Suddenly Norman slumped to the ground. Jack stepped back as well. The once mysterious figure became much more detailed. A woman wearing a dark mantle over a familiar uniform made Norman break cold sweat. As her cold purple eyes stared back at him, Norman felt frozen in time, even though he had all the possibilities to move. It was a person more dangerous than just a regular mage. It was someone from the secret division of the army, and by the badges on her jacket, she was a secret agent and a high-ranking officer at that. Even if she was here to help, no one was safe from her judgment.

"Stop this violence. What is happening here?" Agatha asked.

Norman could not stop himself from panicking.

"...Please… help us." Andras coughed.

Agatha turned to Jack, who himself knew how dangerous the woman standing before him was.

"And who are you?"

"Beast hunter. Jacque Gessler." Jack tried playing along.

"Well, Mr. Gessler. What is that you are doing here?"

"Those two have stolen my vehicle." Jack wanted to seem as if he was pressing charges. "They assaulted me in the woods and left me there!"

"I see." Agatha raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?" She looked down on Norman.

"...Tobias Norman."

"That sounds familiar."

"We are part of the party…."

"Oh, you are from sir Lionel's party?" Agatha realized.

Jack seemed to grimace from those words.

"Then, can you please explain this situation?" Agatha asked.

"I-We got separated by the fog."

"And what does that have to do with your grand theft auto?" Agatha made her point. "And why is that man chained?"

"That man, he kidnapped Andras." Norman pointed at Jack. "I didn't know what to do, so I took the car and escaped here. Please, you got to help him. He's dying."

"This is more complex than I wanted." Agatha sighed. She looked at the wounds on both Norman and Andras, while Jack had barely any significant injuries.

"Mr.Gessler, why did you shoot these people?"

"I didn't know what they would do. I came after them and saw them around the corner."

"Bullshit! You ambushed us!" Norman said.

Agatha had no clear storyline to follow, so she decided to take them apart.

"These two are clearly unarmed. Why didn't you handle the situation more carefully?"

"I was terrified, ma'am. They have magic, so they wouldn't need a gun to hurt me. Just look what they did to my hand!"

"Mr. Gessler, why does that man have a restriction collar?"

"...I have no idea." Jack gulped.

"Really? As you said, if they have magic, why would they ever put it on?"

Jack quietly reached for his hidden gun while keeping his act up.

"I don't need collars. I don't hunt that way."

"I never said that it was yours. You also sound like you do know how to use them."

"Every half-good beast hunter knows how to use one."

"I see." Agatha glanced at the weapon on the ground. "Why, of all things, you have a semiautomatic pistol with you?"

Jack gritted his teeth under the fainting smile. Agatha seemed to react whenever he tried to reach for his gun. Jack needed to wait for a moment that her attention was somewhere else if he would take her out.

"Erm, you see-" Jack said.

"Excuse me, but my friend is dying over here!" Norman pressed Andras' wound.

"Making such a racket." Agatha turned. "Here, this should help."

With her hand hovering above Andras, Agatha chanted his magic. Norman didn't notice anything too different until he felt Andras' heartbeat. It beat slow, almost too quiet. Each beat lasted more than a second, but the bleeding seemed to slow down.

"He should be stable for a while longer, but you need to call some paramedics."

As her back was turned, Jack drew his weapon. Without missing a beat, he aimed at the back of her head. Then he pulled the trigger.

Another shot rang past the streets. The bullet traveled in the air for a split second, and Jack's cheeks rose to a gleeful smile. That moment seemed to take forever. Jack could see the bullet traveling towards Agatha's head. Then he realized the shell was still going but not making any progress. It had stopped, so too, Jack. With his finger still on the trigger, Jack noticed Agatha moving. With his eyes forced to watch, jack saw Agatha calmy turn her head. She stared down at him with the most horrific sneer possible. Her purple eyes lit by the blast, Agatha sprung her fist up to his jaw and sent Jack flying. Norman blinked when he heard the shot and saw something unexpected once they opened. There was jack, still flying. He was fixed in the air, slowly recoiling from the hard uppercut. Something was going on. The bullet was still spinning in the air, right next to Agatha's head. The bullet passed her by a hair's length with a slight lean to the right. It hit the wall on the other side of the street as Jack finally landed face-first on the asphalt.

"You are under arrest." Agatha took out a pair of handcuffs.

"Ma'am, is everything alright?" Fleming ran down the street.

Heaving and puffing, Fleming finally arrived on the scene.

"Everything is quite alright," Agatha said.

