Baron
"There shouldn't have been any information leaked beforehand."
For if that had been the case, the Rose School's demigod would have had ample time to leverage the "Tree of Degeneration" and the "Mutated Power" Sihir's response to lay far more dangerous and terrifying traps—not the kind an Angel could deal with so easily.
This was also why Mistral had said the trap was closer to a hasty arrangement and appeared somewhat rushed.
This fully proved there was no mole. After all, only those participating tonight had been aware of the plan beforehand. If someone had wanted to leak the information, they could have done so long ago—unless someone had changed their mind at the last minute, or wanted to exploit the urgency for greater benefits. Either way, those would have left obvious traces.
"Perhaps there were other methods of detecting danger."
For this operation, the vampires had activated a sealed artefact capable of interfering even with a demon's danger premonition, to say nothing of spiritual intuition and similar abilities.
"Perhaps..." Mistral couldn't think of a better explanation either.
At that moment, inside the room on the second floor of the restaurant, aside from the red wine in the glass and the strange little figurine having already evaporated and vanished, everything else was perfectly intact—as if nothing had ever happened.
Originally, Sharon and Mistral could have attempted to use divination to seek answers—to reconstruct what exactly had happened before the attack struck this place. But now, they couldn't, because all surrounding areas had been bathed in the glow of that "Red Moon," which was equivalent to having undergone a baptism of things related to the "Tree of Degeneration." Any divination would easily be drawn toward this evil god, and the results were unthinkable.
Before Sharon could speak, Mistral silently drew a breath:
"Everything has unexpected factors; nothing can be a hundred percent successful. Let's call it a day. If we stay any longer, the official forces will likely detect the anomaly."
The moment his words fell, the black chains that had suspended the roof in midair instantly grew dim and illusory.
The roof descended once more, covering the second floor of the restaurant, looking no different from before.
Of course, when the wind was strong and the rain heavy, water seepage would certainly occur here. If a storm hit, the entire roof would be torn off once again.
The enormous bat wings that had enveloped the surrounding area retracted back into the darkness, and the pitter-patter of light rain re-shrouded the place.
Hidden in the shadows, Klein watched Miss Sharon's figure—clad in a black court gown—rapidly fade into transparency and vanish. He watched a puff of illusory smoke rise as countless tiny bats scattered in every direction, and couldn't help but furrow his brow, murmuring silently:
"What exactly went wrong..."
Unexpected complications weren't frightening. What was frightening was not even knowing what the complication was.
No matter what stage one was at, the unknown was always terrifying.
At that moment, a voice with slight pauses and a somewhat intermittent quality suddenly sounded beside Klein's ears:
"What exactly..." "happened..." "what..." "matter..."
Klein turned his head and discovered that Miss Messenger had, at some unknown point, stepped out of the Spirit World and was now standing beside him.
The four golden-haired, red-eyed heads held in Her hand were all gazing toward that dining room.
"...Could you see what was happening before?" Klein asked, weighing his words carefully.
Once the "Mimic" Pathway reached the "Vengeful Spirit" stage, one could freely enter and exit the Spirit World, receiving revelations directly from within. Whether it was spiritual intuition or divination and prophecy, all became remarkably powerful. The corresponding Sequence 2 Angel would certainly be no exception in this regard. Hence, Klein's question.
The four heads held by Lentini Tinekor swayed in unison and spoke with one voice:
"No."
Klein nodded thoughtfully, asked no further questions, and manipulated his marionette away from the area.
…………
"It's already over...?" Emilin White, who had been dry-heaving for a while, stroked the ring set with a dark blue gemstone, muttering to himself in surprise.
Through the "Rose Oath" ring, he sensed Count Mistral's dejection, fury, and the restraint of someone unwilling to direct his anger at a lady or take his frustration out on others. His preliminary assessment was that the operation had failed due to some unforeseen mishap.
"Over?" Upon hearing his words,
He had actually been wanting to ask why Emilin White had suddenly felt so nauseous that his expression had twisted to quite an extreme degree, but he had exercised admirable restraint over his curiosity and suppressed the impulse.
"N-No, we didn't find the target..." Emilin struggled to recall everything Count Mistral had seen and heard, but due to Marquis Nabais's suppression, he had only been able to use the "Rose Oath" paired rings to view the scene once that "Blood Moon" had risen — and that ability was soon rendered useless by the sensation of the anomaly.
At the same time, Emilin grumbled inwardly:
"That demigod from the Temperance faction — she incarnated in a puppet body to come here?
"Whose masterpiece is this... it's practically art!"
"Didn't find the target? How is that possible..." Maric's brows furrowed uncontrollably.
In his view, this entire operation had gone perfectly smoothly right up until just now, and neither he, Sharon, nor the vampires had any motive to leak information to the
As for Sherlock Moriarty, he had long since proven his credibility through one cooperation after another.
Suppressing his immense disappointment and confusion, Maric spoke with his expression unchanged: