"Vesper, move!!!!"
"I beseech Thee to bless this water, that it may become a medium of grace; bless all Thy children who immerse themselves within it by faith, washing away their sins, strengthening their belief, and granting them health of body and prosperity of spirit..."
Vesper's voice was calm and clear, a jarring contrast to his usual listless demeanor. He sounded as though he were merely reciting a bedtime prayer he had known since childhood.
The moment his words fell, the fine "water needles" and scattered spray instantly calcified into deep-blue ice. Even the plummeting boulder was frozen mid-air, looking like a prehistoric insect trapped in amber. Everything in the sewer came to a grinding halt.
"Hmm?"
The misty figure let out a soft hum of confusion. She clearly hadn't expected Vesper to neutralize her attack so effortlessly.
But in the next heartbeat, the tiny droplets of condensation on the stone walls—clinging there due to the damp, cold air—seemed to be stripped away by an invisible hand. They transformed into countless sharp "bullets" and whistled through the air at the speed of actual gunfire, converging on the deep-blue ice and Vesper beneath it from every conceivable angle.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
Under the relentless, machine-gun-like barrage, the surface of the massive ice block was instantly mapped with web-like cracks. Then, it shattered. The ice and the boulders it held turned into a chaotic avalanche of jagged shards, pouring down toward Vesper like a collapsing glacier.
"O chosen people, we stand here today not for worldly pleasures, but to witness a divine mystery. This frozen water is the living fountain of grace; in the name and authority of the Most Holy Trinity, it shall be consecrated..."
The falling debris suddenly erupted with a brilliant, kaleidoscopic light, reminiscent of midday sun streaming through a cathedral's stained-glass windows. The radiance momentarily turned the dim sewer into a hall of light.
"This is..."
Claire watched Vesper from above, her frantic searching for another test tube freezing in place. Amidst the roaring "avalanche," the shadows cast by the irregular stones shifted. In the space where Vesper stood, the gaps in the light aligned perfectly to form a high-intensity cross, emitting a jet-like spray of ice mist.
The mist didn't disperse randomly. As if possessed by a life of its own, it expanded in an instant, taking the shape of six blurred, magnificent wings. Centered on the cross at Vesper's feet, they unfurled upward, forward, and to the sides with explosive force.
"Well, that is certainly an unexpected development~"
"Therefore, this water is no longer cold, but an extension of the Jordan. This icy tomb is no longer dark, for its cruciform shape proclaims the hope of eternal life—to die, be buried, and rise again with our Lord. This is to walk with God, to suffer with God, to love with God..."
Completely ignoring the saccharine voice, Vesper seemed entirely immersed in his own world. He continued to murmur as if no one else were there, while the environment continued to warp around him.
Crackle... Snap!
The sound of rapid, bone-chilling freezing filled the air. Wherever the ice mist touched, the ancient brick walls were instantly coated in thick white frost. The drainage grates were sealed shut, and even the surface of the flowing channel began to sprout spreading sheets of drift ice.
Above Vesper, the falling rocks and ice that should have buried him were cleaved by the expanding wing-shaped mist. It was as if a pair of giant invisible hands had swept them aside, sending them crashing into the channel to smash against the new ice. The narrow waterway was now almost entirely choked off, with only a trickle of water seeping through the cracks.
"I see I see little brother... that mask of yours is a 'self-suggestion' type spiritual item, isn't it?"
"In the long night before the birth of script, language was a contract carved into teeth and imprinted upon the soul. Using stories as arrows and words as the bowstring to complete one's own consecration, calling forth the trajectory of grace from the void—this is the 'Thousand-Word Arrow'."
Vesper's voice echoed like a liturgical chant beneath a cathedral dome, leaving Claire and Jack stunned for a moment.
In their memory, the artisan named Vesper was a notorious "problem child." But just now, his pious tone and posture made his silhouette overlap with the most devout priests and monks they had ever seen.
Though they didn't fully understand what was happening to him, they were experienced combatants of Necessarius. They quickly snapped out of it and exchanged a sharp look.
Claire pulled two more slender tubes of ash-blue powder from her clutch and hurried toward Vesper, ready to intercept any sudden threats. Jack, wary of the "uncertainty" of his own spells, decided to take a preventative measure instead.
"Some studies are destined to be engraved in the ancient scrolls of permafrost, rigid laws, and heatless flames. Heritage is a shackle, breakthrough is a shackle, even the new sprouts are entwined with the roots of the snowy plains. This is the Enlightenment of the Principle of Frozen Soil!"
Jack's voice rang out as he followed Claire to Vesper's side. His eyes were locked onto the misty figure, which seemed to have grown sluggish due to the plummeting temperature.
As his incantation finished, the "cracking" sounds in the channel intensified. The blockage of stone and ice was sealed shut, and even the unaffected sections of the water were glazed over with frost.
As if by design, the ice now covered a significant stretch of the visible area. It wasn't meant to block the water, but to serve as a motion-sensor; any movement in the water would be immediately visible on the frozen surface, preventing the mist-woman from using any more hidden tricks.
The misty figure merely "watched" them. No new attacks came. The mist forming her silhouette wavered slightly, as if silently mocking their vigilance.
"Your goal from the start wasn't to kill us, but to stall for time, right?"
Vesper spoke suddenly. His voice through the mask was flat, carrying an air of detached indifference that cut through the freezing air. It wasn't a question or a challenge; it was a statement of fact.