"You got off before I could say anything." Fleming stepped forward. "What happened?"

"You ask them. I merely caught this man trying to blow my brain matter to the streets." Agatha lifted Jack by the cuffs. "These two said they are part of the party."

"Well, at least we found them."

"Could you do something? Andras is dying over here!" Norman held his hand.

"Let's see." Fleming sat down. He observed around the bullet wound, noticing that the skin had started losing color. "No, there's not much we can do about this."

"Can you get the collar off?"

"I mean, I could, but what would that help?"

"Just do it!" Norman snapped.

"Fine, alright. If he can hold out for a few minutes, I can fetch the skeleton key." Fleming stood up.

After returning, Fleming presented a thin key carved from a single bone. Skeleton keys can be summarized as expensive to purchase, hard to make, but easy to use. They are popular with authorities because of their ability to grant access to any mechanical lock. It seemed like it would snap right as Fleming turned it, but instead, the lock clicked open.

"There, it should come off now." Fleming stashed the key in his pocket.

Even as the collar came off, Andras did not seem well. The rain poured down on his pale face, making him shiver. The blood was washed away by the rain, not that there was much left.

"Andras, Andras!" Norman shook the lifeless body.

"...Norman." Andras groaned.

"Wait, right. He needs more light." Norman realized.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Fleming asked.

"He can't heal without it."

"It's the middle of the night. Good luck finding any." Fleming shrugged.

Norman looked at the palm of his hand. "I know one way."

"Whatever it is, make it quick. We need to hurry to the castle, right, ma'am?" Fleming reminded.

"There is no rush. Our ride will take us there." Agatha said.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Fleming snapped his fingers. "We found your buddy."

"You mean Orel?" Norman turned. "Is he alright?"

"Was the last time we saw him. He and the monk and the butler went with the company."

Norman noticed a bit of uneasiness in Fleming as he finished the sentence. "Is everything okay there?"

"To put it mildly, no. We don't know the whole situation, but it sounds like the terrorists made a beeline there and took hold of the castle."

"Fleming, no more words." Agatha raised her finger.

"Oh, sorry. Pretend you didn't hear that."

"Can we go with you?" Norman asked.

"No." Agatha stepped in. "We cannot allow bystanders to interrupt our mission."

"Just take us there, and we'll try to search for him."

"Ma'am." Fleming leaned in. "They are on our search list. We kinda want to have them secured somewhere."

Agatha took a moment rolling her eyes behind her eyelids to calculate the best possible way of action.

"Let us talk about this after I hand this one to the police. Meanwhile, you make haste with whatever you are trying to do. There is not much time to waste." Agatha pulled Jack away.

Once she made herself move away in a flash of speed, Fleming felt something warm. As the man turned, he noticed a flash of light.

"What the hell is that?" Fleming stumbled before the spectacle.

"A little spell I got." Norman grinned.

A burning ball of light grew larger than a car, looming above Norman. Andras could feel its heat revitalizing him. The light and heat were less than Daniel's, which slowed down the process.

"You better heal already! I can't believe how that bastard could hold this for that long." Norman huffed.

Meanwhile, the chained Jack felt hopeless, getting dragged to prison. While he didn't care how he lived his life, Jack felt reminded of who he was doing this for. If he were going down, so would Annabelle. That would not do. That is why Jack had his last resort. A filling of the second molar was not a drug or cyanide but a spike filled with something that would certainly help if he were to die during a nightly hunt. With his options being life in prison or the death penalty, life as a fugitive would be enough to make more money. Thus he bit in.

Agatha couldn't tell the difference, other than the man had suddenly stopped. The next thing she could see was Jack's mouth foaming and growling. Before she realized something was wrong, the cuffs broke as Jack's muscles grew many times in size. The dark moonlight gave shadows to a vicious creature wrapped in tight-fitting clothing, barely resembling what he previously was. Armed with sharp claws, bone-crushing jaws, and powerful muscles, Jack howled in his new form.

"A werewolf?" Agatha stepped back.

"...For…Annabelle…" Jack muttered.

Seeing the beast getting ready to bounce, Agatha activated her spell.

"Ma'am, don't!" Fleming yelled.

Before she could hear what he was saying, Jack bounced forward. His movement barely slowed down, and Agatha could not escape. The pointy claws cut her arm open before she could step away. The wound was deep and made the hand almost unusable, save that it didn't snap any tendons.

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

"I should have realized it sooner. He infected himself with lycanthropy."

"Who would ever do such a thing?" Fleming asked.

