A closing umbrella revealed a well-dressed man in a uniform. Wilde had arrived at the destruction and saw the collapsed tunnel. The man patted his clothes and noticed that no one was waiting for him. He grinned and headed in with light steps. Inside was full of rubble as much of it had collapsed and shifted. Wilde did not care for that, even the dead bodies. It was not his problem or concern. Finally, as he reached the sprouting paths, Wilde was ready to test how his laughter would echo throughout the cavern.

“Got you good, Conrad!”

A sudden sound of footsteps frightened Wilde. Someone walked out of one of the tunnels.“Are you sure about that? Conrad walked in with a slight smile on his face.

“What? How?”

“There’s a lake in that tunnel.”

“Aw, fuck.” Wilde snapped his fingers.

“Let’s just get to the case.” Conrad looked around. “The platoon told that they marked the tunnel.”

“So, that one?” Wilde saw a red mark on the top of a tunnel. It was full of rubble like the rest of them, leaving no room to squeeze in.

“We have 40 minutes. Think you can do it?”

“I’ll get this cleared in ten.”

“Go ahead.”

Wilde reached out his hand to a large boulder and then gripped it. Wilde cleared the rocks like a toddler throwing their toys around, each hand working separately. Conrad stood on the side, watching the boulders pile. After roughly ten minutes, Wilde had reached the entrance of the cavern. They were already sure something was up as they saw the spiral and the intricate door mechanism. The door, however, was not that hard to open as Wilde punched through it. The cavern itself was not that full of rocks until the middle, where the shaft had collapsed.

“You feel it?” Wilde asked.

“That’s weird. The aura shouldn’t stay this intense.”

“Means that we’re working on something big here.”

“Well, that was clear from the start.”

They could reach the epicenter after clearing the rubble a bit more after seeing tens of bodies crushed between the rocks. The two saw the ruined ritual circle, yet something else caught their eye.

“There’s something down there,”

“But how do you think we get through that bedrock?”

“Step back.”

Conrad made some room, which after Wilde jumped in the air. He floated a bit, looking for the best spot. Wilde suddenly dropped to two feet. His weight crushed the stone until it revealed a small chamber. Even though he was a slim man, the rock crumbled and gave away as Wilde hit his feet on the ground.

“Alright, that’s enough, Wilde.” Conrad jumped down.

Conrad inspected a small item in the center. Both of them could feel the immense evil aura emanating from the mummified limb of something.

“This, why is something like this here?” Conrad asked.

“That’s one bad relic if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I think we need to take this so higher-ups can take a better look.”

“What do you think the rating is?”

“At least first-rate.”

“But if they had one of these in each town, the thing they summoned must be pretty big.”

“Not only that but if only a part of something is this powerful relic, what sort of thing was this while it lived?” Conrad pondered.

“Well, let’s just pack things up here and get back.”

“You can hitch a ride if you want. We need to be back in 20 minutes.”

“Fetch it ready. I’ll collect this here.”

“Alright. Be careful with it.” Conrad walked away.

Orel, Isao, Diarmuid, and Slacume had infiltrated the castle and found themselves in one of its rooms. Thankfully for them, there was no one inside, but the same could not be said of the next room. It was one of the guest rooms, filled with decorated seats and tables, a fireplace, and a cupboard filled with great beverages and glasses.

“Are you alright?” Orel asked.

“It stings a bit, but the runes took most of the damage.” Diarmuid dusted off some burned clothes.

“The army is full of monsters...” Slacume said.

“Alright, I’m not that familiar with the place.” Diarmuid looked at Slacume.

“You work here, don’t you? Could you lead the way?”

“Um, sure. Is there any place, in particular, you’re looking for?”

“Ms. Ramsay should be with the Duke in his office.”

“Ok. The first thing we need to do is get to the entrance hall. It’s two stories up on the third floor. It looks like we’re currently in guest room three in the southeast wing.”

“What’s outside of the door?”

“There should be a hallway. We need to go right, and the entrance hall should be behind the double doors in the end.”

“Alright. Let’s go. Everyone ready?”

“Orel, like it or not, we need to keep up with them, or we’ll be food for those things,” Slacume shook.

“I know.”

“Be not afraid. My Tomoe will protect you.” Isao drew his glaive.

“Alright, I’m going to open the door.” Diarmuid reached for the knob.

