**Chapter 804**
**Count Leipzig Frozen**
Count Leipzig, albeit reluctantly, finally arrived at the Spirit Tower.
No one came to greet him. The moment he arrived, the tightly shut doors of the Spirit Tower creaked open on their own and slowly swung inward.
The interior of the Spirit Tower was dimly lit, and the old wooden floor emitted creaking sounds with every step.
“…Ahem… cough…”
As soon as Count Leipzig stepped into the Spirit Tower, he couldn’t help but cough.
He frowned deeply, covering his nose with his hand.
An old atmosphere permeated the entire place.
It was like the smell one would encounter upon entering a dilapidated old house with peeling wallpaper and cobwebs, through a creaking door. It was similar to an ancient library that hadn’t been entered for many years… Just walking near the bookshelves, you could smell a scent “from time itself.”
If you were to pull out a dusty book and open it at that moment, the suddenly intensified scent within would make you cough uncontrollably.
“This wretched place…”
Count Leipzig cursed under his breath.
Just by entering, he felt a chill creeping up his head. The overthinking in his mind was replaced by a faint tension and solemnity, and all distracting thoughts were swept away.
It was as if one were accustomed to the background noise of daily life and suddenly entered a completely soundproof environment. The silence was almost uncomfortably profound.
As Count Leipzig passed the first torch in the hallway, they suddenly flared up with a whoosh. The original orange-yellow flames instantly turned a dark blue, and a ferocious skull appeared within them.
“Hee hee hee hee hee hee…”
A sharp, echoing laughter erupted from all directions around Count Leipzig. In an instant, all the torches in the hallway spewed forth flames, turning into streaks of dark blue ghost fire.
The bone-chilling cold seeped out, turning Count Leipzig’s complexion as pale as a corpse—a thin layer of frost appeared on his skin, and even his neatly slicked-back golden hair showed traces of frost.
At this moment, Count Leipzig suddenly heard a dripping sound.
He turned his head and found a faucet rotating on its own. A liquid like blood slowly flowed out, pooling on the ground and gradually forming a series of messy handwritten characters:
—Get out!
—I’ll kill you!
—Turn back!
—Don’t leave!
—You are not welcome!
…
“—Hmph.”
Count Leipzig snorted coldly, a faint deep red flickering in the depths of his pupils. The blood energy of the Child of the Moon surged, instantly restoring the color to his face, and the frost marks melted away.
“I want to see Black Phase.”
He said this into the darkness of the hallway: “I have come representing the will of Pomanach.”
As if to defy him, the Spirit Tower instantly went into a frenzy—the sharp laughter intensified considerably, transforming into layers upon layers of nauseating, headache-inducing screams. The torches on both sides of the hallway flickered, ignited and extinguished; the door at the end of the hallway boomed open, only to slam shut violently.
A semi-transparent spirit suddenly emerged from the wall—it was a boy who looked about eleven or twelve years old. He floated over with a fierce expression, and as he approached Count Leipzig, he suddenly transformed into a translucent skeleton, opening his mouth and exhaling an icy breath at him.
At this moment, Count Leipzig suddenly reached out and grabbed the spirit’s face.
He exerted force with his right hand, and though it was a spiritual entity, it made creaking sounds. In an instant, several spirits continuously pounced from the walls, while Count Leipzig continued to grip and exert pressure with his right hand, waving his left hand in the air to try and disperse them.
Finally, when a pair of hands emerged from the floor and gripped his calf, Count Leipzig could bear it no longer—
A deep red halo ignited again in his pupils. A ball of blood-red flame erupted from the palm of his right hand, which was gripping the ghost’s head, and began to spread throughout his body!
Just as the flames were about to ignite the spirits surrounding him… at that very moment, the flames in his hand suddenly reversed as if time were flowing backward, dyeing from the tip towards the origin and turning into cold, dark blue ghost fire.
As the ghost fire was about to spread to his skin, Count Leipzig abruptly withdrew the flame.
At this moment, Count Leipzig noticed… standing before the tightly shut door at the end of the hallway was an old man in a black robe, who had appeared at some point.
He was balding, with only a bit of pure white hair remaining on his temples and the back of his head. However, he had a similarly pure white beard that connected to his hair.
He wore small, round-rimmed glasses and had a stern, unhappy expression. He was as thin as a shadow, evoking images of withered trees covered in snow during winter.
The old man slightly pointed his bone staff at Count Leipzig—it was clear that the blood flame Count Leipzig had summoned earlier had been suppressed and colored by him.
Count Leipzig, of course, recognized him. This was the de facto manager of the Spirit Tower, a figure of equal or higher standing than himself.
Because of this, Count Leipzig nodded slightly and placed his right hand over his chest in a gesture of respect.
“Your Excellency Adolf von Menzel.”