"Someone desperate enough."

Norman heard the conversation. "I've heard of werewolves. Their hide is naturally magic resistant. They're pretty hard to kill during a full moon. Only holy things and things made of silver can kill it."

"Contracting such a vile curse voluntarily. The man must be insane." Agatha said.

"Can't you turn them back?" Fleming asked.

"With treatment, but only in the early stages, and not when they are transformed." Agatha dodged another attack. "We need to put him down."

"Andras could definitely help, but I need to heal him first," Norman said.

"My grimoire is full of spells, but none of them help against that."

"...Die!" Jack growled.

Agatha prepared herself for the worst by wrapping her arm. She was the only one with a standing chance and felt her responsibility. The beast jumped forward with its jaw wide open and claws ready to render flesh. Agatha tripped in her steps, leaving no time to dodge. The beast was already on its way.

"This is the end." Agatha thought.

A whistling sound echoed above. It became louder and louder until it hit. Jack smashed to the ground with tremendous force, crackling the pavement. A cloud of dust rose. From it appeared a man that stood on top of the beast, closing his umbrella.

"Wilde!" Agatha noticed.

"Sorry, ma'am. We took a bit longer than expected." Wilde jumped down. "You weren't at the rendezvous point, so I took to myself and scout above."

"you arrived just in time." Agatha nodded.

"Phew, I thought we were toast!" Fleming said.

Norman stopped his spell as he saw Andras standing up. The bullets dropped out of him as he stretched his hands.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine, thanks to you."

"Tell me if you need more. I still have some mana to spare."

"Who are those two?" Wilde looked over.

"Those are the missing party members," Fleming said.

"I see. Then what's that beast?"

"Some lunatic." Fleming shrugged.

"We still need to secure him." Agatha reminded.

"Why don't you use this collar?" Norman asked.

"That will have to make do for now."

"I will go fetch it." Fleming walked away.

"Is it dead?" Wilde looked at Jack.

"Werewolves are pretty durable," Norman said. "He might be playing dead."

"I might have gone a bit rough on him. When I saw that, I just increased my weight as much as possible. Maybe to a ton or two."

"Be careful around him-"

Agatha could barely finish the sentence as Jack stood up. Wilde couldn't even lift his head before Jack had already jumped. He knew they beat him, meaning there was only one option remaining.

"Don't let him run away!" Agatha said.

"Fuck!" Wilde realized.

With each step, Jack leaped tens of meters forward. Before Wilde could even jump, Jack was gone.

Agatha breathed out. "I will write a report on him. We have his face and name. There are more serious matters we need to attend to."

"What, really?" Wilde asked.

"I will explain on the way." Agatha walked away.

"Are those two coming with us?"

"Sigh, yes."

"Are we going to see Orel?" Andras asked.

"Hopefully." Norman kept walking.

A dark office lit barely by a white screen with only one person inside loomed with darkness. The person sitting on an office chair seemed tired, but the number of papers on his desk told him to continue. It had been hours since he had a break, but he was not done yet. His work had barely begun. The only thing keeping him awake was responsibility, money, and coffee.

"Who is this?" The man clicks on the screen.

"Ms. Mauve." A feminine voice echoed from the screen.

"Oh, right." The man straightened his back.

"Have you researched into it?"

"No, I haven't had the time yet." The man sighed.

"I thought you had connections?"

"These things need time. I'm a private business, not a central intelligence network."

"And I was hoping that you were beyond these things." The voice sighed. "Do you have the information I requested?"

"Yes, that's pretty much the only thing I could manage at this time."

"Well?"

"The towns you mentioned. I checked the files and three names came up. I sent them to you."

The voice had a small window of silence.

"I see. Have you shared this information with anyone?"

"No, You're the first one to hear about this from me. I've heard the ADF already checked these things out too. Not surprised by that."

"Is there anything else we should know about them?"

"They didn't first seem to have anything written about them, but I got a few leads from other sources. The black market sells everything for the right amount."

"Did they buy something?"

"Magic items. All sorts of stuff."

"Anything worth noting?"

"Pretty interesting, but maybe not for you. I also have some interesting reports you might want to look into."

"Concerning what?"

"Have you heard of the High king's talons?"

"I cannot say I haven't, but I thought we already cleared those lunatics?"

"You did not hear this from me, but there is a word out there that the clergy made a deal with some families."

"You don't suppose that-"

"Well, that is just a hunch, but these people had no previous records, and suddenly they appeared to work in those towns."

