Albert and his companions reflexively took two steps back—not because they were afraid of the cloaked figures, but to stifle their laughter at the sight of Zavi prostrating himself while clutching his crotch.
A few seconds later, Albert raised his head slightly. His gaze moved to the right, to the left, then to the rear, alert to the possibility of a simultaneous attack from one of the cloaked figures above them.
Then, from the left, he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Albert turned his head and saw Moreira walking towards him.
Suddenly, Albert raised one hand. Feyne, Luke, Moreira, and the robed man immediately stared at him intently.
"I'm just a passer-by who happens to run a business. Nothing more," said Albert.
He took a short breath, choosing his next words carefully.
"Maybe the person you're looking for is there." Albert pointed at Moreira.
Moreira's eyes widened. "Hey, hey. You bastard! Why are you pointing at me?" he exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise.
The robed figure who had previously kicked Zavi in the groin lowered his hood. His face was now exposed—a pale-skinned woman with black hair cascading down to her shoulders and blue eyes that sparkled like stars in the night sky, making her elegance striking.
"What do you mean?" she asked, walking slowly around Albert.
Albert stared at her blankly, without emotion.
"Huh? Miss, didn't you hear what I said earlier?"
...Click.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Zavi pulled the trigger without hesitation. Shot after shot hit the woman's body until the magazine was empty—not a single bullet left.
"Ughh..." Her cloak was torn in several places. From the bullet hole in her chest, blood flowed slowly, seeping through and soaking the dark fabric until it turned deep red.
The woman staggered and knelt down. One hand covered her mouth, her breathing was ragged and intermittent.
"Damn... you..." she muttered softly.
"Huh... not bad," commented the man who had been talking to them earlier, his tone almost sounding amused.
Albert and his companions looked up simultaneously. Moreira was also transfixed, his mind in turmoil—this situation was completely different from any plan he had in mind.
Finally, he decided to approach Zavi and the others. The ten robed figures were too dangerous to face alone. A temporary alliance seemed like the only reasonable option.
But his steps suddenly stopped.
Moreira's eyes widened.
The woman—who should have been dying—slowly stood up. The wounds on her body began to close, the blood stopped flowing, and her breathing returned to normal, as if the recent shooting had never happened.
It didn't make sense. Was this woman a monster...? thought Moreira, his throat feeling dry.
Meanwhile, Zavi knew that this situation would happen.
He took a deep breath and put his gun in his pocket.
'It doesn't make sense. Is she no longer a normal human being? What chance does a normal human have against someone with terrifying supernatural abilities?
thought Zavi. He didn't know what would happen next.
Just as he was about to give up, Albert stepped up behind him, patted him on the shoulder, smiled slightly and said, "Don't forget that we're here to help you..."
Zavi turned his head. His blue eyes, which had looked resigned a moment ago, now sparkled again after hearing those words.
He smiled slightly.
"Yes," he replied, while thinking, planning his next move.
Albert took a silver revolver from under his coat and handed it to Zavi. He knew that the weapon he had given him before was useless now—Zavi had no ammunition left.
Zavi accepted the revolver carefully.
"Thank you. Are you interested in my shooting skills?"
Albert chuckled softly, as if they weren't surrounded by enemies.
Luckily, he used to play shooting games when he was fourteen. Plus war games... it turned out to be useful, Zavi thought to himself.
The street suddenly fell silent. Only the night wind swept through the narrow alley, mixed with their breaths and heartbeats.
The silence was broken by a flash of lightning—a quick light that flashed on the left side. Five cloaked figures on the roof were forced to jump down.
"Huh? That was fast... What was that just now?" muttered one of them.
Tap.
The five cloaked figures stood in a row on the left side of the alley, staring at the man who now stood before them.
"That strange creature has disappeared," he said. "And it made me shiver when I saw it. I know you sent it to me, Lucian... Alistair."
'Huh, lucky it's gone, and since when did I become afraid of that creature, anyway?' he thought in surprise.
Carlz wiped his glasses with a soft cloth, then put them back on with precision. He pressed the frame and stared at his old friend for a few seconds with a sharp gaze while smiling in admiration.
Lucian was impressed by Lucian for having done what he had been told to do back when they were fellow members of the heretical sect Cunwoquam.
Lucian, standing in the centre, slowly lowered the hood of his cloak, then threw it behind him, revealing a brown shirt, long black trousers and leather boots. "It's been a long time. Are you well—"
The sentence trailed off.
Lucian's gaze suddenly wavered. Carlz's face in front of him shifted from side to side, fragmented. The world seemed to spin aimlessly.
He knelt down, his brow furrowed deeply. He hadn't even realised that he couldn't see or hear anything, because he was trapped in an illusion.
It wasn't just Lucian who was affected by the illusion; his other companions felt what he felt, including the five people who were still standing on the roof, then plunged down after being affected by the illusion.
The vision of the ten cloaked figures collapsed simultaneously.
Sound disappeared first, leaving total silence, like a world suddenly buried deep under water. Then their vision faded, colours and shapes peeling away from reality.
But the darkness was not empty.
Behind their eyes, shadows began to appear.
Their forms were never complete—distorted, elongated, moving without a source of light. The silhouettes stood too close, as if breathing right on the back of their necks. Some crawled on the walls, some hung upside down in the air, others just stood still... staring.
Carlz and the others saw nothing but their own bodies staggering, losing their balance, searching for a way out with what they had felt.
But for the ten cloaked figures, the shadows were real. Existing between the subconscious and the real world, they saw events that they should not remember and saw other things that could hurt their minds and hearts.
They saw hands reaching out from corners of their vision that should no longer exist. Dark mouths opened without sound. Blurred faces drew near, then receded, only to reappear in different places.
Some of them screamed—but no sound came out. Others fell, covering their faces with trembling hands, as if that could ward off something that could not be touched.
The illusion did not show death. The illusion showed something waiting. And as long as Carlz remained standing, the shadows would not leave.
A few seconds after the ten people were completely trapped, blood began to spurt from Carlz's mouth. His vision flickered, and each breath felt like his chest was being forcibly pumped, painful, as if it would explode from within.
He wanted to scream, but he held back the pain.
His body had passed its limit, but he forced himself to endure—long enough for the robed figures to be dragged away, disappearing into the illusion without time, losing their two most important senses in the real world.
As the illusion's influence began to fade, the ten robed figures stared at Carlz with suppressed expressions—not anger, but bodies trembling with fear.
Seeing the opening, Albert finally pulled out the five talismans he had been holding and threw them, one talisman for each of the two robed figures.
The ten robed figures vanished from their previous location, heading towards another talisman point in the forest, situated directly beneath the steam train bridge, at the border between Moran and the royal capital.
A few seconds later, his body grew extremely weak, and his consciousness began to fade. Before his body could fall onto the cold, rain-soaked stones of the road, Zavi caught him with his arm.
"You always push yourself. Your plan wasn't so bad after all," said Zavi, smiling kindly.