Time rewinds to roughly one hour earlier.
Feliel’s figure was quietly concealed in a recess behind a stained glass window on the third floor. From this angle, she could clearly overlook the entire Middle Courtyard Garden, covered in night and a thin layer of snow.
Her black eyes almost blended into the background in the darkness, with only the occasional glimmer sweeping across the scenery below, revealing an unusual level of focus.
She and Sefina had been taking turns keeping watch here for three whole days.
During that time, aside from low-ranking clergy on night patrol occasionally hurrying past with lanterns, the garden was silent except for the sound of wind and snow.
The Deputy’s figure remained absent for a long time, a clear sign of his heavy suspicion and cautious nature.
However, perseverance paid off.
On the third day after the meeting concluded, in the brief lull when the wind and snow momentarily subsided, Feliel caught sight of that long-awaited figure.
He wore a mask and a tall hat, draped in an ancient robe, and appeared abruptly in the open space beside the Fountain.
After a careful inspection and confirmation, the Deputy suddenly vanished as if swallowed by space itself.
The fish had finally taken the bait.
Feliel made no move at all, her breathing even softer and slower, her mana fluctuations suppressed to nearly nothing.
She knew that against an existence of the Deputy’s caliber, even the slightest anomaly could be detected.
She merely watched silently as her prey stepped into the trap’s first stage, following the preset path.
The time had come.
Feliel slipped silently from her hiding spot, following a route she had long since memorized, and quickly left the surrounding area to return to where Sefina was waiting.
“He went in. The Middle Courtyard Garden, just as you predicted.”
“He used [Teleportation].”
Feliel reported to Sefina, who was at the table, in concise terms.
Sefina looked up, a sharp gleam of anticipated certainty flashing through her wine-red eyes. She set down her tools, rose to her feet, and spoke:
“Let’s go.”
Just a few minutes later, the two appeared at the edge of the Middle Courtyard Garden.
Fine snow had begun to drift down again at some point, silently covering the ground, dyeing everything in a hazy silver white.
“Proceed with the plan as discussed?” Feliel’s voice was pitched extremely low, almost buried under the sound of falling snow.
Sefina did not answer immediately.
She tilted her head slightly, as if listening for faint vibrations from the earth beneath her feet, her wine-red eyes fixed intently on the area at the center of the Fountain.
Sefina shook her head, her voice equally soft: “No rush. Wait for the commotion below.”
The two stood like snow-covered sculptures, waiting quietly in the shadows at the garden’s corner.
Time passed minute by minute, snow accumulating in a thin layer on their shoulders.
After several minutes, a muffled sound echoed faintly from deep below, but it quickly faded back into silence, so brief that one might wonder if it was an illusion.
“Make our move?”
Feliel asked again, her fingertips already touching the pouch of Magic Stones at her waist.
Sefina shook her head once more, her gaze calm and steady:
“Wait a little longer. The disturbance is too small, the end came too fast.”
“It might have triggered low-level Monsters on the periphery, or a probing skirmish. The Pope… that High-Ranking Individual, probably hasn’t been truly stirred yet. Or perhaps the Deputy is deliberately avoiding a direct clash.”
Sefina judged from experience.
What she needed was for two tigers to fight, ideally reaching a stalemate, not one side winning quickly or slipping away easily.
Another moment passed.
Suddenly, a clear, muffled rumble came from the ground beneath their feet.
Then came continuous collisions of mana, accompanied by dull, booming impacts. Even through the thick layers of rock and soil, the unsettling surge of energy could be felt.
The very air seemed to tremble with it, and the thin ice on the Fountain’s surface let out fine, cracking sounds.
Sefina’s gaze sharpened. The scale of this disturbance was entirely different from before.
In her wine-red eyes, the calm and edge of a plan entering its critical stage interwove.
“They’ve clashed.” Sefina said in a low voice, her tone certain.
“Proceed with the plan!”
Sefina no longer hesitated, giving Feliel a decisive order.
Feliel was already prepared. Her form moved like lightning, swiftly sweeping to several pre-calculated points throughout the garden.
Then she quickly produced five Magic Stones the size of fists, engraved with precise Magic Array Patterns.
These Magic Stones were “Subfunctions” that Sefina had prepared in advance over considerable time, using her original “Programming-style Magic” concept.
Each stone had a highly modular segment of a magic Array fixed within, lacking the ability to cast spells on its own, yet functioning like gears in a precision instrument, capable of working in tandem.
Feliel embedded the five Magic Stones accurately into their preset positions, then pressed both hands in a hover above the central stone that served as the “main function.”
She closed her eyes and focused, injecting activating mana of specific frequencies and intensities into all five stones simultaneously.
“Activate——”
All five Magic Stones lit up with a deep purple glow at the same time, the Runes on their surfaces flowing rapidly like illuminated circuits.
The light extended and connected to one another, tracing a three-dimensional, intricate phantom of a Magic Array in the air.
The Magic Fields generated by the five stones overlapped, and a barrier covering most of the garden slowly rose from the ground, finally sealing shut above.
Eighth-Tier Magic — [Prison Lock].
This magic had a unique effect. While the barrier persisted, all magic cast within its range would face severe interference and suppression, making successful construction and release nearly impossible.
Normally, casting Eighth-Tier Magic required corresponding mana reserves and no small amount of incantation preparation time. Feliel currently lacked the conditions to cast it independently.
But Sefina’s “Programming-style Magic” had “industrialized” the process, allowing Feliel merely to “activate” these stones in the correct order to unleash a nearly complete Eighth-Tier Magic effect within a short time, bypassing her tier.
The pale purple barrier membrane rippled faintly in the snowy night, shrouding the garden’s central area in an unusual stillness.
Outside, the falling snow touched the barrier’s surface and silently slid off or vanished.
Sefina watched the successfully deployed barrier, a glimmer of satisfaction flashing through her eyes.
This way, the Deputy, locked in fierce combat below, would have his [Teleportation] magic, his means of escape, completely neutralized.
He would be firmly “locked” underground, forced to continue his deathmatch with the equally trapped Pope.
“Keep the Array maintained here, and stay hidden. The barrier can interfere with magic, but physical detection may still get through.” Sefina instructed Feliel.
“I’ll go complete my part of the task.”
Feliel nodded, sitting cross-legged beside the central node Magic Stone, both hands maintaining her mana output, her presence nearly merging with the surrounding shadows.
She watched Sefina’s petite yet upright back as she moved silently toward the garden’s center, heading into the Church’s interior.
Sefina’s steps were steady, the hem of her cream-white coat brushing lightly over the snow.
Her wine-red eyes, reflected in the night, gleamed with a calm and resolute light.
When the oyster fights, the fisherman profits.
Now, it was time for her to meet those two trapped beasts and collect her due.