When he saw Leonard Mitchell, Klein's back muscles instantly tensed up, his mind drawn as taut as a bowstring stretched to its limit, ready to snap.
He remembered it perfectly. Inhabiting his poet classmate's body was an angel of the Marauder pathway, Pallez Zoroast. He could sense the specialness of Klein's being and thus see right through his disguise!
If that old man told Leonard the guardian in front of him was trouble, things would go south fast. He could only hope his poet classmate, afraid of his own secrets being exposed, would swallow his discomfort and pretend not to know. Back in Tingen, he always said everyone had their secrets and it wasn't a big deal, but that was when it didn't directly target the Church. Who knew if a sudden burst of righteousness might make him decide to be loyal to his duty and risk exposing him? After all, this was eerily similar to the Ince Zangwill incident… In that instant, Klein almost broke out in a cold sweat.
Honestly, he hadn't expected to run into Leonard on his way to the Chanis Gate. Leonard was already a "Red Glove," not an ordinary Nighthawk. He didn't need to take shifts guarding the basement, and he had no business being down here at this hour.
But Klein quickly thought of a key point.
It was Pallez Zoroast who could sense his specialness, not Leonard Mitchell. The old man's attitude was much more critical!
The old man knows I know he exists. If he blows my cover and puts me in danger, he has to be prepared for me to expose him right back. It would be mutual destruction with no benefit to anyone. For an angel of the Marauder pathway who doesn't even follow the Goddess, this was completely unnecessary. If I were him, I'd just pretend nothing happened and not warn Leonard Mitchell at all, not staking my safety on the whim of my host… Having sorted his thoughts, Klein calmed down and walked straight towards Leonard Mitchell with the red gloves.
Leonard glanced casually at the internal guardian across from him, whose hair was thinning and white as frost. He couldn't help lifting his right hand, covering half his mouth, and yawning.
Staying up all night with nothing to do, going to the duty room to play cards with people? What a textbook Sleepless… Klein roughly understood why his poet classmate, a "Red Glove," was here.
Recalling how the internal guardians in Tingen City used to react when encountering Nighthawks, Klein silently nodded at Leonard. He used the index and middle fingers of his right hand to trace four points clockwise on his chest, as if drawing a full moon.
Leonard responded with the same gesture. Without a hint of suspicion, he passed right by the internal guardian with the loose skin and big nose and walked straight ahead.
Klein let out a silent breath. Keeping his pace and stride, he made his way to his destination.
The iron-black double doors were heavy and cold, engraved with seven holy emblems. It seemed nothing could shake them.
Klein turned sideways, took two diagonal steps, knocked on the door of the guard room, and, witnessed by the Nighthawk on duty, opened the Chanis Gate.
The profound darkness inside immediately churned. Even with silver candles engraved with patterns burning quietly inside, it couldn't dispel this feeling. The faint blue flames instead deepened the sense of deathly stillness.
At the same time, Klein felt intangible things scraping across his skin in the darkness, penetrating deep into his body, crossing the boundary between the real and the illusory, connecting him with the "Wraith" Senor.
Suddenly, without even opening his Spirit Vision, he saw black threads filling the entire space behind the Chanis Gate. They swayed gently, bunching up or stretching out, as if a lady was letting down her hair or some bizarre creature was waving its tentacles.
Klein stepped forward with an indifferent expression, entering the sealed area. Then he turned around and pushed the Chanis Gate shut.
At this moment, all sounds from the outside world seemed completely cut off. The interior was as silent as the land of the dead. It involuntarily stirred his imagination, involuntarily made him feel fear. It reminded Klein of his childhood, when, even without hearing ghost stories, he would occasionally lie in his small bed, staring at the darkness with his eyes wide open, afraid to sleep.
No wonder the Goddess had the title "Empress of Fear"… Klein turned his gaze, lifted the kerosene lamp placed in the corner, and skillfully lit it.
A dim yellow light poured out, tinged with a touch of faint blue.
Dressed in a black clerical robe, Klein did not rush down into the underground, heading to the second level to find the Antigonus family's notes. Instead, he remained behind the door, patiently waiting.
This was to guard against a Nighthawk urgently needing something but being unable to retrieve it due to the night, having to wait for dawn.
According to his experience, the first five minutes after an internal guardian entered the Chanis Gate was one of the most likely periods for interruptions. As long as he got through that smoothly, and nothing unexpected happened in between, normal material retrieval would wait until around 8 o'clock, the standard working hours for Nighthawks and clerical staff.
In other words, once Klein survived the first five minutes, he would basically not be disturbed by the Nighthawks for the next two hours. Of course, the actual time for action wouldn't be so generous. The Church of the Goddess of the Night opened its doors at 8 AM. The servants would start getting up and working at least 1 to 1.5 hours earlier. After 6:30, other servants might discover a missing colleague at any moment!
Time ticked by, second by second. Klein's heartbeat couldn't help but quicken. These five minutes felt like an ordeal.
Finally, finishing his silent count, he cast his gaze towards the stone steps in the depths of the darkness. That was the passage to the second level.
At this moment, no one here could restrict him anymore!
Having reached this point, Klein felt he had overcome 70% of the difficulties. The remaining 30% lay mainly in how to leave after he got what he came for.
Of course, there was always a certain probability of various accidents. Klein did not let his guard down. Carrying the kerosene lamp, he walked step by step towards the stone stairs.
For other Beyonders, the first level behind the Chanis Gate was actually more attractive than the sealed artefacts. It stored all kinds of Beyonder materials, potion formulas, and secret knowledge. Even captured cultists and wild Beyonders were imprisoned here. An infiltrator, whether they wanted to get rich and advance or rescue their companions, would find it sufficient to operate just on this floor.
But Klein had to go deeper, to the place where the truly harmful items were sealed.
Passing by a few tightly locked stone rooms, he clearly sensed people inside. But they didn't make noise, didn't roar, didn't beg for mercy, didn't call for help. They all lay or sat quietly, their auras already cold and sinister.