Cynthia leaves the room with servants carrying Saskia. Despite Erebus telling Sil to roughen her up, the fallen god would not want to let Saskia die. She is too useful for his plans. As his servants, they could only comply since they are under a contract with him.

Sil also goes back to his room to clean himself up. The blood is getting dry, and it is sticking to his skin. He enters into the bathtub and the water immediately turns red. He submerges into the water and lets himself stay surrounded by it till he reaches his limit. Then, he sits back up and stares down at his reflection of red. The water drips off his hair creating ripples on the surface of the water. Drops rolled down his body, through the definitions of his muscles. His reflected eyes look wild and dangerous.

Once he freshens up, he opens the window to a night sky without stars, only a moon hanging in the emptiness. He gazes down at the town that is engulfed in a dome. He is currently inside a floating mansion that runs on magic. He looks at the direction where the inn is supposed to be while holding in his hand a flask with a green potion. His eyes are filled with anticipation.

The next morning, Nate is missing. Left in haste, his room is empty and disorganized. Kyrie looks at the opened window where the curtains are floating and rustling in the air. His eyes wander and land on the desk where a square-shaped burn is left. Curiously, he touches the burned mark. It is cold. He looks at his fingers that pick up the powder of charcoaled wood and swirls his thumb over his index and middle fingers to feel the texture.

The wind blasts into the room again, flinging up the curtains, crying like a ghost. The wooden shudders slam continuously into the window frame. Kyrie stops the shudders from swinging violently in the air and looks at the outside. The sky hangs heavy clouds of gray while the wind continuously wrestles with Kyrie's hands to control the shudders.

"Nate is gone?" asks Laurel while entering the room.

Imogen, who was silently leaning against the room's wall, nods when Laurel turns her eyes towards Imogen.

Since Nate has gone out from the window, he must have wanted to leave without them knowing. Kyrie sighs more in relief than anxiety. Kyrie is unsure how he will fare while seeing Nate's face while knowing that he gave the potion of truth to Ian. Knowing himself, Kyrie is sure that his knuckles will go across Nate's face before words could. Plus, Ian has been acting weird ever since he woke up. That garbage is smart enough to leave!

Imogen leaves the room but encounters Ian walking in the hallway to Nate's room.

"Do you have anything to do with Nate?"

"Nate? Heh… That collector? Why? Perhaps you are thinking that I drove him away…" says Imogen, curving up a smirk on her lips.

"If not, then…" says Ian with doubt.

"He left on his own. Plus, he seems to have been working for someone," says Imogen.

"Working with someone?" Ian frowns at her words.

Ian enters the room. Laurel is looking at the square burn on the desk while Kyrie is searching around for clues. Laurel lifts up her head to see Ian coming into the room. She rolls the charcoal powder between her two fingers. The powder feels smooth like silk without a single grain.

"What is it?" asks Ian.

"This is caused by those weird communication artifacts that you can only use five times for," says Laurel.

"They burn up after the mana stored inside them depletes. This person was talking to someone… Well, it seems to not be us," concludes Laurel.

Ian unconsciously lifts up his hand to touch the potion around his neck, and his eyes reach towards Kyrie. Kyrie has been standing still listening to Laurel's words with his back turned away from them.

They wait for Nate till the sun is almost high up in the sky - there is not even a shadow of him.

The four decide that they will check out the bell tower again since the game has to resume.

As they walk on the empty streets, the town feels out of place without the usual tents used to cram up the streets. The lack of the merchant yelling to promote their merchandise and the lively sound of people working make the entire town gloomy. Those residences used to work for an earnest living are now hiding in the shadows, waiting to attack when they see a perfect opening. Everyone places their hands on top of their swords' hilt to prepare for their attack.

At this point, there are no ghouls that could have survived without sacrificing others for the limited resources that help them keep their measly lives.

The ghouls would come out one by one to attack them first, then most of them run out to attack them with their long nails. Their ghoulish features are coming out now. Their backs hump down with small sharp bones sticking out of their spine. They carry long black nails, too understated if they say it is just overgrown. Their appearance now can be a witness to their greed. They drink up so many unnecessary potions that their appearance has changed this fast.

Like her usual style, Imogen draws her sword against the enemy. No words are needed if the enemy is already decided.

Kyrie looks at his sword soaked in black from slaying the ghouls. His hands start to shake. Looking at the lifeless ghouls on the ground, he recognizes some of them - the fruit tent owner, the waitress at their inn, the chief that cooks nice meals... He thought that all of them decided to remain humans, but guess not.

Although his mind is settled that he is doing to survive, thinking back that those lives used to be the townspeople makes him feel the weight of their deaths. Ian's eyes catch Kyrie's blade shaking. The black fluid continues to drip from Kyrie's sword. His eyes look at the blade, following at Kyrie's shaking hands, to his pale face. Ian closes his distance from Kyrie. He reaches towards the hand that Kyrie is holding his sword, but Kyrie's hand is deadlocked into the hilt of the sword.

"Kyrie…" Ian calls him.

Kyrie wakes up from his daze and looks at Ian, widening his eyes like he got surprised as if he was not aware that Ian is next to him. He loosens his grip, and Ian takes off Kyrie's sword. He cleans the black slimy fluid off and puts it back into the sleeve. Kyrie takes Ian's hand, and he feels his shakiness subsiding like magic.

[Ian is my cure!! ]

On top of a building, Nate and a man who looks around his thirties are looking at the group of four. The man has an artifact in his hands that creates a protective shield around the two of them. The sphere that surrounds them helps them to be undetectable by outsiders.

"Master Lin, thank you for coming for me," says Nate.

"You dealt with people from the other side…" Lin criticizes.

"Yes, it is just a transaction. I was able to get Master the orb of chaos that you needed," says Nate.

"Collector... I would not say anything regarding what you are going to do in the future, but let me tell you one thing… You are not allowed to mess anymore with Kyrie and his friends," says Lin.

"You know Sr. Rowan, Master?" asks Nate in astonishment.

"Yes," Lin declares.

Nate turns back his head to look at his team, and his eyes set on Kyrie. However, his eyes couldn't get off their hold of the sight after a couple of long minutes on Kyrie's hand grabbing onto Ian's hand.

When Kyrie and the rest are far enough to not detect them, Lin deactivates the shield that can hide their aura from others. The particles of the sphere disperse into the air. Nate turns his back away from where his team is leaving and goes in the opposite direction. Lin turns to look in Kyrie's direction one last time and stares at the bell tower from the roof. He looks at Kyrie with apologetic eyes but leaves.

Imogen feels her heart flinch and turns around, staring far away in a certain direction. However, she is unsure if she is overly sensitive or that the Collector has done something to the dome. Seeing that no one from their team has been affected by the chain reaction from touching the dome, she rules it out as a coincidence.

They have arrived at the bell tower, but the tower looks plain. Unlike its former glory, it seems like any small town bell tower. The beautifully carved images are replaced by the dull, flat surfaces. With a slight touch, the door once again opens automatically. Inside the darkness, their eyes recognize the shape of the room they previously entered. So, they go in.

However, once the door closes and the torches lit up, they discover themselves inside a tunnel. Their one way path is uneven from the different sizes of stones that paved it. Some of the arches built collapsed to the floor in pieces, leaving fragile infrastructure up in the air without much support. Spider webs and decaying plant matter dangle from the decorative stone arches, others attached to the pillars that support those arches. The only thing working from these tunnels are the metal torches that are still miraculously hanging from the walls.

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