The door creaked, and some fog escaped inside. The hanging lights flickered ominously, leaving the room dark for moments from time to time. Diarmuid reached his head out to see if there was any danger. The hall was clear yet looked rummaged and with a floor stained by blood, yet the fog seeping inside made Diarmuid nervous.

“Alright. Let’s go.” Diarmuid stepped out.

Just as Diarmuid was about to head out, the fog became immense. It climbed up to cover the door while Diarmuid was not looking. Without realizing to back away, Diarmuid walked through it, stepping to the other side.

“Wait!” Orel rushed out.

“Orel, wait!” Slacume yelled.

Orel ran inside the mist and disappeared without a trace. Slacume was terrified by the sudden reappearance of the fog, fearing the worst for Orel.

Suddenly, he heard an echoing voice terminating from the door.

“Slacume,” Orel called out.

“Orel?” Slacume jumped. “You’re alive?”

“Didn’t you say there was a hallway?”

“Um, yeah. Why are you asking?”

Slacume stepped closer to the door, having no rush to try it. Gathering his courage, Slacume stuck his head through the fog. Going through it felt a bit weird, but what was even more bizarre was on the other side. There was no hallway. Instead, it was a white-tiled room full of racks, washing machines, and clothes left drying. The room was packed full, yet one thing that was still missing was Diarmuid.

“This is...The laundry room?” Slacume was confused. “Of course! We’re in a bound field. Whoever is responsible for this, they can control everything inside.”

“Then how are we going to get anywhere?” Orel asked.

“I have a solution.” Isao reached inside his sleeve.

“What do you have there?”

Isao took out a thin piece of paper with foreign writing in black and red writing.

“That’s a talisman,” Slacume said.

“Indeed. These should be able to disturb the magic in a small area.”

Praying with one arm, Isao attached the paper to the doorframe. The fog dissipated, revealing the next room.

“Now, hurry! It will not last for long!”

In other places, Eargaoth had searched for people through his zombies but was yet to find anyone meaningful.

“Largaoth, where are the intruders?” Eargaoth asked.

“...I separated them. Three are in the basement, and one is in a small room on the second floor.”

“Good. What about the Duke?”

“...My bound field cannot distinguish people, even when this small. I merely deduced that the five had intruded the same way as us.”

“I see. How will you be able to tell when one of us wants to enter a room?”

“...tell me the floor and room, and I will deactivate it. There aren’t many to mistake you from.”

“How many people are alive?”

“...Your corpses are hard to tell from regular people. Too many to count.”

“I can make them stop for a moment.”

“...Understood.” Largaoth waited. “I sense eleven people still moving.”

“Are there any that could be the Duke?”

“...I cannot say. There are two people in the same room on the third floor, but there are some alone as well.”

“Where is Vortigern?”

“...There.” Largaoth sent his message.

Meanwhile, Diarmuid found himself in a strange place. Even though he was supposed to arrive in a hallway, he found himself almost opposite. It was all dark yet relatively small as Diarmuid’s arms could reach wall to wall.

“Guess this thing has more features than I was expecting.”

By searching around, he felt something. It was a doorknob. Feeling thankful, Diarmuid immediately turned it. Light escaped from the opening, giving shape and color to the room. The equipment inside became intensively more recognizable.

“A cleaning cabinet?” Diarmuid gripped a broom. “Whatever. I need to get out of here.”

At the same time, Diarmuid felt cold air coming from outside, possibly from the next room. On the other side was yet another unexpected room.

“Now a fridge?” Diarmuid looked around.

Diarmuid looked back and saw that the doorway had become a fog-sealed gate, possibly leading to another destination. The cold air preserving the meat and drinks did not feel good on Diarmuid, nor did he enjoy the intense humming of the air conditioner.

“This fog is a pain in the ass.” Diarmuid thought to himself.

“There’s no hope trying to get anywhere before we take out that mage.”

Diarmuid walked over to the fridge door, only to find it was another fog-filled doorway as well.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Diarmuid thought for a while until coming to a simple conclusion.

“Well, only one thing to do.”

Largaoth was surprised by the movement of the dots.

“...Eargaoth, there seems to be a problem.”

“What is it?”

“...The intruders have found a way around my spell.”

“What do you mean?”

“...I do not know. They have passed to the next room.”

“That is a problem. How could they have done it?”

“...I feel something disturbing my magic somewhere.”

“That could be it.”

“...Yet, there is something else.”

“What is it?”

“The other intruder used...Different means.”

