Capim House, Iris Street, Cherwood Borough
In the spacious and elegant dining room, the maids ticulously arranged gold-inlaid ceramic tableware on the long table. They placed caviar, roast chicken, stewed lamb, fried ox eye, fried dragon bone fish, cream soup, and other delicacies in an orderly sequence, adhering to refined etiquette.
Monts later, Capim, slightly overweight, erged from his study. A false warmth spread across his face as he greeted his guests with exaggerated humility: the middle-aged Heras, cloaked in a white hood; Katie, clad in a thin shirt; and Parker, an aged man who appeared harmless and frail.
Once seated, Capim raised his glass, feigning an aristocratic air, and toasted:
"Storm is above, let's toast to a better future."
Katie brushed her fingers against the old scars lining her face, giving only a faint nod in response.
Heras said nothing but lightly raised the stem of his wine glass.
Only Parker, the elderly gentleman, responded:
"Cheers to a bright future."
Unbothered by the lack of enthusiasm, Capim turned his attention to the only lady present, speaking with ingratiating charm:
"Ms. Katie, tonight we have your favorite caviar and a roasted chicken specially prepared for you."
Katie humd lightly in acknowledgnt and began carving the roast chicken with surgical precision. Her knife moved thodically, dividing the bird into pieces of near-identical size.
Even though he had witnessed this display before, Capim still felt a chill run down his spine. Trying to mask his unease, he hurriedly cut a piece of fried dragon bone fish, dipped it in black pepper sauce, and stuffed it into his mouth.
The dinner proceeded without incident until the ornate wall clock struck 7:23.
At that mont, just as Capim was about to ask his guests if they would like dessert, he erupted into sudden, uncontrollable laughter. His laughter grew louder, his body shaking as he clutched his belly. Tears stread down his flushed cheeks.
The dining room fell eerily silent.
The servants nearby began collapsing one by one, unconscious. Others clutched their stomachs, vomiting yellow-green bile, unable to stop.
No one was spared.
Heras, despite his calm deanor, felt his breath grow shallow. His instincts scread a warning: the entire room was filled with poison.
He barked sharply:
"Hold your breath! Parker, open the door! Katie, follow —find the intruder!"
Bang!
The dining room door burst open as Parker forced it ajar, allowing fresh air to flow in. At the sa ti, Heras activated his spiritual vision, imdiately spotting an illusory figure silently moving amidst the chaos.
The figure was cloaked in thick black armor, a black crown resting atop its head, and a black mask obscuring its face—like a spectral king erging from the void.
It was Klein, who had phased through the wall two and a half minutes earlier.
Without hesitation, Heras raised his right hand, channeling the Judge ability to "imprison" the intruder. But before the ability could take effect, he noticed a glowing talisman clutched tightly in Klein's hand—etched with intricate symbols like the "Sword of Judgnt" and an array of ancient sigils.
It wasn't just an ordinary artifact—it was a high-level spell.
Heras's eyes widened in realization. Before he could react, Klein solemnly declared in ancient Hertic:
"It is forbidden to make rules here!"
The weight of the words echoed throughout the space.
Having witnessed the "Forbidden" combat technique during the naval battle seen in Miss Judgnt and Mr. Tower's Late Night Broadcast, Klein had prepared ticulously. He confird with Miss Judgnt that most of Capim's Beyonders followed the Arbiter Path, known for rule enforcent and restriction abilities.
To counteract this, Klein had secured the "Ninth Law" Charm from Mr. Tower—a spell specifically designed to prohibit prohibitions.
As Klein's words hung in the air, a series of dark golden runes and magic symbols spread throughout the space, weaving into the fabric of reality.
Heras imdiately felt the weight of invisible chains binding him. His "imprisonnt", "exile", and all other rule-based abilities beca utterly useless. Even his voice was choked back, preventing him from issuing commands.
Seeing his most formidable foe effectively neutralized, Klein wasted no ti. He swiftly turned and used "Scream" to repel Katie's attempted sneak attack from behind.
Without pausing, he fired several air bullets infused with holy aura directly at Heras, capitalizing on his opponent's vulnerability.
The latter dodged while pulling an iron-black tal glove from his hidden bag.
While Katie recovered and once again entangled the invading "ghost" with her pistol and whip, Heras successfully donned the glove.
In an instant, Heras felt as though he had grown taller, as if he had beco a towering figure capable of determining the fate of others.
Having used this item many tis before, he did not let himself be consud by this illusory feeling. Instead, he channeled its power to forcibly break the "laws" established by his opponent's talisman and successfully punished them.
