Chapter 1363: Chapter 1363
"Alright, since none of us know the ambassador's address, I'll figure something out. I should be back in under an hour."
With no other option, Jenkins flew on the unicorn to the skies above the Hersha estate. He brought his sleeping cat all the way from Ruen to watch over his physical body, then used [Dream Soul Departure] to enter Hathaway's dream once more.
At first, Hathaway didn't recognize Jenkins, thinking it was just a dream. Only after he explained did she realize he had used his dream-entering ability again.
When she learned that Jenkins only wanted to ask for the address of some strange middle-aged man, she was clearly disappointed, but she still gave him the answer. After all, as the daughter of a high-ranking naval official, she had access to that kind of information.
"Next time you want to see me at night, you can just come in through the window. I know that wouldn't be a problem for you."
Hathaway added this before he left. Her dreamscape was still her bedroom, virtually identical to the real thing.
"Alright, no problem."
Jenkins gave a noncommittal reply, hugged the red-haired girl, and left the dream, leaving Hathaway to fume alone in her slumber.
The ambassador of the Ancient Ao Principality lived in the affluent district on the city's east side, on higher ground, only two blocks from the Hersha estate. A dozen or so minutes later, the three men had arrived nearby. From a distance, they observed the detached villa with its spacious yard and the guards clearly patrolling the grounds, all surprised by the level of security.
Mr. Hood spoke up. His arm was still in a sling, but he had insisted on coming along with Mr. White Cat and Jenkins.
"That just proves there's definitely something wrong here," Jenkins remarked. "How are we supposed to get in? Wouldn't killing all these people be a bit too cruel?"
Jenkins and the other two were perched on a high rooftop, surveying the scene below.
"Mr. Candle, there's no need for such cruelty. A quiet infiltration will suffice. Those people are likely just ordinary men."
Mr. Hood shut down Jenkins's dangerous and audacious idea, then nodded at Mr. White Cat, who began to softly chant an incantation.
Because of Magic Miss, a master of spells and rituals, Jenkins had always assumed she was the only one in their group skilled in spellcasting. But in reality, Mr. White Cat was also proficient; he just rarely had a chance to show it.
As Mr. White Cat chanted softly, the moonlight around the three of them grew dimmer. Shadows pooled in areas where there had been none before. The cat on Jenkins's shoulder glanced at him with curiosity.
Once Mr. White Cat was finished, Mr. Hood took a small figure woven from straw out of his pocket and carefully bent down to place it on the ground. The moment it left his hand, the straw doll swelled like a sponge soaking up water, expanding into a life-sized scarecrow fit for a farmer's field.
Its materials seemed ordinary, with one exception: instead of buttons or pieces of coal, its eyes looked like two black gems.
Jenkins asked in a low voice.
"B-07-4-2229, [The Unseeable Scarecrow]. Anyone near it has their presence greatly diminished. Combined with the shadows Mr. White Cat summoned, it should allow us to walk right in. Of course, its effect on ordinary people is quite good, but if you were to walk past an Enchanter with it, they might not notice you directly, but their keen senses would still pick up on the unusual traces."
Mr. Hood explained, then lifted the heavy-looking scarecrow with one arm and gestured for the others to move out.
"But why is its danger level 4 and not 5, the lowest?"
Jenkins was still curious.
"After using this scarecrow, there's an extremely low chance of dreaming about it during your next sleep and being stabbed to death with a sharp knife. It's no threat to an Enchanter—even if you're killed in the dream, you'll just wake up with a headache for a few days. But for an ordinary person, there's a high probability they'd be killed, wake up, and go insane... Mr. Candle, we can discuss any other questions after we've handled this. It's time to infiltrate."
Mr. Hood reminded him in a hushed tone.
It was probably the most tedious method of infiltration imaginable. The three men were practically glued together, inching their way into the courtyard behind Mr. Hood, who carried the scarecrow.
The gate to the yard was, of course, locked, so they had to laboriously scale the wall. To avoid being spotted during the climb, Mr. Hood stood at the base of the wall, holding the scarecrow up high. Then Jenkins, the most agile of the three, leaped onto the top of the wall. After taking the scarecrow, he pulled up Mr. White Cat and Mr. Hood in turn, and then all three jumped down from their perch.
While the yard wasn't exactly crawling with guards, it was clear that the owner took security very seriously.
An unexpected complication arose: not only had the ambassador hired men, but he also kept a large pack of watchdogs. And it seemed Mr. Hood's scarecrow, while effective on humans, was less so on canines.
As the three of them tiptoed past the pack of dogs, the one lying on the very edge twitched its nose and rose alertly to its feet.
Jenkins felt Mr. Hood, who was walking ahead with the scarecrow, hold his breath. He quickly patted the cat on his shoulder. The cat let out a very reluctant "meow," and immediately, the dogs that had seemed to sense something dropped back down, burying their heads deep beneath their paws.
Jenkins had long known that his cat, having drunk a magic potion, had a powerful intimidating effect on ordinary animals. It seemed that intimidation was still quite useful.
After climbing down from the wall, they followed the stone steps on the left, circling a flowerbed. They intimidated the pack of watchdogs near the fountain in front of the courtyard, then trailed a group of patrolling guards to approach the house.
The main door of the house was shut tight. Two guards in full plate armor stood on either side, their halberds crossed to block the entrance. In an age where firearms were common, such an attire was a rare sight indeed.
The men patrolling the courtyard wouldn't need to go inside, so they certainly wouldn't have keys. And even with the scarecrow, trying to slip past the two sentries at the door without alerting them seemed impossible.
So, the three of them tried a few windows, but their luck was out; they didn't find any that had been left unlocked.
They had no choice but to return to the front door. Jenkins volunteered to give it a try. As a three-man patrol in the yard headed toward the back of the house, chatting and laughing quietly, he quickly stepped out of the scarecrow's area of effect:
"Mr. Wilson's secret guests have arrived to pay a visit. You need to let them in and conceal the fact that anyone was here." Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novęlfire.net