Verdu was startled at first, but he quickly understood Edward's intention and immediately activated his ability.
"I cam, I saw, I recorded."
He rapidly swiped across the illusionary book that floated before him, and the structure in front of them instantly crumbled into a ruin.
Suddenly, the surrounding fog dissipated once more, the illusion shattering like glass.
After a brief moment of disorientation, the two of them found themselves standing before a heap of rubble. Through the faintly discernible patterns still visible on the remaining fragments, it was easy to confirm:
This was indeed the Church of the Lord of Storms!
So…the dowsing rod had been correct?
BOOM!
At that moment, the ruins exploded with a thunderous roar. A man clad in a deep blue bishop's robe embroidered with storm sigils burst forth. Dust and ash clung to him from head to toe, and he glared furiously at the two men before him.
"Blasphemers!"
Harnessing the power of violent winds, he launched wave after wave of razor-sharp wind blades at them.
Edward and Verdu acted in unison—one casting a Stupefy spell, the other unleashing a mental piercing attack. The man screamed in agony as he hit the ground, then was immediately bound by chains formed from shards of stone.
The two exchanged glances, momentarily unsure what was real anymore.
"Do you think...this is reality now, or another illusion?"
Edward shook his head. "I have no idea."
He turned to the cluster of buildings farther off in Bansy Harbour and said, "But suddenly I'm wondering...what if we keep using this method—destroying everything we see from here on out? What would happen?"
"..."
Verdu paused, then laughed. "Might be worth a try."
"In that case...let's start with the telegraph office."
"Let's go!"
Whoosh—
Almost as soon as they stepped forward, the boundless mist surged up again, engulfing them completely.
Only this time, it lasted no more than ten seconds before rapidly retreating once more.
Edward found himself once again at the entrance of the Green Lemon Restaurant, his hand on the door handle, holding it open for the mother and daughter.
"Thank you," the young woman nodded slightly.
"Thanks, Mister," the little girl said sweetly.
Edward and Verdu looked at each other and instantly reached the same conclusion: This fog wasn't natural. Someone was manipulating it.
Just then, the woman who had walked a dozen meters away suddenly turned around.
"Leave Bansy. Now."
Edward shrugged. "I'd love to, but there aren't any boats, are there?"
The woman fell silent for a moment. "You didn't take a boat to get here, so you won't need one to leave either."
"You're the one orchestrating all this, aren't you?"
She shook her head. "No."
A smile spread across her face. "We're the offerings for this ritual."
"...."
Verdu glanced at the little girl. "Her too?"
The woman's smile grew even brighter. "Of course."
The girl also smiled—innocently, but chillingly.
"...You're all insane!" Edward muttered.
"Are you descendants of Medici?"
The smile on the woman's face vanished. "You two…you're not like the others who came before. One was searching for someone, the other was looking for ruins. But in the end, neither will get what they want."
"Why?"
"Because everything you're searching for is hidden behind the place you both don't dare go—the telegraph office. Push open the wooden door at the very back, and you'll find what you want." With that, she took the girl's hand and turned to leave.
"Confundus!"
"I came, I saw, I recorded!"
Despite their brief acquaintance, the two had already built a solid rapport—they struck at the woman in perfect unison.
HUM—
The fog surged again.
They were back at the entrance of the Green Lemon Restaurant.
Only this time, the woman and child didn't appear.
ROOOAR!!
With wave after wave of bestial howls, twisted figures began charging out of the mist—former pirates who had either vanished or died.
Only now, they were all ghouls.
Verdu's expression changed. "Fall back to the restaurant—now!"
"No need."
Edward stepped forward, arms wide open, as if embracing the sun. A pillar of pure, majestic radiance descended from the sky, striking the charging horde of undead.
For an instant, the world turned white.
Moments later, the light faded. The ghouls caught in the pillar had completely vanished, while those touched by the radiant glow had lost their vitality—some collapsed into dried husks, others were left with missing limbs.
Verdu stared, speechless for a moment, before muttering, "Emlyn…that's not the power of a low-sequence Beyonder."
Edward grinned. "Takes one to know one."
Verdu frowned. "Are you really here just to find someone?"
"Of course."
"Childhood sweetheart?"
"...You can think of it that way."
Verdu instinctively patted the pocket holding his pocket watch. "You deceived my feelings."
"...???"
Verdu didn't pursue the topic further. "So, what do you plan to do next?"
Edward shrugged. "Honestly, I think I might not even need to go to the Telegraph Office to achieve my goal."
