Chapter 1367: Chapter 1367

The mountain villa before them didn't belong to Silver Flute Miss; it was owned by a friend of hers. However, the owner only stayed here occasionally during the summer, so Silver Flute Miss was the sole resident at the moment.

She was somewhat familiar with the area, and upon hearing that the trio was looking for the biogas digester on the sun-facing side of the hill, she offered to lead them, taking a shortcut to the factory grounds.

They had just spotted the row of low warehouses in the distance when Mr. White Cat caught the scent of blood on the wind. Following the smell, they discovered a mass of human bodies in a nearby garbage pit used by the workers.

Mr. Hood braved the foul stench to examine the corpses in the pit. He determined that they had all died within the last hour, their hearts torn out or throats slit by sharp claws.

"It's almost certain they were killed by ghouls," he declared. "Look at this mutilated corpse over here. These are clearly the bite marks of a humanoid creature."

He tugged at a corpse missing half its right leg, trying to get the others to take a closer look, but the overpowering stench of the pit and the gruesome state of the bodies were too jarring. None of them had any desire to join Mr. Hood's examination.

There was little doubt as to their identities; they were clearly the workers stationed in the mountains year-round to manage and maintain the biogas facility. A careful count revealed thirty-four bodies in total, presumably the entire crew.

The four of them had arrived too late to save the workers. Had they been delayed any further, they might have been too late to save Nolan itself.

They hurried from the pit toward the factory, easily spotting the still-wet bloodstains and scattered body parts that littered the ground. The creatures themselves were nowhere in sight, but through his unique senses, Jenkins located them: three Frenzied Demons and five ghouls were inside the factory's control room, the one filled with instrument panels and gauges.

Caught completely off guard by the assault, three of the creatures were slain in the initial clash.

The remaining two Frenzied Demons and three ghouls immediately wheeled around to fight back, while one lone ghoul stayed behind in the pipe room at the far end of the workshop. By the time the four of them had dispatched their opponents and reached the back, they found that the last ghoul had already killed itself, smashing in its own head.

Beside its body lay an empty cardboard box. Picking it up and holding it to their noses, they could detect the faint scent of gunpowder.

A nearby pipe hissed, spewing white vapor, leading them to conclude it was a steam line.

Mr. Hood asked, puzzled.

None of the four had any experience with pipe maintenance, so they couldn't figure out what their foes had gone to such great lengths to accomplish. Finally, with a nudge from Mr. White Cat, Jenkins spotted some red residue on the wall. Mr. White Cat touched a bit with his finger, sniffed it, and made his conclusion: it was a specially treated alchemical black powder, the kind where a single ounce could level an entire street.

With Mr. White Cat's assistance, the group found more of the residue in the pipe room. The final trace was found at a pipe opening. Later, Silver Flute Miss performed a ritual that magically reconstructed the scene around a valve that had clearly been tampered with, revealing that someone had pumped a gas into the system.

"Gaseous alchemical black powder. I think that's what this is. I've seen it before."

Mr. White Cat said with certainty, then shared his deduction with the others:

"Before dawn arrives, you should hurry and tell your relatives and friends to pack their bags and leave the city. This place is doomed."

Mr. White Cat's conclusion was deeply pessimistic, and he looked ready to turn and bolt on the spot.

The other three weren't ready to accept such a dire outcome, but unfortunately, Mr. White Cat's assessment was correct. Someone had indeed pumped gaseous alchemical black powder, mixed with steam laced with biogas, into Nolan's subterranean network.

"Unless we can turn back time, this is completely irreversible," he explained. "Even as we speak, the gas is likely spreading throughout the city's underbelly. Paired with a ritual—one we don't know the location of—this low-concentration explosive is enough to detonate half of Nolan."

Mr. White Cat was extremely pessimistic.

"Can't we find and stop the detonation ritual? The concentration of the gas and powder is low. Without a mystical ritual to guide it, there won't be an explosion."

Silver Flute Miss asked.

"But the problem is we have no idea where the ritual is taking place," Mr. White Cat replied. "There's not much time left until dawn. Even if we found the location this very second, it's doubtful we could reach it in time. Besides, if we notify the Church, we'd lose precious time, and a large-scale search would only tip our hand, forcing them to set it off early."

Mr. Hood couldn't accept such a conclusion. He felt much as Jenkins did; both men had a special attachment to the city. The source of thɪs content is novel※fire.net

"Is there really no other way? Speaking of which, Mr. White Cat, I remember you said you had a batch of magical conches..."

Mr. White Cat had acquired the conches cheaply from a fisherman. The man had miraculously survived a storm at sea, washed ashore on a deserted island, and discovered buried treasure. To his dismay, the treasure was nothing more than a cache of seashells. Lamenting his luck, he nonetheless insisted his rescuers bring the conches aboard, and upon reaching the docks, he sold them to Mr. White Cat, who happened to be there on business.

"Yes, I do have the magical conches!"

Mr. White Cat finally remembered, but there was a catch. He had unfortunately lost his backpack when they were pulled into the Mysterious Realm. Except for the three he kept in his pocket, the rest were probably lost in the rifts between dimensions. Still, Mr. White Cat was an optimist; the conches hadn't cost him much, after all.

He picked up a conch, about to raise it to his lips to ask a question, when an explosive roar thundered overhead, startling him so much he dropped it. The next moment, the ceiling above them was torn away, and a violent gust from the beating of dragon wings blasted into the factory.

Glancing up, they saw a massive red dragon soaring across the sky. They could just faintly make out the figure of a woman on its back.

There was only one dragon in Nolan City, so this was, of course, Miss Knight.

Her original target must have been the creatures as well, so when she tore off the roof and saw four humans standing below, she held back her next attack, hovering in the air to observe them warily.

Staring up at the dragon, the four of them were momentarily stunned, unsure of what to do next.