"Looks like further investigations will have to be unofficial. Even if we had info on them, I would not have access to it.

"Yeah, even I don't have that much data on them. Those priests sure know how to keep secrets. Good luck with that."

"Thank you, Marcus."

"No worries, 'Ms. Mauve'. I will have the rest of what you paid for done by the morning."

Agatha silently walked back to the group.

"Forgive me. I had to make a call."

"We're ready, ma'am," Conrad stood up.

"Good, we shall embark immediately."

"Is the car going to be fast enough?" Norman asked.

"We are not going by car." Agatha corrected.

Inside the castle, Diarmuid made way to the stairs. Behind him was destruction, a hole after a hole of walls.

"I hope sir Lionel's insurance covers this." Diarmuid looked at the intensive damage.

He found himself in yet another hallway. Like the previous ones, this one was also full of undead gurgling. Though killing them was far from difficult, it started to tire him out. He sliced through them with ease, drenching himself in blood. Just as he was about to cut another one, he felt a sudden chill. Leaping back, he saw that one of the undead carefully tried to touch him instead of scratching and flailing around.

"...Who are you?" Diarmuid asked.

"Damn, you found me out." A voice said from the crowd. "Guess there's no point in hiding."

A person stepped from the group, wearing a stolen security guard outfit. A young man smiled ominously with blood splattered all over his slim face and shining blond hair. Two strains of braids on each side of his face hanged like nooses, with tips tipped in blood like paintbrushes. His eyes glimmered like red gemstones, yet with sharp edges that you wouldn't want to cut your hands with.

"It's polite to introduce yourself before trying to kill someone," Diarmuid said.

"Sorry, but I don't believe in those old-time manners. If you really want to know, the name is Tuatcnoc."

"Interesting name. Are you from here?"

"You really like asking questions, but shouldn't you tell your name?"

"Nope. I'm not stupid enough to give my name to an enemy."

"Guess I fell to that trick."

"Not that I trust that to be your real name."

"You're right about that."

"But what's a young buck like yourself being a terrorist?" Diarmuid sneered.

"Isn't it said that the youth are the future, old man?"

"With that kind of life choices, the only future you have is in prison."

"You old people never understand. The world never changes with your cogs and rules. Your rules, people, society, all of it is so old."

"It ain't perfect, but we at least got the wisdom not to make stupid mistakes. Also, I'm not that much older than you, so stop with the old man talk."

"Yeesh, then I just need to feel sorry for your face."

"So, are you going to come nicely, or do I need to teach you a lesson?" Diarmuid cracked his knuckles.

"Well, I was going to try and murder all of you."

"Then try a bit harder."

"Oh, I'll show you." Tuatcnoc Smiled with his face wrinkled by anger.

Diarmuid kept his distance. It seemed that these people were as dangerous as he feared. Though one shouldn't make quick conclusions, Tuatcnoc's magic relied on touch and close combat. Whatever the effect was, he should avoid touching at all costs. This was unfortunate, as he leaned on close-quarters action as well. He only had his basic equipment, including a knife and a pistol. Those two would have to make due for now.

Tuatcnoc suddenly touched one of the undead. It started running towards Diarmuid. He didn't know if Tuatcnoc was the one controlling the undead, but he did something.

As the zombie came closer, it suddenly jumped in the air. Diarmuid thought it was an attempt to pin him down, so he prepared to dodge. The zombie suddenly inflated like a water balloon and exploded. Diarmuid covered his face as blood and bone splinters splattered towards him. Thankfully, Diarmuid escaped unscathed, though the blood was hot enough to burn his skin.

"Odd, I was sure you'd become a pincushion," Tuatcnoc said.

"I'm made tougher than most."

"Don't try bullshitting me. I can see those runes on your arm, Erilaz."

"And I thought your eyes were merely for show," Diarmuid looked at the glowing red eyes.

"Yes, I got a nice pair of Nazar." Tuatncoc rubbed his fingertip on the pupil. "Kaleidoscope: Maroon chauffeur."

"Hmm, so you heated the blood and made him explode. Nasty."

"Looks like I need to rip those runes out of your hands!" Tuatcnoc changed forwards with the zombies.

Diarmuid had had enough and pulled out his pistol. The zombies stop like regular people when you shoot them in the head, provided that you hit them. Diarmuid shot the zombies down but soon noticed that Tuatcnoc was gone. There was a hole in the wooden floor as if the floorboards had bent down. Diarmuid instinctively looked around, but Tuatcnoc was nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you, smartass?"

