Chapter 55: First Movement

Chapter 55: First Movement

Only after the Wraith opposite him vanished did Emlyn White withdraw his gaze. He untied the thin string around the file pouch in his hand and drew out the documents within.

After reading them one by one, Emlyn more or less grasped Ernest Boyar’s movement patterns.

This Sanguine viscount normally had no fixed schedule. Sometimes he stayed at home; sometimes he visited exhibitions; sometimes he went to a manor outside the city to taste wine; sometimes he accompanied female companions to the major department stores; sometimes he invited certain ladies to model for his paintings. In every way, he seemed like a normal wealthy man.

However, recently, Ernest had been going to Saint George Borough once every other day to supervise renovations at a furniture factory in which he had invested, attempting to restore it to operation as soon as possible.

In this way, a repeated pattern had appeared in this Sanguine viscount’s life. Every other day, his activity location repeated, his route repeated, and even the place where he ate lunch repeated.

Emlyn raised a hand and pressed both sides of his forehead. He carefully extracted from the documents three major scenes suitable for action.

The first was inside or at the entrance of the furniture factory Ernest Boyar had opened. The second was Saint Hielan Square, where he would stop to eat lunch and feed pigeons on his way back home. The third was Backlund Bridge—unless the other party was willing to take a very long detour, traveling between his home and Saint George Borough would inevitably require passing through it.

All three locations met the requirement of being crowded and chaotic. However, Backlund Bridge had too few entrances and exits. Once both ends were blocked, the only way to leave would be to jump into the river. That was the choice of an idiot… Saint Hielan Square belongs to Saint Hielan Cathedral, the Church of Steam’s center in Backlund—and even in all of Loen. It is their second Holy See. It fits Mr. Hanged Man’s suggestion and can effectively control the possible intensity of any conflict, while interfering with later divination and investigation… Emlyn gradually formed a preference.

And once a preference existed, living beings would subconsciously search for even more reasons to support it. Emlyn was unquestionably the same. The more he thought about it, the more he felt that Saint Hielan Square could satisfy practically every requirement.

First, Ernest would remain there for quite some time, eating lunch in a Sivella-style restaurant—this Sanguine viscount had been born in Sivella County.

Second, the square gathered the stops of multiple public tramcar routes. People came and went, most of them belonging to the middle and lower classes, and accidents often happened there.

Third, if one left from there without crossing Backlund Bridge, one would enter the Backlund Bridge area, and the distance from Harvest Church would no longer be especially great.

Finally, at precisely noon, Saint Hielan Cathedral would release steam, turn its levers, and ring its great bell. No one’s attention would fail to be drawn.

This is the place… Emlyn quickly made a decision. Raising his right hand, he adjusted his bow tie. His red eyes were full of anticipation.

At that moment, however, he suddenly frowned, sensing that something was wrong.

Saint Hielan Square was far too suitable for action.

So suitable that it almost fulfilled every condition.

Would Ernest truly not guard against my revenge? How could he allow himself to remain for long in this kind of environment? Even if he were too stupid to think of it, would the counts not remind him? The corners of Emlyn’s mouth slowly curled upward as he came to understand the reason.

Saint Hielan Square was the action location the Sanguine higher-ups had “marked out” for him!

Heh… Emlyn laughed once, the curve at his lips not dropping.

He decided to request a private gathering for a few members from Mr. Fool that very day, and to invite Mr. Hanged Man as well, so they could discuss the detailed action plan.

This differed from the framework they had previously settled on. They needed to make it concrete down to every detail and consider every possible problem.

…

11:45 a.m., Saint Hielan Square, Saint George Borough.

Inside a private room on the third floor of a restaurant at the northwest corner of the square.

A figure stood before the window, holding a cup of liquid as scarlet as blood, leisurely gazing out at the fountain not far away and at the crowds coming and going.

He was tall and thin, wearing evening formalwear as though attending a banquet. His pale, almost silver hair and bright-red eyes combined into a handsome appearance with a faint demonic charm. A barely visible smile remained at the corners of his mouth.

“Your Excellency Count, are you truly certain nothing will go wrong? Emlyn is no longer the same as before. This can be seen from the matter of hunting the Primordial Moon believers.” A middle-aged man in dark formalwear walked to the window with obvious concern and asked.

The man addressed as count cast his gaze toward Emlyn White, who stood at the edge of the square listening to a street violinist. He chuckled and said,

“Our preparations would be enough to deal with even a demigod, let alone this little fellow who has not yet become a viscount.

“Besides, we do not truly intend to do anything. Our only purpose is to confirm and identify. That is far easier than preventing certain people from escaping.”

As he spoke, this pale-haired, red-eyed man slightly raised his right hand and turned the ring worn on the ring finger of his left hand.

The ring’s band was silver, set with a strange dark-blue gemstone.

…

Inside a carriage heading toward Saint Hielan Square, Ernest Boyar placed his right hand atop his left and naturally turned the ring set with a dark-blue gemstone on his ring finger.

His gaze casually turned toward the window. He saw a trackless public carriage slowly approaching from the distance, a newsboy a little over 160 centimeters tall walking along the street with a slanted satchel while hawking papers, and no small number of bicycles replacing the carriages still common last year as they threaded through the crowds coming and going in Saint George Borough.