If that wooden door was the same one Klein had seen later, then stepping beyond it was definitely a bad idea. Edward didn't believe the descendants of Medici would just sit quietly behind it.
After a pause, he added, "But we're still going to the telegraph office."
"Mm."
Without hesitation, the two once again stepped into the mist, relying on the glow of the lantern to guide their way toward the Telegraph Office.
This time, the fog didn't mislead them. They didn't encounter any more pirate corpses turned undead. In just two or three minutes, they arrived in front of the only lit building on the entire street—the Telegraph Office.
The two of them stopped again in sync, keeping a distance of three or four meters. Verdu picked up a stone and tossed it against the door. "Anyone there?"
A moment later, a silhouette slowly approached the window from within. Then, a woman's voice rang out: "Who is it?"
"We'd like to send a telegram. Is that alright?"
"No problem."
Soon, the door creaked open, and a local woman stepped out. It was Melanie—they had seen her earlier that day.
"Huh? It's you two."
Then, as if suddenly realising the thick fog outside, she panicked, "Hasn't anyone told you? When the fog rolls into Bansy Harbour at night, you must stay indoors. Come in, quickly!"
Ding.
Edward flipped a coin. Entering the Telegraph Office is dangerous. The coin landed with the number facing up—No.
"Excuse me, but do you know why the lights in all the surrounding homes are out? It's not that late yet—far too early for everyone to be asleep, wouldn't you say?"
Melanie blinked, stuck her head out and looked around. "I…have no idea."
"Hmm, may I ask, Ms. Melanie, is your full name Melanie Medici?"
Her expression became puzzled. "Why would you ask that? Oh, right—you asked earlier if I knew anyone by that name. No, I'm a Moore, Melanie Moore."
Edward flipped another coin. Just like earlier that day, it confirmed she was telling the truth.
Then Verdu asked, "Do you know a woman with a young girl?"
She looked confused. "There are quite a few women with children in Bansy. Who exactly do you mean?"
"The ones who are supposed to be used as sacrifices in tonight's ritual."
"...???"
Melanie stared at them in blank bewilderment. "What ritual? What sacrifice? Where are you hearing these strange rumours?"
Suddenly, Verdu's voice turned grim. "Maybe we should just destroy the Telegraph Office and see what kind of game they're really playing."
Edward looked at him with surprise. Bro, your insight is impressive. That's exactly what I was thinking too.
The moment the words left Verdu's mouth, Melanie's face twisted into something inhuman.
"If you do that," she hissed, eyes bloodshot, "you'll regret it."
Her voice fractured, syllables stretching unnaturally.
"If you won't enter…then go to the docks…and leave…Do not…interfere…with…our…ritual…"
"Or…you…will…die."
The moment her words fell, the mist thickened once more—another loop was about to begin.
Edward suddenly said, "Actually, I've been curious. If you people truly want us to go into the Telegraph Office, why be so deliberate about it? Isn't it possible that you actually don't want us to go?"
Beside him, Verdu's eyes lit up. "No wonder something's felt off this whole time—it's too deliberate!"
The fog stuttered. From inside the building, laughter echoed. "Oh? Then come in and see for yourselves."
Edward shrugged. "But then I thought—what if this deliberateness is itself a trick? A double bluff to lure us in?"
Verdu: "...."
"The Medici descendants likely walk the Hunter pathway. Once they reach Sequence 6—Conspirer—they love playing these kinds of mind games."
Edward laughed. "And I figured…being on Medici's turf, letting a bunch of Medici have the upper hand no matter what we do—we'll lose badly. So I want to try a different strategy."
He pulled a tin box from his pouch, flipped it open, and took out a finely crafted Tarot card.
The Card of Blasphemy for the Red Priest—though fake, it was crafted by Medici himself.
"Maybe the Medici descendants don't lack Hunter pathway formulas. But a Card of Blasphemy like this…it should still hold some value to you, no?"
Almost instantly, Edward could feel countless gazes fixated on him from within the mist.
"I need a hundred millilitres of blood—from a direct descendant of Medici. Whoever gives it to me, this card is theirs."
Edward raised the Card of Blasphemy and gave it a little shake.
"I've said my piece. Now—"
"Who's in favour? Who's opposed?"
———
[Note]: Here's the promised Extra Chapter. Enjoy~ And, if you guys want an Extra Chapter tomorrow, we'd need to hit 250 Powestones. Go, VOTE!
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