The hole seemed suspicious. Diarmuid carefully walked next to it. The blanks bent down, and the inside material gave away like punching a hole through wet paper.

Diarmuid looked over and saw Tuatcnoc hanging from a nearby chandelier.

Tuatcnoc awkwardly waved. "How's it hanging?"

Diarmuid shot with his free hand. The bullets lodged in Tuatcnoc clothes, and he fell down to the lower floor.

Diarmuid jumped down with the help of the chandelier and kept far from the body. He saw it twitching, and not a second later, the man sprung to life and screamed in pain. There was no blood whatsoever apart from the old that had already hardened.

"Aw, fuck! You shot me!" Tuatcnoc complained like a child.

Diarmuid shot him in the head but noticed the bullet bouncing off, leaving only a red mark.

"Ow, that hurt, you know?" Tuatcnoc rubbed his forehead. "I didn't expect the floor to be so thin."

"I see. You can change the material composition of things." Diarmuid also noticed a change in eye color from red to green but did not mention it.

"Softening a bullet is one thing, but it still hurts like a motherfucker." Tuatcnoc frowned.

"Clean your mouth before I blow it off."

"How about you shut the fuck up."

"Respect your elders, or you won't get any candy."

"I'm starting to get really tired of you."

"Then at least try and impress me."

"How about this? Kaleidoscope: Café au lait Marais!" Tuatcnoc slammed his foot to the ground.

The tiles vibrated like waves on water. Diarmuid had trouble keeping his balance on the rippling stone and, at the same time, noticed something about Tuatcnoc. Him being barefoot had slipped from Diarmuid's mind, but now he realized it was all on purpose.

"Don't you catch a cold without shoes?"

"Drop dead!"

Diarmuid felt his feet sink to the stone. When he tried stepping out, they only slipped further down.

"That's more like it! Drown in your shit, just like the others!" Tuatcnoc laughed.

"Heh." Diarmuid laughed.

Tuatcnoc noticed that somehow Diarmuid had stopped sinking. He was smiling.

"What's wrong? Did a fish bite your tongue?"

"What did you do?"

"Why don't you come to find out?"

Even Tuatcnoc could see it was a trap, but like a magic trick, the whole point was that he had no idea how it worked. Diarmuid couldn't swim in it, nor did it seem he was. Tuatcnoc could only manipulate matter but not sense it. Thus, whatever Diarmuid was doing was a complete mystery to him.

Tuatcnoc came up with a possible explanation. There might happen to be a pipe underneath Diarmuid, something that could still hold shape by being made of stronger material.

Suddenly, Diarmuid jumped down. He sunk underneath the surface. Tuatcnoc was caught off guard. He ran toward the spot, keeping himself on top.

"He drowned himself. No, there must be something going on." Tuatcnoc said. "Largaoth, I'm on the first-floor hall. Is there anyone alive underneath me?"

"...There is."

"That coward slipped down to the lower floor!"

Tuatcnoc jumped inside the rock, sinking like a heavy stone.

"...Tuatcnoc, wait!" Largaoth said.

A sharp pain appeared on Tuatcnoc's side. Something stabbed deeply with a short edge. After the initial surprise, Tuatcnoc realized he was outplayed. Diarmuid hadn't escaped down a layer; he waited underneath by holding on to the pipe. Tuatcnoc tried to swim up, but something gripped his leg.

"Seriously? Is he trying to drown us both?" Tuatcnoc thought.

Tuatcnoc had to reveal the last card up his sleeve.

"Kaleidoscope: Double Ombre!" Tuatcnoc chanted.

Searing heat enveloped Diarmuid's hand from the foot he was gripping. It was like putting your arm inside an oven. His runes could not help him. Diarmuid could not let Tuatcnoc escape, but the heat in his arm rose with each second.

"Give up already! Are you ready to lose your arm? I'm not going to lose to some old fuck! I got my life ahead of me! I need to change the world! I need to taste some of that sap wine and get some of those gummies! These people are the ones not letting me do it!"

Tuatcnoc stopped thinking for a moment, for he realized something.

"How long have I been down here? Isn't this dangerous? How long has it been? I feel strange. No, I don't want to..."

Diarmuid had only one goal. If his hand would burn to crisp, he would simply replace it with the other while holding on to the pipe with his legs. However, that was not needed, as Tuatcnoc had fallen unconscious. Diarmuid didn't realize this before Tuatcnoc's spell was undone, and the two rose back to the floor.

Though only one of them rose, and it was Diarmuid.