The second floor of House Number Seventeen was draped in complete darkness, with only the moonlight streaming through the window. The house, newly purchased by Will, was now higher than the surrounding courtyard walls. Though there was no shortage of candles, the house itself had only recently been acquired.
If a monk happened to notice the flickering candlelight and wasn't aware that the house had been purchased, they might approach for questioning, which could potentially lead to trouble.
Adam pondered the recent events, his expression growing somber.
Night travel was a gamble—one had to rely on the hope that the Church's experts were not watching, trusting that luck would allow him to reach his destination undetected. Adam had always known the risks, yet he had no other choice. After all, this was the Church's domain, and daylight travel was even more dangerous. The moment one did something out of place, a simple report could lead to the Church's scrutiny.
However, after multiple successful night travels, Adam had become overconfident. He had sensed something was off, but chose to ignore it, underestimating the risks associated with his nocturnal excursions.
"This is a lesson I must remember," Adam silently vowed, his mind firm.
"A safer way to travel needs to be arranged," he thought, frowning. Roya City enforced a curfew, and only two groups were allowed to roam the streets at night—the patrolling soldiers and the patrolling monks.
"Some nobles also have the right to travel at night." Many of the Church's monks were tied to the nobility, turning a blind eye to certain abuses of power.
"If I could secure a noble's assistance, it might make night travel safer."
Yet, Adam realized that this state of heightened patrols wouldn't last long. The Church could not sustain such a sweeping operation indefinitely.
"Nobles have many hidden interests—smuggling among them," Adam mused, tapping his mask lightly. "Nightfall is the perfect cover for mutants and for nobles profiting from them. After some time, these wide-reaching patrols will provoke the nobles to intervene and restrain the Church."
"Lord Rupert," Adam thought, a new idea taking root. Mansela was at a crucial juncture—his smuggling network could not afford interference. But Rupert had always wanted to compete with Mansela. If handled correctly, Adam was confident that, with the nobles' already frayed moral boundaries, they would be open to cooperation with mutants.
"And this could also provoke Mansela, loosening his grip on the smuggling network. Perhaps, through Gold, I could get involved in Mansela's operations."
"The key will be convincing Rupert that we mutants can help him defeat Mansela," Adam continued to calculate.
Historically, the nobility had no rank of "Sir," with the lowest rank being Baron. However, over time, some barons' accomplishments had waned, causing a drop in their status. Although their merits still had some weight, they were no longer as powerful as before. As a result, the title of "Sir" emerged.
"Any knight's greatest goal is to restore their ritual," Gold had once mentioned when discussing the nobility. That thought sparked a plan in Adam's mind.
"Lord Riggs?" a clear voice interrupted his thoughts. Adam didn't turn but continued to stare out into the night.
The person approached, and a faint scent of perfume wafted into Adam's senses, making him wrinkle his nose. For mutants, any characteristic that might reveal their identity needed to be concealed, and the thick scent of perfume was a glaring giveaway.
"Could also be a tracking method," Adam thought, certain that, without proper precautions or a closer interaction, the scent would cling to him, making it easy for someone with a sharp nose to follow his trail.
Although Adam hadn't turned to look at her, he had already cataloged the distinctive features of the mutant from his brief observation. Golden hair, striking beauty, and a tear-shaped mole by the corner of her eye. She possessed an undeniable allure, and with her perfect figure, most eyes had been drawn to her even before Adam's arrival.
"Did you leave the symbol at the door?" Adam inquired, sensing a familiar aura.
"Just a small trick," the woman giggled softly, covering her mouth. "I'm Legiana. I run a few clothing stores and have some assets. I'm here to acquire the Tears of God ritual from you, Mr. Riggs."
Among strangers, people usually addressed each other by last name, but only those who were familiar would use first names.
"You can go to Will."
"But I want more..." Legiana's voice was light yet laden with implication, leaving just enough unsaid to pique curiosity. Her words hovered in the air, teasing, full of suggestive pauses.
Considering her mutant identity, Adam even suspected she might be a rare succubus or a vampiric enchantress.
Her slender hand, glowing pale in the moonlight, reached toward him in a teasing manner, but stopped just short of touching him. Something intangible held her back.
When their proximity grew too close, an invisible force enveloped Adam, and, as he turned to face her, it erupted inside her mind.
In an instant, Adam's figure seemed to occupy her entire field of vision.
The night breeze swirled around them, Adam's monk robes billowing, the dull mask on his face seeming to come alive, while his cold, indifferent eyes pierced through her thoughts.
Under the moonlight, Adam stood as if untouched by the world—a figure of purity. Yet, paired with the increasingly unsettling mask and his emotionless gaze, everything about him felt dissonant.
A harmonious blend of holiness and seduction radiated from him, an unexplainable allure that overshadowed her presence.
Compared to this overwhelming force, Legiana's own allure seemed trivial, almost crass.
Before such an imposing figure, Legiana felt an intense surge of inferiority.
"He's smiling, he's definitely smiling!" Despite the mask, Legiana swore she could sense the faintest curve of Adam's lips, a subtle smile that intensified the frantic beating of her heart.
Her heart seemed to stop, pierced by an invisible arrow.
It wasn't until Adam turned his attention back to the night sky that Legiana seemed to come back to life, her heart racing wildly, and a flush of red quickly spread across her once-pale face.
"Th-then... I'll withdraw now, Mr. Riggs," she stammered, hastily retreating downstairs.
Adam shook his head, marveling at the audacity of someone attempting to charm him, especially with such an inferior allure.
He took a moment to collect his thoughts before noticing a wildflower blooming in the yard under the cover of night. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to simply enjoy the sight of the flower blossoming.
As it fully unfurled, Adam smiled, a simple joy rising in his chest.
He stored that fleeting joy in his heart, calming his emotions as he turned toward the entrance of the second floor.
The elderly human who had ushered Adam in earlier stood respectfully, waiting.
When Adam turned, the old man bowed low and quietly said, "Will has completed the ritual. Due to health reasons, he asked me to extend his regards, Lord Riggs. Is there anything else you would like to command?"
"Prepare a list of attendees for tonight's gathering and deliver it to me at the next meeting," Adam instructed. "Once things settle, I'll leave a notice for the next gathering."
"Understood, Lord Riggs," the old man replied earnestly. "If you need anything, feel free to call upon me."
"Go now," Adam nodded slightly, dismissing him without further words.
As the old servant departed, Adam pondered how he might leave here and return to the Bookhouse.
At dawn, the curfew would lift, and many of the townspeople would be out for work. By shedding his disguise, he could easily blend into the crowd and return home.
But such an approach could easily create an opening. After all, someone suddenly returning home at such an early hour would surely raise suspicion.
Adam's gaze fell on a wooden barrel in the backyard of a nearby house.
When the sun rose, he slipped out of the second-floor window.
"Adam, out this early to fetch water?" a neighbor called.
"Yes, didn't sleep too well, seemed like it was noisy last night," Adam replied, carrying a bucket of water as he walked toward the Bookhouse, exchanging pleasantries with the locals.
"I heard the Church's monks have been rounding people up, caught quite a few..." the gossip flew, and with that, Adam made his way back to the Bookhouse without incident.