The council eting continued.
Adelaide remained standing in the exact center of the circular pattern. At so unknown point, a quill had appeared in her hand, and she was recording every decision on a yellowed parchnt ledger.
The ink was specially made, concocted from the blood of so deep-sea creature mixed with ground bone powder; it was said that words written with it would never fade.
Her movents were chanical and precise, silent and wordless, like a doll without a soul.
As tasks were assigned one by one.
The tip of the quill skimd across the parchnt, making a soft rustling sound.
Gregor was responsible for assassinating Eleanor von Schwartz.
The cloying woman was responsible for continuing the infiltration of the Imperial Security Bureau and mobilizing their resources to track Dr. Lovelace's whereabouts.
The young man was responsible for contacting the hidden moles within the Royal Research Institute to dig out any of Dr. Lovelace's remaining forr subordinates.
Andrea was responsible for investigating and defeating the unknown entity associated with Liselotte.
The others also had their respective assignnts.
Soone was responsible for monitoring the movents of the Peace Party nobles.
Soone was responsible for spreading rumors within the parliant.
Soone was responsible for preparing backup plans.
Every link was ticulously arranged, like a spiderweb being drawn tight.
When the mission to assassinate Eleanor fell to Gregor, the fellow's eyes lit up.
That light reminded Adelaide of a hungry beast seeing its prey.
"Leave it to ."
Gregor's voice was raspy and excited.
"It's been a long ti since I've hunted a target of this caliber."
"A true warrior."
"A knight who once fought bloody battles on the front lines."
"Just thinking about it is exciting."
"I promise, she will die... spectacularly."
Adelaide showed no reaction.
She simply recorded the details line by line, her handwriting neat and beautiful, every letter looking as if it were printed—just like her.
When all tasks had been assigned, Peter stood up.
"The council eting is adjourned."
His voice echoed in the room.
"Everyone, begin the operation."
Adelaide set down the quill and closed the parchnt ledger.
Next, she began to extinguish the candles.
The first one.
She gently pinched the wick with her fingertips; the fla struggled for a mont and then went out.
The figure in the black robe on the far left suddenly stiffened, then beca completely still, as if their soul had been snatched away in an instant.
The second one.
Another black-robed figure fell into silence.
The third.
The fourth.
The room grew darker and darker.
Those twisted shadows began to writhe more violently.
They were like hungry beasts, eager to devour the last bit of light.
The fifth.
Gregor's body gave one last twitch, that excited smile still hanging on his lips, before he beca completely still.
The sixth.
The woman's laughter stopped abruptly.
The seventh.
The young man's body leaned back as if he had fallen asleep.
The eighth.
The ninth.
The tenth.
The eleventh.
The twelfth.
Adelaide walked to the final candle.
That was Peter's candle.
The candle's fla flickered, casting swaying shadows upon his bottomless, dark visage.
She stopped in her tracks.
Peter was still standing there.
He had not sat back in his chair to wait for slumber like the others.
He was watching her.
Adelaide could feel that gaze.
Even though she could not ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) see his eyes.
Silence lasted for several seconds.
Then, Peter nodded to her.
"You've worked hard."
He said.
Was there a trace of... gentleness in his voice?
No.
It wasn't gentleness.
It was satisfaction.
Like a master praising his well-trained hound.
Adelaide bowed.
Her movents were still stiff and chanical.
The hem of her red dress spread out on the floor like a pool of congealed blood.
"You overstate it, Teacher."
She said.
Her voice still lacked any inflection.
But this ti, there was a hint of sothing different in that voice.
A trace... of sothing only she herself could perceive.
"This is what a student should do."
Peter was silent for a mont.
That mass of darkness fluctuated slightly.
"Rember what I told you before."
He said.
"Do not let anyone outside the Secret Party discover your current identity."
"When the ti is right, you will receive my instructions."
"Until then, continue doing what you should be doing."
"Yes, Teacher."
Peter nodded.
Then, his figure began to blur.
As if he were being swallowed from the inside by that mass of darkness.
The edges began to dissipate.
The silhouette began to twist.
Finally, the darkness vanished.
Leaving behind only a faint scent, like a mix of sulfur and rotting at, and a black-robed figure just like the others, slumped in the chair, motionless.
Adelaide looked at the spot where he had departed.
Her expression remained unchanged.
Then, she blew out the final candle.
Darkness.
Total darkness.
As if a giant hand had covered her eyes.
As if sinking to the very bottom of the deep sea.
As if returning to the void before the birth of the world.
Quiet.
A deathly quiet.
Only those lines on the floor were still writhing slightly.
Emitting a faint sound, like snakes crawling.
Rustle.
Rustle.
Rustle.
Adelaide stood in the darkness.
Motionless.
She was waiting.
Waiting for sothing that was very important to her.
A long ti passed—perhaps seconds, perhaps minutes, perhaps hours.
In this place without light, ti lost its aning.
Then, she moved.
Her hand reached into the pocket of her dress.
She pulled out a match.
Scritch.
The match struck the phosphorus strip, making a slight friction sound.
A fla began to dance on the match head.
The weak light illuminated her face.
That expressionless face.
Those hollow eyes.
Holding the match, she looked around.
Thirteen chairs.
Thirteen black-robed figures sat there, motionless.
Like thirteen ticulously arranged corpses.
Their postures were all different.
So leaned forward, so leaned back, so slumped to the side.
But they all had one thing in common.
They were motionless.
Not even breathing.
Hmm.
No.
It wasn't thirteen.
Adelaide's gaze swept over the chairs and then stopped.
The third chair.
It was one of the three chairs that hadn't moved from beginning to end.
The black-robed figure on that chair was moving.
Very slightly.
Almost imperceptibly.
But for Adelaide.
This was what she had been waiting for.
She had finally begun to move.
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