Diarmuid entered another room, though not through practical means. Behind him used to be a wall, but now there was a gaping hole punched with furious fists. Diarmuid looked around and saw that he had arrived somewhere new. The kitchen seemed to be what should have been there, meaning the technique had worked.

“That ought to do it.” Diarmuid stretched his hand. “Now, where would that mage be?”

“We need to take them out. Largaoth, tell me the location. I will send him there.” Eargaoth said.

“...Understood.”

Downstairs, the trio in the laundry room had advanced to the next room. Soon after they passed, the fog sealed the door again behind them.

“Those things sure are handy,” Orel said.

“How many you got?”

“I have only prepared a few.”

“Where are we?” Orel turned.

“This is the supply tunnel.” Slacume noticed.

A dark brick hallway full of pipes stretched in many directions with few lamps and doors on the way. It felt moist and cold like a cellar, expected for the lowest floor.

“We should find the stairs if we go this way.”

“Wait,” Isao said.

“Do you need to take a breather or what?”

“No. I have a question.”

“What?”

“Should we try to find the mage in control of this field?”

“Well, we could, but he could be anywhere.”

“That brings me to my next question. What type of spell is this?”

“The bound field? Well, I think it’s classified as a ritual. You can’t just cast it on the fly. It needs a bit of concentration, so you can’t use it in battle unless someone’s there to protect you.”

“So they cannot move?”

“Well, yeah. They’re probably near where they cast it.”

“Then, are there any rules where it can be cast?”

“Where? Not really. The only limits are concentration, the time it takes to cast, and...”

“And what?” Orel asked.

Slacume seemed nervous, with his eyes suddenly bulging out. “... He’s here.”

"What?” Orel turned.

“In the basement.” Slacume pointed down.

How do you know,” Isao asked.

“When casting a bound field, you essentially create a dome where you are in control, but the dome can’t be lower than the point you cast it. Meaning if they want to secure a place like this.”

“...They need to cast it in the cellar,” Orel understood.

“Even if he can move, he probably won’t go up because then someone could get in.”

“Does he know of our presence?” Isao asked.

“How would I know? Maybe, but then again, why would he send us down...”

“Could it be random?” Orel asked.“I mean the doors.”

“True, there’s no sense sending us closer to him.”

“My worry lies deeper. If it were meant for us to use doors, they would not respond well to different approaches.”

“You mean they’re coming for us?” Slacume asked.

“Perhaps”

In Bertim, Fawkes noticed something different about Agatha. Her face had changed from the usual calm demeanor to a slight grimace with lingering feelings of anger and confusion.

“Something wrong, ma’am?”

“I received a report from headquarters. We need to leave.”

“What? What about our investigation?”

“This is more urgent. Sir Lionel is in danger.”

“Oh, well, that explains” Fawkes nodded. “Do we take the car?”

“No, that will not be necessary.”

Agatha looked up. “...It is raining.”

“Oh, right. You want an umbrella?”

Agatha looked disappointed, glaring at Fleming.

“What?”

“Nothing” Agatha looked at her watch. “It should be about time now.”

Norman and Andras made their way to the officers on the other side of the village. Their steps were careful not to step on any soulless corpse.

“Do we walk there with our hands in the air?” Andras asked.

“What? No. We’re no criminals.”

“We stole a car.”

“Well, he did try and kill us.”

“But those two, they didn’t look like the rest.”

“You’re right, but the police are probably looking for us anyway.”

“Won’t they ask us where we’ve been?”

“What’s with you asking all these things?”

“Can’t you tell? I can’t do anything with this collar around my neck.”

“More the reason to go to the police. They must have the means to get it off.”

“I guess you’re right-” Andras fell.

A loud bang echoed from the end of the walkway. Norman saw Andras fall to the ground, where the hole in his chest started to pump out his blood on the street. His hands were shaking while his legs were about to give in. Norman’s brains went on overdrive, analyzing everything he could from the situation. It was the only thing that kept him from panicking, but it also took time, which he also knew they lacked. Norman could only come up with one solution in that small window of time. He jumped at Andras’ body and took cover. The moment their assailant blinked, the two had vanished. It was the only way Norman could save both of them, but they weren’t in the clear yet.

At the end of the street, the silent man grimaced with anger. He chambered a new round to his long-range rifle. Looking through his optic scope, the sniper spotted something peculiar. A splatter that should not be there. It was a trail of blood coming out of nothing, dripping from thin air. Confused but sure, he took a shot at it.

“Fuck!” Norman yelled.

