Inside a house painted gray-blue on the outside, located on the west bank of the Tassok River in Tingen City's West District.
The entire house seemed to be in deep winter, with temperatures at least ten degrees lower than outside. Irregular breezes passed through, blowing the curtains covering the windows, letting a trace of dim yellow sunlight into the room, then shyly covering the curtains again, returning the room to darkness.
In the center of the house's first floor, at what was originally the dining room location, stood a round table. On the table was a god statue carved from white bone, about 30 centimeters tall, shaped like an absolutely beautiful woman, but with blurred facial features. Long hair reached to the ankles, becoming clearer and thicker toward the bottom, like hanging poisonous snakes.
Around the god statue were densely placed crudely made wooden dolls, only roughly carved into basic shapes, with paper strips pasted on them, written with various identity information in red ink.
Two mysterious figures, one tall and one short, wore black robes with hoods covering their heads, standing by the altar, chanting obscure and incomprehensible incantations in low voices.
"Boom—"
The yellow-green flames of three candles arranged in an inverted triangle on the altar suddenly increased in brightness, making light and shadow dance in the room, with gusts of cold wind blowing.
The shorter of the two relaxed their shoulders, as if sighing in relief, backed away from the altar to the doorway, then turned and pushed the door open to leave.
In the corridor, cold wind blew ceaselessly. Curtains at the windows blocked sunlight, leaving the entire first floor in darkness.
But the black-robed figure's eyes seemed completely unaffected by darkness. He avoided the invisible, transparent figures wandering in the corridor, following the wooden stairs to the second floor.
The temperature here was closer to the outside world compared to the first floor. The black-robed figure kept his head down, silently returning to his bedroom, closing the door, removing his hood, hanging the black robe on the coat rack, revealing the close-fitting gray-white long dress underneath.
"He" was actually a young, beautiful woman.
Her features individually weren't particularly refined, but combined together, they had an attractive quality. After removing the black robe, she walked to the dressing table, sat before the makeup mirror, staring at her reflection, lost in thought.
On the dressing table were various cosmetic boxes and a silver mirror that looked somewhat old, its surface scratched until it could barely reflect light.
While the woman was absorbed in her own beauty, the silver mirror flashed a strange bright red light, attracting her attention like a glaring alarm in the lightless room.
Then blood seeped from the mirror surface, flowing along the edges onto the table.
The woman's relaxed expression and gentle face immediately darkened. She jumped up from the stool, quickly went to the window, carefully lifted a corner of the curtain to look outside.
———
"That's right, it's this house."
Klein sat by the carriage window, staring at a gray-blue exterior two-story house about 200 meters away outside the window, speaking with certainty.
Leonard nodded, not asking the coachman to stop. The three Nighthawks sat quietly in the carriage as if they had discovered nothing.
Not until the carriage continued forward for some distance, almost unable to see that house, did Angel call for the carriage to stop and was first to exit.
Leonard followed closely, leaving only Klein still in the carriage.
This was their pre-arranged strategy. If they successfully found the target building, Klein, who had the weakest frontal combat ability, would take the carriage back to Zoutland Street to notify the captain and have him come for support.
Angel and Leonard would remain nearby, monitoring the building being used as an altar.
Standing by the carriage door, Klein looked down at his two teammates and pursed his lips. He suddenly regretted choosing "Seer," always having to stay in the second line during battles.
With a thought, he took out the copper penny he had used for divination several times today, flicked it into the air with a "ding," performing a quick divination.
"Oh, what has our 'Seer' discovered now?"
Seeing Klein still wanting to divine at this time, Leonard couldn't help but laugh.
"You will all live well today."
"Seer" Klein looked at the coin in his hand, mouth corners lifting, stating his divination result.
———
The sun had gradually sunk into the horizon. On the facade of the two-story building not far away, sunlight was gradually disappearing from bottom to top, making the barren garden appear even more sinister and terrifying.
Although this house was classified within Tingen City's West District, it was actually close to the suburbs. Several detached houses were scattered around sparsely, with wheat fields awaiting harvest farther away. The Tassok River on the other side was already shrouded in darkness.
Angel crouched by the low roadside fence, resisting the urge to open her spirit vision to observe the house, only using her naked eyes to stare at the building a hundred meters away, watching its tightly closed door and curtain-covered windows.
"Be careful, don't use spirit vision. I saw a Nighthawk in Port Enmat who misused spirit vision and lay in bed for a whole day before recovering."
Seeing Leonard Mitchell beside her eager to try, she quickly warned.
"Don't worry, we're still far away, and the ritual should not be completed yet, otherwise the influence range couldn't be limited to just this small building and nearby garden."
Leonard seemed quite knowledgeable about such evil rituals, answering without looking back.
"Is that so?"
Angel thought about it and decided not to risk using spirit vision for observation. Her spirit vision could only roughly distinguish whether objects carried spirituality, and even just looking at the building in front of them, one could obviously feel the extraordinary power surging within.
Leonard squinted and observed for a while, also unable to see anything special, so he closed his spirit vision and moved closer to Angel.
"What do you think is inside? A Sequence 7 'Witch,' or... someone like Madam Sharon?"
He was referring to a Sequence 6 like Madam Sharon?
"I'm not sure either, but if it's just a Sequence 7 extraordinary person, would they dare make such a big case? Having nearly a hundred people die prematurely, just to seize their extra lives for sacrifice..."
"That's hard to say. Sometimes, the more someone has just stepped onto the extraordinary path without understanding anything, the more likely they are to be bold and reckless, doing surprisingly big things."
"You seem very clear about these matters. When analyzing the case earlier, your understanding of curse rituals exceeded the Nighthawks' knowledge range. Is this your so-called 'specialness'?"
Angel looked at this "Midnight Poet" crouching beside her. His short black hair swayed in the riverside breeze, his eyes flashing with emerald light in the gradually darkening environment.
Hearing Angel's questioning, he stylishly swept his black hair with his hand, mouth corners lifting, answering: "That's right, you can understand it that way, just like yours and Klein's specialness. As those adventure novels say, the protagonists have entered the stage, and history's wheels begin rolling forward."
"...You got mud from your hand onto your hair."
Watching "novel protagonist" Leonard frantically patting the dust on his hair, Angel's mouth corners carried a smile as she turned her head away.