The next night, Adam still didn't go looking for Adel.
He needed Adel to stew in his anxiety a little longer. Let him simmer. Let him suffer.
But not for too long—if Adel completely broke down and did something drastic, it would be far more trouble than it was worth to bring him under control.
So Adam decided he'd go see Adel tomorrow night.
He left only a brief message in the cellar, mentioning that he had found a way to hide his abnormalities and would come by when he had time.
A touch of mystery, laced with just enough fear—Adam knew that was all he needed to turn Adel into a tool for his own use.
After fiddling with a half-cracked painting on the table, Adam said goodbye to Magialis, glanced at Lina who was still fast asleep, and stepped out.
He entered through the side door, smiling and greeting every monk he passed.
Adam remembered every monk's name, their rank, even the small personal preferences they'd let slip.
That meant his greetings often turned into short, pleasant conversations.
Sure, there were still a few monks who didn't like him—Brother Robb from the security office, for instance, or those blue-blooded types who looked down on commoners.
But more and more monks had begun to accept Adam. His diligence and eagerness to learn were obvious, and when paired with his charm, smooth talk, and handsome face, it made for a very likable presence.
Even Brother Jim, who used to haggle with Adam over every little thing, was now chatting with him more willingly.
After all, Adam was Alva's student. A commoner, yes—but if he stayed the course, he'd earn himself a decent social standing. Building a good relationship with him now wasn't a bad idea.
Monks were still human, after all. They had faith, yes, but also needs and ambitions of their own.
Take Friar Fula, for example. He rejected the nobility's advances and didn't care much for social niceties, but no one dared to cross him.
Everyone knew—at least on some level—that the Prior had high hopes for Fula.
Speaking of Fula, Adam realized he hadn't seen him in quite a while. Ever since Fula brought him to the church, he'd practically vanished.
Adam made a mental note of that as he returned to his usual chores and studies.
It was another full day of errands, but this time, Alva began to teach him more. When assigning material mixing tasks, he'd briefly mention the function of each ingredient, and even gave the occasional tip while Adam worked.
Adam glanced over at the room where the Prior resided, his mind deep in thought.
Alva still couldn't remember his name. That meant he still looked down on him. A man like Alva rarely forced himself to care about people he deemed beneath him.
"Unless… someone talked to him," Adam mused. "Fula hasn't been around lately, so it must've been the Prior."
But why?
"Did I somehow earn his approval?" Adam wasn't so sure. He knew himself well—he had strong natural charisma. Animals warmed up to him instantly, and even humans who held prejudices against him often changed their minds after spending time with him.
But even that charm had limits. It didn't work on people like the Prior or Alva—those who could see straight through a person's core.
Even if Adam turned up the charm to full blast, they could still smell the rot beneath.
There were always a few people who could see past the façade.
The Prior was one of them. Adam was sure of it. The man hadn't figured out he was a werewolf yet, but he definitely suspected Adam was using Fula for some hidden purpose.
"So... is he trying to save me?" Adam chuckled softly, making no further comment.
Time flew by. As Alva wandered off, tipsy and swinging a wine bottle, Adam bowed his head and began gathering trash and cleaning supplies.
"It's been three days since I took Adel's things," he thought. "He must've fallen deep into anxiety by now. If he hasn't been caught doing anything suspicious during this time, it likely means the Church hasn't been watching him."
Which meant it was safe to make contact.
Adam wanted Adel on his side—he needed to grow his power base—but he wasn't about to throw caution to the wind. Getting himself exposed just to gain one follower? Not worth it.
"Four more days until the full moon." Back in the attic, Adam looked up at the sky. Now that he had transformed once, he could feel the blood in his veins surging again, his inner power restless, straining to break free.
Leaping from the attic, Adam disappeared into the night, but this time he didn't head straight for the slums.
Instead, he de-transformed, pulled out a set of monk robes, and changed into them.
Thanks to frequent dealings with Brother Jim—who managed the church's procurement and often discussed fresco materials with Adam—it hadn't been hard to swipe a new robe without raising suspicion.
Jim himself was so corrupt and careless, he probably wouldn't notice a missing robe if his life depended on it.
Adam then donned a rough, ashen-colored mask. It was made from the same material used for wall frescoes, but left unpainted, giving it a mysterious and eerie appearance.
To avoid tipping off anyone knowledgeable, Adam had disguised the mask further. As long as it didn't end up in Alva's hands, no one would suspect what it was made of.
"Controlling Adel isn't about strength. It's about fear. Fear is a blade—and I'll use it to slice through every one of Adel's defenses."
"Not that I'm completely defenseless without transforming," Adam thought, activating his heightened awareness. In this state, every detail around him became sharp, every presence easier to sense.
In a real fight, it might still expose his lack of raw power.
"But for a little show of mystery? This will do just fine."
He cleared his throat, coughed a few times, and altered his voice to sound different. His shoes had thick soles to fake extra height.
Everything was ready.
Following the carefully planned route, Adam made his way toward Adel's home.