Chapter 1051
Massacre (Request Monthly Passes!)
“Salastro…” Sherlock mused, “That’s the name of the leader of the Land of Light in the opera ‘Lulu’s Magic Flute’, right?”
“That’s correct.” Eivass nodded. “It’s a Divine Artifact for the profession of ‘Pied Piper’, and can even be used after promotion. It looks like a sword, but it’s actually a baton. By wielding it, one can easily create illusions of light, which can provide an extremely powerful boost.”
“…A promoted profession of ‘Pied Piper’?” Arsen felt a bit awkward but also curious. “But the ‘Pied Piper’ profession is a high-tier profession. It should be usable up to the Fifth Tier.”
“That’s right.” Eivass nodded. “I’m talking about the Sixth Tier.”
With the death of the Fallen Heavenly Envoy and the beginning of the Ouroboros Ring ritual… he was now becoming more and more blatant.
“According to my information,” Eivass continued, “the ‘Pied Piper’ profession has the possibility of advancing to the Sixth Tier. Its Sixth Tier name is ‘Queen of the Night’…” He paused and then added something that probably no one would believe: “Just assume Lord of Scales and Feathers told me.”
…”Just assume,” was it?
“The Sixth Tier…” Arsen’s eyes were full of longing. “I don’t even hope for the Sixth Tier… I’d be content if I had a chance to even touch the Fifth Tier.”
Hearing this, Eivass merely chuckled. “You will.”
It was only now that the Fifth Tier could still be considered exceptional. It was currently May—at most three months, and the Ouroboros Ring ritual would enter its second cycle. By then, the level cap would be raised to level 70, with a theoretical maximum even reaching the Eighth Tier and a usual maximum of Seventh Tier. This was akin to a 2080 graphics card. Before the 2080 Ti was released, it was undoubtedly a flagship model. But after the 40 series was released, it might not even beat a 4060.
“…Really?” Arsen was quite surprised by Eivass’s words.
“Of course.” Eivass affirmed. “In at most three months, you will steadily advance to the Fifth Tier.” This wasn’t an empty promise. After all, Arsen had been stuck at the Fourth Tier for a long time, and the “Tide of Transcendence” was the easiest way to resolve such bottlenecks. If he was lucky, he might even break through in a few days at the end of the month. It wasn’t just Arsen; Sherlock was in the same situation.
“Then I’ll take that as a good omen…” Arsen clasped his hands together, genuinely grateful. “My biggest dream in this life is to advance to the Fifth Tier.”
This seemingly steady and reliable, somewhat dissolute uncle, now appeared like a dreaming youth, envisioning the future. “After I got married, I basically gave up my Phantom Thief career… partly for appearances, you see. If I were to be caught, it wouldn’t be good for the family. But the biggest reason was actually that I felt my Extraordinary Power had stagnated. No matter how I tried to create ‘greater art,’ I was stuck at this stage. After that, I took up a secondary profession… my work involved designing stages for others, mainly for Magicians or orchestras. But I must say… the more I witnessed the ‘beauty’ of others, the more I yearned for it in my heart. Looking at beautiful things makes one’s own soul more beautiful. Just as a writer can draw nourishment from the works of others, a musician listens to the music of others to make up for inner deficiencies… just as wisdom can be replicated through sharing, beautiful things reinforce each other and become more numerous. Perhaps this is why the Pillar God of the Path of Beauty is called the Twin Mirrors.” Arsen sighed.
There was a rare moment of quiet in the carriage, with everyone earnestly listening to the Phantom Thief’s rare moment of sincerity. Arsen himself, seeing everyone listening so intently, felt a bit embarrassed. He couldn’t help but casually ask, “Where are we going? Have you found the murderer?”
