Each bedroom was then meticulously investigated in the expanse of the residence, yet they found no oddities in any of them except for the one last occupied by Scott Brown.
To be specific, even the room “tainted” with a viscous coating of grey-black mud betrayed no indications of anything supernatural. Whatever was there, any elements or contamination, it had all disappeared following Scott Brown’s disappearance.
On the ground floor of the house, Garloni continued her undisturbed slumber. The towering figure of this orc woman, her skin a rugged texture of leathery toughness, reclined peacefully in the corner of the sofa, her pose suggestive of a serene dream of relaxation.
“Should Heidi have been present, she’d have brewed up some potions to ease the girl’s transition from sleep to wakefulness,” Morris observed Garloni’s peaceful sleep from the sofa with a mix of emotions evident on his face. “I can see she shared a deep bond with Brown.”
“Dark times are fleeting,” Duncan remarked, briefly pausing before withdrawing a small crystal pendant from his pocket. He muttered something under his breath to it and then gently placed it in Garloni’s hand. “May you have sweet dreams. Everything will improve.”
Morris silently observed Duncan’s actions for a while before he finally asked, “Did you bring those pendants here?”
“Last time, I ordered more than required and ended up with half a box of leftovers. Distributing them for free even proved to be challenging,” Duncan clarified, his face unreadable (primarily because it was swathed in bandages). “I thought I’d hand them out during my travels... Would you like to have one?”
“No, thank you,” Morris declined promptly, waving his hand dismissively. “I’m not really inclined towards such feminine adornments.”
“Fair enough.”
...
Under the faint glow cast by a gas lamp at the intersection, the chilling breeze of the night brushed against Vanna as she cautiously scanned her surroundings in the quiet alley.
Beside her, Alice stood, trying to imitate the vigilance of the inquisitor by looking around—though it was clear she had no understanding of what Vanna was on the lookout for.
“The streets are eerily silent; not a soul is around,” the doll lady finally broke the silence, likely unaccustomed to the pressing quietude. “Miss Vanna, what are you trying to discern in our surroundings?”
Vanna answered calmly, “I’m trying to spot any supernatural individuals or suspicious shadows lurking around the building.”
“Ah?” Alice stared blankly. “Will there be any?”
“... Why do you think Mr. Duncan had us wait outside?”
After contemplating for a moment, Alice replied: “Isn’t it because he thinks I am a hindrance?”
Even Alice, as simple-minded as she was, could finally notice the odd expression on Vanna’s face.
“... You can’t see them?” The puppet girl hesitated for a moment, considering the only possible explanation, “Um, I won’t laugh at you. The captain said that everyone’s eyes are different...”
“... I can’t see them, but that’s not the primary concern right now,” Vanna refocused and concentrated intensely on the nearby streetlight, “Are the lines still there?”
She understood the importance of prioritizing.
Alice could see invisible “lines” floating on human bodies, and she had always naturally assumed this was a commonplace sight and that others could see them too. It was such a given that this ability only surfaced now through an offhand remark. This might be her unique power as Anomaly 099, or there could be a more intricate and extraordinary explanation behind it. Regardless, these matters shouldn’t be probed at this time.
Someone was hiding nearby, and they were now exposed in the puppet’s line of sight—that was what mattered the most.
“They’re still there, wavering a bit left and right,” Alice whispered as she glanced at the streetlight diagonally across from them. However, she then knitted her brows, “Ah, it seems like a few are missing?”
“Missing a few?” Vanna’s heart clenched, and in the next second, her alertness reached a new high. Years of honed battle instincts and the warning of impending danger gifted by the goddess surged through her senses, directing her gaze to a specific spot deep within the alley.
Darkness stirred within the eerie shadows untouched by the streetlight, and a skeletal figure emerged! In an instant, a grotesque monster materialized, attached to the skeletal figure with chains.
It was a person, or at least it still had the semblance of one. However, their body was distorted and swollen to a horrifying degree. Their skin appeared as if burnt by intense flames, black and curled as their bones grew irregularly, forming a series of discontinuous bone plates on the surface of their body. Sharp bone spikes protruded from their back, reminiscent of a deep-sea creature’s remains. Where their face should have been, there was only a hollow indentation with a flickering, dark red glow.
Just from that glance, Vanna identified what it was—an Annihilation Priest, someone who had reached a deep symbiosis with a shadow demon and “purified” their body to an extreme degree.
The Annihilators viewed their flesh and blood as a prison created by the gods. As such, their method of expressing loyalty to the Nether Lord was to continually use demonic powers to transform their bodies, “purifying” their forms. This process caused them to develop more and more demonic characteristics, making them less and less human. Cultists who had purified themselves to a certain degree could no longer revert to a human form, even with temporary transformation spells, and could not function within human society. Instead, they relied on lower-ranking cultists for support. In return, they gained more potent abilities and a stronger, more direct connection with the shadowy depths.
These cultists were indeed observing this place!
As this realization shot through Vanna’s mind, her body was already in motion.
Given that she had to move around the city-state, she hadn’t brought her blessed steel greatsword.
But for a faithful priestess of the Storm Goddess, a “sword” was hardly an inconvenient item.
Air compressed, water vapor condensed, and the breath of the sea and wind instantly formed an icy blade in her hand—barely sufficient.
“Heretic!”