Jack frowned, about to ask for clarification, but Vesper continued in that same level tone. His gaze seemed to pass through the misty figure, focusing on the dark depths of the tunnel behind her.
"The emergency lights in the maintenance hatch, the small floating debris in the channel, the condensation on the walls, even the wear and tear left by time... these subtle 'interferences' have a limited effect on a highly trained, hyper-focused magician. They're almost too small to notice."
He raised his right hand—the one not holding the briefcase—and gestured lazily toward his two companions.
"It's like someone used to heavy seasoning failing to taste the subtle nuances of ingredients. Magicians with natural resistance wouldn't feel the anomaly. This method... it feels like it was designed specifically to filter out people from the 'Magic Side'..."
"But you were very quick to notice, weren't you, little brother? Does that mean you aren't a magician? Or perhaps"
Jack, still holding his steel balls, ignored the provocation. His brow furrowed as he processed the implication of Vesper's words. He whispered the possibility:
"You mean... her target is a normal person? A collector or a noble with no ties to the Magic Side?"
"It's the only possibility that makes sense. For example, at the climax of the auction, someone suddenly goes mad and smashes a glass? Then dozens of people stand up and start brawling? Or someone stands up and hysterically declares Northern Irish independence?"
Vesper listed these disastrous scenarios with total nonchalance. There was even a hint of dark anticipation in his voice which, combined with his "steady" tone, made him sound like a well-hidden sociopath. Claire felt a reflexive shiver.
"A tiny bit of chaos is enough to force a high-level auction to pause or cancel. The goal is to stop the sale so you can't bid on the 'target.' As for what they plan to do after that... I wouldn't know."
Vesper paused, then added with a tone that fluctuated between admiration and annoyance:
"To be honest, it's clever. And efficient. Even if she runs into a 'hard target' like us that she can't handle, she can just withdraw. Her true body isn't anywhere near here. The reason she stopped attacking is probably because this 'clone' is almost out of mana anyway."
"Oh my, oh my... I've been seen through~"
The saccharine voice returned, this time with undisguised, almost cheerful amusement.
"Little brother, you're quite something Such careful observation, such a quick mind Really, you've made big sister here too embarrassed to keep playing~"
Vesper let out a barely audible "tch." His voice was muffled behind the mask, but Claire and Jack were close enough to hear.
"Tch. I'm jealous. Why don't I ever get easy gigs like this? My overtime fee for tonight was definitely too low..."
"Hehe The employer said there would only be two Necessarius elites"
The voice didn't sound tense or frustrated that the plan had been exposed. Instead, she sounded like a child who had finished a prank and was happily packing her bag to go home.
"Such bad luck It seems the intel was slightly off But then, errors are the spice of life, aren't they~?"
Vesper ignored her philosophical musings on "spice" and abruptly changed the subject with a seemingly unrelated question.
"You're a member of the Russian Orthodox Church, aren't you?"
Again, not a question, but a statement.
The misty figure wavered. Without warning, her two index fingers crossed in front of her. The sudden movement startled Jack and Claire, who immediately braced for an attack.
Seconds ticked by. Nothing happened.
As if satisfied with her final "prank," the sweet voice rang out one last time, filled with pride and exaggerated pity.
"Bzzzt Asking questions you already know the answer to loses you points But you're right, cutie My mission was only to 'interfere.' A lovely nun like me has no intention of fighting to the death with Necessarius elites—or such a cute little brother"
She dragged out the words with a playful rhythm.
"Now that the trick is spoiled, there's no point in staying. Big sister is going to take her leave now~"
The final note went up in a cheerful lilt, like someone saying goodbye at a pleasant tea party.
The second the words faded, the mist-figure in the nun's habit dissolved like morning fog caught in a breeze. She grew thin and transparent before vanishing entirely into the chilled air, leaving no trace behind. It was as if she had never existed.
Only the thick frost on the walls, the clashing ice in the channel, and the pile of rubble proved that the encounter hadn't been a hallucination. The tunnel was left with only the stubborn yellow glow of the emergency lights, the faint dripping of melting frost, and the sound of ice scraping against ice.
Silence reigned for several seconds.
Vesper's shoulders slumped. His usual aura of lazy powerlessness returned instantly. He turned to his two companions, who were still in combat stances.
"Now what? I'm guessing the plan to bid on the 'target' through official channels is dead in the water?"
Jack didn't answer immediately. His sharp eyes scanned the area, focusing on where the figure had vanished and the upstream/downstream flow of the channel. He didn't lower his steel balls.
After a few more seconds, he exhaled slowly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, but his eyes remained wary.
"If her goal was to cause a distraction to stop the auction, the venue is likely already in chaos. We need to go confirm the situation immediately. If the auction is canceled, tracking the target's new location isn't our job..."
Claire nodded in agreement with Jack's assessment. She looked down at her clutch, preparing to reorganize her remaining test tubes.
"Right. I'll contact headquarters first, report the situation, and confirm—"
However, just as her fingers moved—
An anomaly occurred without warning.
It wasn't an attack from any specific direction. It was simply "light."
An intrusive, overwhelming, pure "white."
It didn't come from a single point or direction. It exploded from every corner, every inch of air, every frost-covered brick, and even from their own shadows.
Vision was instantly stripped away. There was nothing left but that crushing, absolute pallor.
"Holy—! Does this job... come with health insurance?"
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