Norman fell next to Andras, trying to keep his voice down. A radiating pain went through his leg, piercing through his bone. Norman tried to quickly patch up his leg, holding his other hand on Andras, else he would be seen.

“Andras, are you alright?” Norman whispered.

Coughing up blood from trying to utter something, Norman figured the bullet had pierced Andras’ lung, coughing up blood from trying to speak something. What he just thought at the exact moment was that because of the collar, Andras healed not one bit of flesh that the bullet shredded on its way.

Norman looked carefully to the way of the road yet saw nothing. He didn’t know where the shot came from but could tell from the sound that it was nearby. Many houses lay down in ruins, yet they provided the perfect space to hide. It was next to impossible to tell where the shooter was without any apparent signs.

The two were in the open, but they should be relatively safe as long as Norman kept his spell active. What bothered him was that he got shot as well, and with them both injured, retreating to safety would not be a quick rush. Meanwhile, their blood spilled on the streets, and if they were to move, even the stupidest could figure out something was wrong. Even if he activated incognito, there was no way Norman could drag both of them to safety while holding his breath. Norman thought through their options but could only come up with one. He had to play the waiting game.

The shooter heard the scream and watched down his sights more carefully than ever, keeping his finger ready. Suddenly for him, the blood was gone, leaving nothing but silence. He already felt vary of this trick, but figuring out what was happening before his eyes were something completely different.

The jingling sound of broken glass broke his thoughts. Something had smashed a window on a nearby house. Soon another was hit, then another. The sidewalk was filled with shards of glass, glimmering in the deep red night like the stars above.

There was no ringing sound of a shot, yet it didn’t seem likely that anyone would have thrown rocks at the windows. It was more than a desperate attempt if it was an attempt to lure him out or search the buildings. However much it tried to distract him, the man never took his eyes off the road.

Norman was desperate to gasp for breath with each beat of his heart. He resisted it, knowing it would deactivate incognito for both him and Andras. Though he would still be invisible, he wouldn’t be able to hide the blood. However good a mage he could be, controlling one’s body was next to impossible. Norman’s chest felt like it was about to burst, and it became harder for him to stay conscious. He could hold no longer. Norman finally gasped.

“Hmmm?” The sniper watched.

The narrow sightlines searched the streets, clicking in and out of the zoom. On the edge of the sidewalk, it caught something red. It looked like something was dragged across to the buildings on the left.

“Damn, they escaped.” The man put his sniper on the shoulder.

Finally, the man emerged from the shadows. The worn-out hunter’s outfit, the greyish beard below the small glasses. They belong to none other than Jack, yet something was different. His face no longer had the aloof smile of an elder but a stern stare of a beast hunting its prey. The scar around his cheek reminded Jack that patience is everything. One wrong move, a blink of an eye, or a moment of hesitation all could lead to death.

He took out a pistol from his hip and cocked it ready. Watching his surroundings, Jack crept towards the blood puddle. Jack could see it much clearer once he reached the point, yet something was wrong. The blood didn’t seem to lead to the sidewalk; rather, it looked more like something was dragged towards the road. They indeed pulled something, but it was too small for a human, and the marks were off. On the road, however, there was almost no blood. Jack could not understand, but he had to make a decision. If the two had fled while making a distraction, he was wasting his time, but if this is all part of their plan to confuse him, he should stay.

Then Jack heard something. A metallic clink. Before he could realize it, his hand was struck by something. Seeing his finger crush and twist, Jack yelled in pain and dropped the weapon. A coin dropped to the sidewalk.

Suddenly, Norman and Andras appeared on the road, still prone and injured. Norman’s plan had worked. He had taken some of their clothes off and laid them on the ground to absorb the blood. He also flung one of the bloody shirts to the sidewalk to make them seem to have moved away before dragging it back by the sleeve. Norman could hide both of them even with Spectre, but Incognito provided better cover when doing all of the previously mentioned steps.

Norman flung another coin, this time aiming for Jack’s head. The silver currency slowed down when it scratched Jack’s forehead open. Norman couldn’t believe his eyes. It seemed as if the coin had stopped. Before he could realize it, Norman found himself unable to move. His eyes were fixated in place, moving at a snail’s pace. In the corner of his eye, Norman spotted a blurry figure. It zoomed in on him like a bullet, and before he knew it, it gripped the coin from Jack’s face. A distorted voice calmly observed the situation.

“Coins? Interesting.” The human figure flicked it away.