Chapter 1318: Chapter 1318

"Having vanquished the last specter, the adventurers searched the area. Behind the staircase, they discovered an iron door, the footprints leading right to it. A blackened skeleton sat slumped against the entrance. What will you do with it?"

"That can't be right. If someone went through that door recently, there's no way they wouldn't have seen the skeleton! Surely it wasn't the church that moved it here? That's just absurd!"

Mr. Hood countered, but Corpse Mister informed him that was simply how things were; his objection was futile.

"But so far, we've encountered wolves and ghouls that appeared out of nowhere, a staircase that mysteriously collapsed, and now this skeleton that has materialized from thin air... If Corpse Mister insists their presence is logical, then someone inside this hospital must be orchestrating everything. Or, someone knew our story would unfold here and set it all up beforehand, just to lure us into a trap!"

"Mr. Candle, isn't that speculation a bit too bold?"

Mr. White Cat sounded skeptical.

"Is there any other theory that makes more sense? I'd wager that whatever awaits us behind that iron door is far more terrifying than the five specters we just faced. Otherwise, the mastermind behind all this would have no reason to lead us here."

"Are you implying something about me, Mr. Candle?"

"Those are your words, not mine. I was merely stating my deduction."

Jenkins met his gaze, appearing completely unfazed, but inwardly his heart was racing. He continued, feigning a calm composure:

"Friends, I'm willing to bet that behind that iron door is the morgue—the site of this story's final battle. I know each of you has kept secrets about your adventurers, and that's perfectly understandable. But at this point, I believe we should all lay our cards on the table. We need to work together to finish this story and save Nolan. I'll start: the noble lady is carrying a small steam-powered fragmentation bomb. It may be small, but it's powerful enough to demolish one of those rickety buildings in the Nolan slums."

He said this so that Hathaway would feel free to use the writer's abilities without reservation, no longer holding back for fear of revealing her secrets.

"In that case, I too will reveal something. But I trust everyone here will keep what they hear today in the strictest confidence... The Viscountess possesses a C-class Bestowal."

Magic Miss declared, her tone grave.

"If we're sharing... very well. While the sailor appears to be an ordinary man, that's merely his cover. His true profession is as a spy for the Church of Ocean and Exploration, placed among a pirate king's crew. He carries not only a pistol enhanced by an Enchanter but also several contact-activated talismans."

Judging by his tone, it sounded as if Mr. White Cat had made a difficult decision to reveal this information.

"Since we're all sharing secrets, I won't hold back either. The merchant's daughter I mentioned... is actually a crazed killer who fled from the Cheslan Kingdom to Nolan."

All eyes turned to Mr. Hood. His revelation was utterly astounding.

"She was once possessed by an unknown, grotesque entity... very well, it was a Killing Mark. She committed many terrible acts during that time. Six months ago, last autumn, I found her in the sewers, defeated by another of her kind. It was only after contacting her merchant father that I learned the full story. I've kept her with me for the past half-year, helping her mentally recover. So, even though the Killing Mark has faded and she's now an ordinary person, she is by no means weak in a fight."

Mr. Hood explained, the words seeming to catch in his throat.

"So, that means the noble girl is the only truly 'ordinary person' among us? My luck really is terrible."

Jenkins lamented, his tone genuinely glum.

"Since you know your adventurer isn't skilled in combat, please make sure to protect her. Don't let her get hurt just because she's caught up in our business. The writer I'm controlling has a secret as well. He also possesses a Bestowal—that very cane he carries."

This was something Jenkins had already told Hathaway; he had expected the red-haired young woman to reveal a different secret.

"So, how will you deal with the skeleton? Your time is running out."

Corpse Mister warned, having "graciously" allowed them to exchange information without interruption. He seemed unconcerned that it would affect the story's progression.

"We won't deal with the skeleton. The writer will wrap it in his coat and carry it with him. Around the time the curse is set to erupt, we can decide whether the adventurers will bear the final burden, or the city itself."

Hathaway stated with conviction. The others supported her judgment; it was the best course of action for the time being.

Outside the window, Nolan was being battered by the storm. Black clouds hung ever lower, plunging the city into a premature night. A foul mist had crept into the streets, seemingly a hybrid of the black fog from the city's perimeter and the hospital's own eerie white haze. Gale-force winds howled through the streets, carrying snapped branches, while huge raindrops lashed against the ground and windowpanes.

Such weather was exceedingly rare for Nolan in the spring, a sign that the city itself was slowly succumbing to the unnatural.

"After you take the skeleton, what will you do?"

"Prepare for battle."

Mr. Hood said, and then added:

Corpse Mister asked again, his damned, monotonous voice betraying none of his thoughts.

"Open the iron door."

"You don't have a key."

"The Viscountess can pick locks. She's an expert at bypassing any kind of physical mechanism."

"Roll the dice... A success. The door swings open, revealing a flight of steps leading down. There is no light, and you cannot tell what lies below."

"The writer will take the lead. He uses his monocle to gain night vision."

Hathaway spoke first, and the others quickly followed suit. They formed up with the Viscountess guarding the rear, while Briny was protected in the center of the formation.

The scenery on the tabletop was wreathed in mist, and only the intermittent flashes of lightning from outside could faintly illuminate the scene. The wooden figurines were now in an underground location; to represent this, a section of the tabletop itself was recessed. The players at the table watched through the wooden frame of the model building as the party of five descended, step by step. Orıginal content can be found at N0v3l.Fiɾe.net