Here, there were far more people wearing pale-blue or gray-blue workers’ uniforms and flat caps than there were gentlemen in formalwear and top hats.

Ernest withdrew his gaze and inwardly gave a heh. He felt not the slightest fear toward what might soon happen. He even felt somewhat expectant.

He believed his preparations were already sufficiently complete.

The “Oath of the Rose” worn on his left hand could allow Count Mistral, who was far away, to share his sight, hearing, and sense of smell, ensuring that no matter what happened, the final objective would be achieved.

In the inner pocket where he kept his silver pocket watch was the “Moon Paper Figurine.” It could take his place in withstanding one fatal injury, or one direct attack against his spirit body, striving to ensure that he would not be seriously injured or die within a short period of time.

The diamond tie pin he wore, named “Alcohol’s Nemesis,” could help him maintain abundant energy and clear thoughts, improving his resistance against spells in the domain of the mind body.

The belt at his waist was called “Moonlight Ribbon.” It could effectively reduce damage from “sun” and “lightning.”

These mystical items either came from Ernest’s own savings or from Count Mistral’s bestowal. They transformed Ernest into a “target” who would be difficult to quickly resolve and control.

Added to the natural resistance a Sanguine viscount possessed against Nightmare-type influences, Ernest now had almost no weaknesses. Even against a demigod, as long as the other party did not reveal a mythical creature form, he would be able to hold on for a while.

The only problem was that the negative effects of these mystical items were not especially easy to endure… The muscles on Ernest’s face twitched faintly, then quickly returned to calm.

The “Oath of the Rose” ring would from time to time make his thoughts appear inside Count Mistral’s mind. And if both parties wore the paired rings continuously for a week without ever taking them off, there was a significant possibility that they would fall in love, regardless of gender or race.

The “Moon Paper Figurine” was a single-use item with almost no negative effects. It only made the body feel faintly cold.

The problem with the “Alcohol’s Nemesis” tie pin was that it continuously damaged the liver and brain. If worn for too long, it might cause a certain loss of thinking and logical ability. Therefore, for every half hour it was worn, it had to be removed for fifteen minutes.

Once the “Moonlight Ribbon” was fastened, all kinds of senses would become sharper. It was easy to see things one should not see and hear sounds one should not hear. At the same time, the wearer would intermittently itch all over.

I hope they do not become timid and do not drag this out… Ernest Boyar once again examined his own condition and turned his faintly expectant gaze toward the nearby entrance of Saint Hielan Square.

…

On the other side of Saint Hielan Square, Emlyn White, who stood near the edge enjoying the performance of a street musician, suddenly raised his head and looked toward a small bird flying over from nearby.

Then he raised a hand, pressed down on the top hat on his head, lowered his head slightly, and walked quickly toward the center of the square, approaching the fountain.

During this process, Emlyn’s figure flashed repeatedly and completely blended into the coming and going crowd.

However, this could not shake Count Mistral’s lock.

This pale-silver-haired Sanguine count once again turned the dark-blue gemstone ring on the ring finger of his left hand and spoke calmly.

“Pay attention.”

…

At the entrance of Saint Hielan Square, Ernest Boyar grew increasingly energized. He knew that the matter was about to arrive—had finally arrived.

As expected, Emlyn chose Saint Hielan Square… Ernest once again turned his gaze outside the window and warily watched the pedestrians on the road, the trackless public carriages about to pass one another, the ordinary newsboy hawking newspapers, and the elegant windows of the surrounding houses and shops.

He did not believe that Emlyn’s possible companions were hidden among them, because there were more and better places inside Saint Hielan Square suitable for taking action. Yet he still felt that proper vigilance was necessary.

Suddenly, his body moved, pitching slightly forward and nearly leaving his seat.

The carriage he rode had stopped without the slightest warning!

Immediately afterward, the horse pulling the carriage seemed to have had a nightmare. It reared up on its front hooves and struggled frantically, toppling the carriage onto the ground.

In the course of this, Ernest Boyar actually had enough space, time, and ability to help the driver control the maddened horse. However, he did not do so, because he saw a transparent, blurry wolf-like ghost pounce in through the window and throw at him a rose held inside its body.

A rose!

Ernest Boyar’s eyes had only just widened when the carriage overturned.

He hurriedly leaped out from the other side of the carriage, and from the void, an illusory, unreal black shackle reached out and wrapped around the wolf-shaped ghost.

With a puff, the wolf-shaped ghost directly collapsed, making no attempt to struggle.

After Ernest Boyar steadied himself, however, he stood there in a daze, completely motionless, his eyes unfocused.

He had already entered deep sleep.

Inside the trackless public carriage passing beside him, a young man with black hair and green eyes wore a thin windbreaker. He sat with his back toward the center of the road, focused on reading a hard-covered notebook whose cover was bronze-green.

Around him, the other passengers were either reading newspapers, talking among themselves, or looking outside. They saw the out-of-control horse quickly return to normal.

Rustle. The black-haired, green-eyed man turned another page of the notebook in his hand.

The trackless public carriage continued forward, gradually drawing away.