“Yes, we have.” Eivass nodded. “It’s Count Harlick—am I right?” He looked at Sherlock for confirmation halfway through his sentence. Sherlock recalled and nodded affirmatively, “That’s right.” Although he had absolute confidence in his memory and felt there was no need to check again… out of caution, he hesitated for a long time before opening his document bag and carefully rereading the evidence and analysis he had written down. Sherlock’s face immediately darkened, and he exclaimed loudly, “No, no! It’s Count Orléans—” He also felt annoyed. “Turn around quickly! The carriage might have taken the wrong way too!” Even though they already knew who the correct target was, they were unable to reach them!
“Count Orléans? That’s probably not possible.” Arsen lifted the curtain and glanced at the scenery outside. “We’re already at the entrance.”
“No matter.” Eivass waved his hand. “I’m quite curious… every time we try to find Count Orléans, we are diverted to Count Harlick. Both our memories and words are twisted. So, if… Count Harlick were to cease to exist, where would we be led? I’m looking forward to it.”
“…What are you going to do?” Arsen’s face showed a look of terror.
“I am indeed going to do something.” Eivass said, taking a mirror from his embrace. “I didn’t look for Lily because involving her in this matter… might not be a good idea.”
From the carriage, which was gradually coming to a halt, a man wearing a white robe, with long white hair, blood-red eyes… and a gloomy and dangerous aura slowly stepped out.
The servants, seeing the Duke’s carriage stop at the entrance, gathered without delay. Even though it was already late at night, the castle was still brightly lit. Compared to other Child of the Moon Counts, Count Harlick was considered relatively low-key. The size of his manor was incomparable to the Duke’s Mansion. Even compared to the Silver and Tin Hall, this castle was a few sizes smaller… but even so, the number of servants was not small.
Eivass, in his Child of the Moon form, clearly and distinctly smelled the scent of “Chains of Enchantment.” These were Blood Slaves transformed through the Enchanting Kiss. The male and female servants, who appeared to be between their teens and thirties, all had the marks of the Enchanting Kiss on their necks without exception. They did not appear as respectful and polite as the servants of Star Antinomy; instead, they were filled with fear the moment they saw the guests’ eye color.
“I’m looking for Harlick.” Eivass, in his Child of the Moon form, emitted a hoarse, low voice.
“Uh…” The surrounding servants hesitated. Eivass then reached out, grabbed one of them by the neck, and pulled her close, baring his formidable fangs. However, the other servants showed no surprise at this sight. The maid who was grabbed even closed her eyes and raised her chin, making it easier and more convenient for him to feed. This was not an act of flattery, but a means of self-preservation. To avoid being casually decapitated by the Child of the Moon who had grown tired of feeding, it was better to get it over with in one go.
“What?” he said calmly. “He doesn’t want to see me?”
“…No, guest.” Another servant, who appeared to be the oldest, stepped forward. “Which Mr. Harlick are you looking for?” He seemed to be in his early thirties, wearing a monocle and shoulder-length black hair. Wearing white gloves, he looked like a standard butler, as if about to sing.
“That’s not a question you should ask.” Eivass said coldly. “Go and announce that Ibn wants to see him.
“What, aren’t you going to invite me in?” As he spoke, the carriage door opened again. Alistair leaped out lightly. Such a beautiful maiden made people freeze in their tracks. She placed her right hand on her chest and greeted everyone very politely. Then, she took two quick steps and followed beside Eivass. Her demonic charm was so captivating that no one dared to look directly at her or to obstruct her. As she walked, she trailed an increasingly sweet and intoxicating aroma of blood. From the area of her shoulder blades, crystalline blood like rubies began to condense; they resembled two flower buds, or perhaps embryos. The two esteemed guests ascended the steps. Ahead, the castle gate was slowly opened by the servants. They naturally knew the taboo of the Child of the Moon—entry was forbidden without permission, so they all opened the grand doors, allowing this distinguished guest of unknown identity to enter. And the moment they stepped through the gate, in the flickering light and dark, Eivass’s originally stern face broke into a sinister smile. Alistair’s smile also became more beautiful.
“Alistair.” He called out softly.
“I’m here…” Alistair’s voice responded.
“Go on a massacre.” Eivass commanded.
(End of Chapter)
