understood."
Clarisse gave a small nod, her figure flickering as she stepped outside into the manor grounds. She lifted her sorrow-tinged eyes, and instantly, spider silk, black flame, and plague surged outward in every direction.
At the same time, she pulled out a mirror and gently tossed it toward the building behind her. The whole structure flickered, then abruptly turned illusory and flat, no longer quite real — hidden away into the world within the mirror.
Right at that moment, a man appeared — white shirt, dark blue coat, hard, sharply defined features. He lifted his chin slightly, wearing an air of contempt for everyone around him, blue eyes glinting with playful mockery:
"I hear you've got a Conqueror's Beyonder Characteristic in your hands?"
He extended a hand. "Never actually seen one before. Mind letting me take a look?"
Clarisse said flatly, "Unfortunately, you're a step too late. The 'Conqueror' characteristic's already been taken."
"Really? I don't believe you."
The man spread his hands. "Doesn't matter either way — our Chairman's already off chasing it down. Me, I'm just here to try my luck."
He glanced toward the building now concealed within the mirror world, feigning curiosity. "You seem awfully protective of that house. Something good hidden inside?"
"Mind if I take a look?"
The man suddenly lunged forward, breaking into a sprint. "Doesn't matter if you mind — I like taking things by force! Hahahahahaha!"
RUMBLE!
Two Sequence 3s — witch and Hunter — collided violently, and the entire Red Rose Manor shook from the impact.
Meanwhile, in the manor's sunroom.
Edsac Augustus stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his expression indifferent as he gazed out ahead, the sounds of the two powerhouses' battle echoing in his ears.
He knew perfectly well that, with his own frail body, even the faintest brush of the shockwaves from their fight would be enough to kill him on the spot.
A haze of confusion lingered in his eyes; for a moment, he couldn't quite pinpoint when, exactly, his own manor had turned into a battleground for these Beyonders.
He vaguely recalled — it seemed to have started not long after he'd brought Trellis back to the manor. Things around him had grown steadily stranger and stranger, as if some invisible net were quietly closing in around him.
Not until Trellis fled had that feeling faded, somewhat.
But it hadn't been long after that — at some salon gathering, he'd inexplicably brought home a woman even more beautiful than Trellis, and that feeling had come rushing back, even stronger than before.
Except, until today, he hadn't felt any of it at all — he'd simply been lost, utterly consumed, in that intoxicating, insubstantial beauty.
Tap.
Light footsteps sounded behind him. Edsac didn't turn around, saying flatly, "Didn't I tell you all — leave me alone, don't let anyone disturb me?"
But the footsteps behind him kept drawing closer, and closer still.
Fury flared in Edsac's chest, and he spun around sharply. "I said—"
A familiar figure came into view. It was Trellis.
He froze for a moment, thrown into confusion. "You... why did you come back?"
Trellis looked at the man before her with a complicated expression — this man she'd once shared a bed with. She was silent for a moment before saying, "You're going to die. Did you know that?"
"...Is that so?"
Edsac's mood barely shifted. He simply nodded. "I'd more or less guessed."
"Do you know the truth of things?"
"What truth do you mean? My father's scheme? The true identities of the people in this manor? Or... are you..."
He paused, then continued, "Are you a witch?"
Trellis blinked for a moment, then a mocking smile crossed her face:
"Then do you happen to know — I used to be a man. My real name is Tris."
"..."
Edsac's pupils contracted slightly. "So — you came back specifically to tell me this 'truth,' just to get revenge on me, to humiliate me?"
"I... I really want to say that's why."
Trellis's expression grew even more conflicted, murmuring almost to herself. "But I think I must have gone mad, or maybe I've been hypnotized again, without even realizing it, by some Visionary Pathway demigod, to end up making such a ridiculous decision."
A pale, ghostly smile crossed her face. "I... came back to save you."
To be continued…
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