Unlike mainland cities such as Backlund, Tingen, and Pritz Harbour, colonial islands like Bansy lacked gas, with sparse streetlights on either side, and candles covered in glass casings waiting to be lit.
Unfortunately, the wind had risen early today, and no one was out by evening. The candle flames failed to emit their light at the scheduled time, leaving the roads pitch black, their outlines illuminated solely by the Crimson Moon that was intermittently visible through the clouds.
Compared to before, the gale had calmed down a lot. At the very least, Klein no longer had to worry about his hat.
A thin mist gradually spread. The surrounding houses, mostly two stories tall, had their doors and windows tightly shut, dark and lightless, as if they hadn't been inhabited for a long time.
Klein held a dim lantern in one hand and a firm walking stick in the other, walking quickly down the eerily silent street toward the Green Lemon Restaurant that "Flare" Danitz had pointed out.
Woo! A gust of wind swirled through the mist, and Klein inexplicably felt a chill on the back of his neck.
He raised his right hand holding the stick, making the collar of his double-breasted frock coat stand up straight, completely covering his neck.
Just then, a scene suddenly flashed in his mind!
In the scene, a black shadow the size of a watermelon shot out from the mist, instantly rushing toward his ear.
Without thinking, Klein swung his arm and forearm, fiercely drawing his cane.
Thud!
The sudden black shadow was hit squarely in the face the moment it got close, sent flying backwards a great distance.
By the light of the lantern, Klein finally saw clearly what had attacked him.
It was a head!
It was a head that had lost its body, with an esophagus dangling from it!
The head floated in midair. Its face was like a shriveled, moldy cheese. The skin, oozing a yellow-green liquid, was clearly loose and sagging, yet it perfectly outlined the contours of the bones beneath.
Where its nose should be were just two black holes. Its eyes were mostly white with little dark iris, bulging outward. Its lips were mostly rotted away, revealing teeth that were stained with blood and filed down to sharp points!
"Shit!" "Flare" Danitz's heart trembled at the sight, and he cursed under his breath.
Even for someone who had explored many treasures and fought many monsters, something this disgusting and terrifying was rare.
A classic revolver had somehow appeared in his hand. He lowered his elbow, ready to fire.
At that moment, he saw a pure, bright light descend from the sky, landing on the head that had been stunned stiff by the blow.
Aaaahh!
A shrill scream rang out. The withered, hideous head quickly evaporated and dissolved, scattering into ashes, leaving no trace behind.
"Really weak!" Danitz couldn't help but mutter.
"Is Gehrman Sparrow, this monster, on the Sun Pathway? Doesn't seem like it... He must be relying on a mystical item... I didn't even sense it, but Gehrman Sparrow had already detected the enemy and launched an attack. He really is strong..." Danitz quickly shifted his attention to other matters.
Just as his thoughts settled, the corner of his eye caught a similar head flying out from the mist on the side, trying to bite his neck.
Bang!
Danitz calmly pulled the trigger.
The copper bullet precisely hit the mold-covered head, shattering its brow. The head jerked backward and paused midair.
Immediately after, in Danitz's loosely clenched left hand, a mass of crimson rapidly expanded, flames beginning to lick around it.
He leaned forward, dragged his arm back, and "threw" the mass of fire. It slammed into the stiffened head with a roar.
Flames erupted, burning with a fierce red light. The skin of the head rapidly charred, giving off a sizzling sound.
But as if unaffected, it lunged forward, its mouth wide open, about to bite into Danitz's neck.
This unexpected change caught Danitz off guard. He barely had time to dodge. He hurriedly tucked in his neck, curled up his body, and rolled forward, narrowly avoiding the fatal strike.
A crimson mass appeared in his left palm again. However, the flame did not expand; instead, it contracted inward, layer upon layer.
In just a second, while dodging, Danitz threw an orange-yellow fireball that was only the size of an eye.
Guided by his spirituality, the fireball arced through the air and flew directly into the withered head's mouth.
Boom!
A flash of light, and the explosion split the flying head apart from the inside. Countless fragments, along with blood, scattered all around.
"Finally dealt with..." Danitz flipped over and stood up, letting out a sigh of relief.
It was only now that he realized these monsters, reduced to just a head, were not so easy to handle. Yet, Gehrman Sparrow had effortlessly taken one down.
"It's mainly because the extraordinary abilities of the Sun domain are very effective against things like this!" Danitz added a dismissive thought.
As his thoughts churned, he turned his head and saw that Gehrman Sparrow hadn't waited for him at all. Carrying his cane and lantern, the man was already jogging into the distance, the tails of his black coat fluttering slightly behind him.
"...Shit! Wait for me... Wait for me!" Danitz's pupils contracted. He took off in long strides to catch up, not daring to stay alone in the thin mist and dim surroundings.
.............
Inside the Green Lemon Restaurant.
Tonna stared at the white porcelain bowl placed before her, which contained chunks of dark red blood curd. She recalled the eerie, horrifying feeling she had when watching the earlier guests eat, and the gushing blood that had spilled from the neck of the headless figure in the cloak.
Her throat bobbed as she barely suppressed the urge to vomit.
Tonna decided to forgo this delicacy, even as its strong, alluring aroma invaded her nostrils.
She ate a bit of salad and mashed potatoes, waiting for the wind outside to die down. The wall clock seemed to tick by so slowly.
Time passed. Group by group, the customers paid their bills and left the second floor. The place grew quieter and emptier.
Thump, thump, thump! Tonna found the sound of their footsteps heading down the wooden stairs unbearably irritating.