Count Leipzig elegantly raised his head, a friendly smile on his face: “I have come bearing the goodwill and greetings of my Master, my Respected Father, and my blood of blood, Mr. Franz Pomanach.”
“Speak quickly,” Adolf said coldly.
Count Leipzig said, friendly and enthusiastically: “May I ask where Miss Alistair Crowley is? She might also be using the alias Madam Beyad… In fact, she is a long-time friend of the Red Phase Excellency. My Master wishes me to invite her back for a discussion…”
“I have not heard of any Miss Alistair,” Adolf’s tone remained cold. “Please leave.”
Count Leipzig merely smiled: “You jest… My people have already seen Miss Alistair enter the Spirit Tower. I bear no ill will towards her; rather, I come with the utmost respect. Whether she agrees to my Master’s invitation or not, she must at least grant me an audience… With her personal reply, I can report back properly, can I not?”
“Oh,” Dean Adolf nodded, “there is such a person.”
“Then…”
“But she has already left.”
Adolf said sincerely, “She is not in the Spirit Tower now. Please leave.”
Count Leipzig began to lose his composure—Adolf’s reaction told him that the information he had received was correct; Miss Alistair was indeed in the Spirit Tower, and the Spirit Tower did not want him to see her.
Was it Miss Alistair’s own decision? Or was this a targeted action by the Spirit Tower? Or perhaps… was it a personal conflict between the first Black Phase and the first Red Phase?
Count Leipzig frowned deeply, pondering for a moment.
He decided to be a little more assertive.
“—Vice-Principal, this matter is extremely important, and I am not joking. Mr. Pomanach, for her sake, has traveled from Lionheart City to Leipzig at this critical juncture and has been searching for her here for three whole days. I have known that gentleman for nearly a century, and I have never seen him so serious.”
Count Leipzig first emphasized the importance of the matter, then said solemnly: “Miss Alistair should be my Master’s former lover. This is a private matter, and neither you nor I have the right to interfere.”
“—Hmm?”
Adolf frowned.
He thought of Miss Alistair’s physique and his gaze towards Count Leipzig became unfriendly.
The old man said slowly, “So, you are determined to see Miss Alistair?”
“This is a mission of utmost importance bestowed upon me by my Master.” Count Leipzig emphasized, “I do not wish for things to become too strained—my Master may also be on his way. If I cannot complete my mission, then I will have no face to leave the Spirit Tower. By then, it will be awkward for all of us. Now, my Master is the guardian of the new King. This is no longer just a request from me as the Lord of Leipzig, but a request in the name of Valentine the Eighth—”
The implication was that he would not leave, essentially throwing himself on the floor.
Adolf chuckled, unafraid.
“Since that is the case,” the old man said slowly, “then don’t leave… You couldn’t leave anyway.”
He stroked his staff and began a deep, ancient chant.
Count Leipzig’s body gradually stiffened, as did the speed of his thoughts.
He looked down in panic, seeing his body gradually freezing.
He had absolutely not expected Adolf to dare to make a move against him, especially after he had already informed Pomanach of his impending arrival!
“You… This—”
His voice became halting. Because his thought processes were being stretched, his body movements also became jerky—controlling a person’s body is a continuous process. If the continuity in the middle is interrupted, it doesn’t make one’s actions jerky like a dance, but rather makes it difficult to move, causing spasms in place.
“… [Stop]… [Cast]! [Silence]…”
Count Leipzig attempted a Word Spirit, but the fragmented words could not evoke any semblance of authority.
“I am not threatening you,” Old Adolf said leisurely, “You just can’t leave… with all this snow outside.”
Lies…
Where… where is there snow outside…
Count Leipzig opened his eyes, his mouth moving silently. The surface of his body visibly cooled at an alarming rate, and the blood energy within him was suppressed by this coldness to the point where it could no longer be mobilized… Despite being a high-ranking Child of the Moon, he now looked like a helpless mortal.
Old Adolf, however, smiled for the first time.
“If you don’t believe me, take a look outside. Your neck should still be able to turn.”
He said, pointing his staff at the wall beside Count Leipzig.
The brick wall automatically parted to the sides, revealing a window.
In an instant, endless paleness surged in from the window, instantly engulfing the stiff, immobile Count Leipzig and turning him into a cold ice sculpture!
“Have you considered…”
As Count Leipzig’s thoughts began to stagnate and his body began to freeze over, he heard the old man’s cold, ethereal voice: “You have the Banquet Heavenly Envoy behind you, and we have the Winter Envoy behind us.
“Compared to the Winter Envoy’s closeness to us… perhaps you should guess how much the Banquet Heavenly Envoy is willing to pay for you?”
The next moment, with his eyes wide open, Count Leipzig was completely turned into an ice sculpture in the vast expanse of snow.
(End of this chapter)
