Consciousness Space: silence fell around the round table.
An invisible pressure flowed slowly between the numbered seats, as if waiting for the Deputy’s final decision.
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, the Deputy’s low voice sounded again—not to issue orders, but to speak.
“I understand the situation.” The Deputy’s consciousness rippled slightly.
“The Church’s recent movements and personnel anomalies. You’ll continue gathering peripheral intel on the western continent, especially regarding the clues submitted by the Ninth Seat—they’re important. But before forming any further action, I need a more comprehensive assessment. For now… hold position.”
He paused, then announced in a tone devoid of emotion: “This meeting ends here.”
The moment the words left him, the Deputy’s towering consciousness silhouette rapidly faded and dispersed, being the first to exit the Consciousness Space.
The silhouettes of the Seventh Seat and Eighth Seat lingered in silence for a few seconds, seemingly surprised by the “hold position” decision, but no one raised objections.
Soon, their silhouettes also blurred and vanished in turn.
Sefina was the last to “leave.”
She slowly opened her eyes, her wine-red irises reflecting the familiar ceiling of her bedroom.
Outside the window, the night remained thick as ink, a few sparse stars flickering between gaps in the clouds.
“Knock, knock, knock—”
A measured knock sounded softly, breaking the stillness of the night.
“Come in.”
Sefina’s voice was calm, without a ripple.
The door swung open, and Feliel’s figure appeared in the doorway, her black hair making her face look especially pale in the dim light.
Her arrival was within Sefina’s expectations.
Feliel stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and cut straight to the point in a low voice: “The Deputy said hold position… Does he still not trust the evidence inside the demon tools?”
Sefina sat up from the bed, leaning against the headboard, and shook her head. Her expression held no disappointment or anxiety—rather, a hint of composed certainty.
“I think he will go.” Sefina’s voice was soft, yet carried a note of conviction.
“It’s just that, given his personality and paranoia, he’d never notify us in advance if he planned to act personally. He’ll probably pick his own time, go verify that Hidden Passage alone, and even… attempt to obtain a more direct ‘sample.'”
“So all we need to do is keep an eye on the Church’s vicinity, especially any abnormal mana fluctuations or disturbances around the Middle Courtyard Garden.”
Feliel’s black eyes glimmered as she grasped Sefina’s implication.
She nodded, wasted no words, and simply dropped a curt “Understood” before slipping out of the room silently, gently closing the door behind her.
Silence returned to the room. Sefina remained by the window, her gaze calm as she stared into the boundless darkness outside.
The bait laid out was already generous enough. Now, all that remained was to wait for him to take the hook.
Roughly three days after the meeting, in the early hours of the morning.
The surroundings of the Church were utterly still, its silhouette etched as a faint outline under the thin moonlight.
In the Middle Courtyard Garden, the shrubs were reduced to blurry shapes. The central fountain had long ceased, its surface coated with a thin layer of ice, reflecting a cold, pallid glimmer.
Within that stillness, on the open ground beside the fountain, the air suddenly rippled like water, and a figure materialized without warning.
He wore a mask covering the upper half of his face, topped with a black top hat wholly out of place for this era.
It was none other than the Deputy of Black Utopia.
He stood motionless, his gaze sharp as a hawk’s behind the mask, slowly scanning this seemingly ordinary garden.
The intel provided by the Ninth Seat was detailed, but its truth still required personal verification.
Still… the footage of that aberrant creature recorded by the demon tool could not possibly be fake.
That unprecedented life-form held incalculable research value for an organization pursuing forbidden knowledge and power.
If he could capture it alive, or bring back an intact corpse…
The Deputy weighed the risks and rewards in his mind. He raised one hand, palm facing down, as invisible mana seeped into the earth beneath his feet like fine tendrils, spreading into the depths.
A moment later, his motion ceased.
The mana feedback clearly indicated that directly beneath the fountain, within the rock layer, there was indeed a cavity—considerable in size, with a tendency to extend deeper.
It matched perfectly with the Ninth Seat’s description of “the garden corresponding above the Hidden Passage.”
The Ninth Seat’s intel was genuine.
The Deputy hesitated no longer.
He confirmed the weak point in the rock layer beneath his feet and the relative position of the space below, then slowly raised his wand, pointing it at the ground.
In that instant, the Deputy’s figure vanished from the garden and reappeared in the tunnel below.
The Deputy immediately suppressed all his presence, blending into the darkness like a shadow, swiftly surveying his surroundings.
The tunnel was wider than he’d expected—roughly twice his height and three times his width, built of coarse stone blocks, sloping steadily downward and disappearing into the darkness ahead.
The air was thick with the stench of mold and earth, along with a somewhat heavy scent of blood.
The space was eerily silent. There was none of the “chewing sounds” the Ninth Seat had described, nor any sign of living creatures moving.
Perhaps those things weren’t in their feeding time right now, possibly dwelling deeper within.
Maintaining the highest level of alertness, the Deputy began moving slowly down the tunnel.
His footsteps were featherlight, nearly soundless, his mana compressed to the utmost, sustaining only the most basic perception.
Aside from his own presence, the tunnel seemed utterly empty—no trace of rats or insects. That abnormal “cleanliness” itself seemed to carry a hint of the uncanny.
After a considerable stretch, the tunnel gradually leveled out, and ahead, a more open space faintly came into view. The scent of blood grew abruptly denser there, almost nauseating.
The Deputy halted at the entrance, his gaze piercing the darkness behind his mask, trying to discern what lay within.
A chaotic darkness; his vision was nearly useless. He carefully stepped forward two paces, entering this spacious Underground Chamber.
“Click.”
A crisp sound suddenly came from beneath the Deputy’s foot.
His form tensed slightly, his wand instantly slipping silently into his palm. He didn’t panic—just let the tip of his wand glow faintly, and a Light Orb bright enough to illuminate several meters around him materialized.
The light dispelled the thick darkness, revealing what he had stepped on—a pale human skeleton, with some dried, dark tissue still clinging to the bones. The corpse’s posture was heavily contorted, clearly an unnatural death.
And as the light extended further, the ground was littered with more than one set of bones. Some were incomplete, others still fresh, with flesh that hadn’t fully decayed attached.
A powerful stench of blood and rot rushed at him.
Just as the light illuminated that blood-soaked corner—
“Rustle, rustle…”
In the corners, several White-robed Creatures that had been curled against the walls suddenly stirred!
Not one or two, but seven or eight—or even more!
They seemed to have been roused from slumber, their movements stiff at first, but quickly turning agile.
In the darkness, pairs of eyes glowing with ghostly green fire, like lanterns simultaneously lit, all snapped open, locking onto the intruder’s position!
The air froze instantly. The Deputy tightened his grip on his wand, the corners of his mouth beneath the mask slowly drawing taut.