Chapter 435: Chapter 435

"Things have been getting more and more chaotic lately. I heard a serial killer has appeared in Rhodeburg County, preying on people at night. The last time I saw news , it was happening in the Cheslan Kingdom... Come to think of it, rumors seem to have been popping up all over the continent since October."

The wealthy merchant mused, gazing into the fireplace, though he didn't seem particularly concerned. Official source ıs NoveIꜰire.net

Jenkins raised the wine glass to his lips, masking his expression. He knew about the incidents. Months ago, the Orthodox Church began to suspect the killings were preparations for some large-scale ritual, as slaughter was so often linked to sacrifice. But because the murders were scattered across such a wide area, the investigation had taken a great deal of time. At the very least, he hadn't heard any new developments before leaving Nolan City.

"Bel Diran should be quite safe, though. It is the royal capital, after all, and one of the few cities on the continent that's brightly lit at night," Jenkins offered.

"But it still can't compare to Ruen, in the Hamparvo Kingdom. The royal palace there is lit up all night long."

As he spoke, the merchant let out a laugh, though it was hard to tell if it was one of mockery or envy.

"That's different," Jenkins countered. "Ruen's lights shine for the royal family. Bel Diran's shine for ordinary citizens like us."

"Ah, that's true indeed."

Mr. Rodriguez's manservant soon procured a carriage, and after a few more pleasantries with his business partner, Jenkins took his leave.

The coachman drove him through the city, heading toward the suburbs. Perhaps he was simply exhausted from the day's events, but as he leaned against the carriage wall, he felt himself drifting into a drowsy haze. But then a jolt of alarm shot through him, and a flick from Chocolate's swishing tail made him realize the sudden sleepiness felt unnatural.

Peering cautiously through the wooden window lattice at the street outside, Jenkins felt a growing certainty that something was wrong. He wasn't a local, but he could at least tell his directions. And at this rate, their destination was definitely not the Church.

"Excuse me, have you taken a wrong turn?"

He leaned out to ask the driver, his breath forming a white cloud in the frigid air. But the coachman remained motionless, gripping the reins, his back the only thing visibly trembling with the rhythmic jolting of the carriage. Frowning, Jenkins pulled back inside, scooped up the dozing cat, and drew his pistol, his other hand gripping his cane.

He blinked, activating his sight, and confirmed the driver was just an ordinary man. The horse, however, was shrouded in a faint yellow aura.

He reached out of the carriage and prodded the driver with his cane, but the man sat as still as a wax figure.

"Chocolate, wake up! We're in trouble!"

Clutching his cat, he leaped from the carriage. But the moment his feet left the floorboards, a yellow spell-light flared from the carriage's underbelly, flinging both man and cat back inside.

"Damn it! Someone set a ritual on this carriage beforehand. I can't get out!"

Hausen Manor was situated in the outskirts of Bel Diran. To reach it from the edge of the capital, one had to cross a vast expanse of farmland. Only a single narrow road connected the manor to the city, a path it relied upon for food and daily supplies.

The manor had been built over thirty years ago, but then as now, few knew of the grand estate tucked away in the valley. It was so discreet as to be practically invisible, and no one could say who its master was. Normally, the manor remained dark at night, but this evening was different. Two old men, each holding a candle, stood before the estate's imposing iron gates, peering into the distance at the end of the winding, muddy path.

"They should be here soon. I hope we've found enough sacrifices."

His voice was a dry rasp, like a snake's hiss.

"There won't be any problems. The carriages we've tampered with can more easily find ordinary people with strong souls. The spell on the chassis ensures the fish on the hook won't get away."

The other man's voice was even stranger, as if he hadn't spoken to a human in so long he had forgotten how.

The faint clip-clop of hooves and the rumble of wheels drifted from the end of the path. Accompanied by the steady beat, three carriages arrived one by one before the gates of Hausen Manor.

The coachmen dismounted with stiff, unnatural movements while the two old men raised their candles to inspect their harvest.

A young man with glasses was roughly dragged from the second carriage and unceremoniously dumped on the ground.

"Not bad. That makes five for tonight. That's enough. Let's head in."

The coachmen climbed back onto their carriages and headed back the way they came, the candlelight briefly illuminating their vacant, lifeless eyes.

The young man was dragged into the manor like a dead dog. Silence returned to the narrow path, where only the sly moon kept watch.

A few minutes later, a handful of startled birds burst from the withered woods lining the road. The air seemed to shimmer twice, and then more than twenty men materialized from among the trees.

At their head stood a stern-faced, middle-aged man with a monocle, holding a miner's lamp that burned with a blue flame—a light that could render them invisible. Just behind him to his left, a young woman with beautiful long hair cradled a purple gemstone whose faint light pulsed into the air, shielding them from divination and scrying. Farther back, an old man in the sacerdotal robes of the Inherited Sage Church held a silver bell that silenced their movements. And in the center of the group, a young man held a small black-and-white cat. This cat could help them by... well, this cat was just something Jenkins had brought along. It was completely useless.

Just moments before, Jenkins had nearly become a victim of the midnight urban legend of "the inescapable carriage." But his luck had been exceptionally good. A combat squad from the Inherited Sage Church happened to be investigating the very same phenomenon and had spotted the carriage's strange behavior—specifically, Jenkins kicking the driver off his seat—just before he could set the vehicle on fire. They had rescued him and Chocolate.

The third carriage that had arrived at the manor gates was the very one Jenkins had been trapped in. The squad's captain had initially refused to let Jenkins join their operation, but he had insisted on following, using the excuse that he was a valuable healer.

It wasn't that he was bored and looking to recklessly gamble with his life. He simply believed that since this matter now involved him, he had every reason to see it through to the end. He was sorely lacking in practical combat experience, and the chance to take part in a large-scale squad operation was a rare opportunity indeed.