However, just as he delivered a glowing fist aid at the intruder's head, the scene around him shattered into fragnts.
A dream? The other party also has the ability of a "Nightmare"?!
Heras was shocked but forced himself to calm down. As he surveyed his surroundings, he found Katie and Parker lying motionless on the floor, their life or death uncertain. Worse yet, the iron-black glove was now worn on the spectral hand of the black-crowned intruder.
What frightened him even more was his current location—next to a gas pipe. The sharp sll of gas saturated the air, triggering every warning bell in his mind.
The poison gas was used to mask the sll of gas?!
Just as Heras pieced together the realization, he saw the figure wearing the black crown bow slightly to him, as if bidding farewell.
Then, a bright fla ignited!
Boom!
A deafening explosion consud Heras's vision. Flas burst forth like a grand fireworks display, searing everything in their path.
He barely had ti to shield his vital organs before the fiery wave engulfed him.
Without the iron-black glove's protection, Heras's physical resilience was far inferior. The massive impact shattered his body, breaking his internal organs and leaving him severely injured.
Yet, against all odds, he did not die. With sheer determination, Heras stood up with trembling limbs as the flas subsided.
As for the others—ordinary people like Capin had been burned to charcoal, Parker had succumbed to the poison before the explosion, and Katie, though alive, was barely holding on.
"It's so hard to kill them... Fortunately, I ca well-prepared," Klein sighed.
As a spirit, Klein had been mostly unscathed by the explosion. He used the Nightmare Badge he had acquired from the Eye of Wisdom gathering once again, pulling all the remaining survivors in the villa into a dream world, severing their last chance of escape.
Under normal circumstances, the Beyonders might have forced themselves awake from the dream. But due to their critical injuries, they had lost that ability entirely.
With a snap of his fingers, Klein unleashed a series of air bullets, ending the evil lives of the remaining human traffickers. Then, without delay, he turned and flew toward the underground entrance.
Belis, who had been guarding the underground prison, had just woken up from the dream when he saw the black-crowned ghost descending upon him. Panicking, he raised his high-pressure steam rifle to fire.
But the iron-black glove on Klein's spectral hand glowed ominously, and in a blur of motion, it struck Belis's head with unerring precision.
With the explosion destabilizing the building, the range of Klein's "Ninth Law" prohibition had weakened, allowing him to utilize the iron-black glove's full capabilities.
Klein glanced at Belis's headless corpse, grimacing slightly at the ssy remains. Fortunately, being in a spirit state spared him from the visceral reality.
With the guard defeated and the key item—the Iron-Black tal Glove—in his possession, Klein smoothly unlocked the prison doors one by one, freeing Daisy and the other captive girls.
So bravely ran towards the streets like Daisy, who had only recently been kidnapped and had not undergone any conditioning or training.
It was only after escaping the oppressive villa that the girls, trembling with relief and fear, turned back to look.
On the roof of the now-ruined mansion stood a figure cloaked in black armor, wearing iron-black gloves and a black crown.
With a dramatic swish, the figure's black cape fluttered in the wind before disappearing from view.
"Daisy!"
A familiar voice broke through the chaos. Daisy's eyes lit up as she saw her sister, Freya, running towards her with tears streaming down her face. Behind Freya were two elegant won, one tall and the other short.
"Freya!"
Daisy sprinted forward and embraced her sister tightly, both of them sobbing in relief.
Watching the heartfelt reunion, Xio and Hazel exchanged warm smiles.
"This is Mr. Fool's Favored One," Xio thought, her spirituality stirring as if touched by sothing profound.
At that mont, a gust of wind blew through, and a figure streaked across the sky at high speed. Almost simultaneously, an illusory door materialized in mid-air, and from it stepped a handso man in a tailored suit.
Xio recognized them both instantly—one was the Saint of the Augustus Family, whom she had recently t at MI9 while reporting to Her Highness Vera, and the other was the Archbishop of the Backlund Diocese of the Church of the Storm, "Spellsinger of God" Ace Snake.
...
In Bayam, the night market on Beldan Street was alive with energy. Bars, shops, restaurants, and amusent parks stayed open all night, drawing colonists, locals, adventurers, and even pirates.
Ebner and Helene stepped out of their carriage and into the lively streets, only to be approached by a shifty-looking man.
The man discreetly pulled out a small bottle and whispered, "Want so, sir? Only ten pounds."
(End of Chapter)
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