The five Night Watch stood before the Fire Wolf's corpse like statues, the atmosphere after the great battle pressing down on them, heavy and suffocating, turbulent currents hidden beneath the silence.
Time ticked away second by second, and just as the darkness seemed on the verge of shattering under the unbearable pressure, the "Clown" at the very front spoke without turning around, the word squeezed through clenched teeth: "Professor!"
His tone was cold, venomous, brimming with grinding hatred and deep, abiding loathing.
Another Night Watch captain—"the Codex Bearer"—Salvador seemed to snap awake from the Clown's outburst. He removed his Black Gloves and traced a cross over his chest with his right hand, his voice low and grief-stricken: "In sacrifice, find reaping. In death, find eternity. The gates of heaven shall open for you."
Having offered his mourning, Salvador drew out a pristine white handkerchief and tied it to his wrist, the stark and chilling contrast it formed with the Black Gloves he had put back on unmistakable: "I will 'keep watch over your graves' until I catch the Professor and bind him to the stake."
Great Knight Lund also traced a cross over his chest, then imitated Salvador by tying a white handkerchief around his own wrist: "I too shall 'keep watch over your graves' until that cunning, vicious evil mage is purified — unless I die first."
The Vorlite Tribunal's second Night Watch squad, apart from Captain "the Codex Bearer" Salvador and Deputy Captain "the Demon Hunter Knight" Lund — two fifth-tier powerhouses — had been entirely wiped out. Both of them hated the Professor, the mastermind behind this disaster, to the very marrow of their bones.
Julianna still felt a chill of terror when she recalled the earlier battle. Her companions had died silently in the darkness one by one, or been utterly annihilated before overwhelming dark arts. Had it not been sheer luck — the two Cardinals, Miss Camille, and Princess Natasha happened to be nearby investigating another matter — she too would have been "wrapped in burial shrouds." So beyond hatred for that mysterious and cunning Professor, she harbored a subconscious dread and fear of him.
But at this moment, stung by those four bloody words and swept up in the atmosphere, hatred overwhelmed all other emotions, and she too tied a white handkerchief around her wrist: "The Professor will be the top name on my tracking list."
"Bastard!" The Clown saw this and heard the others' words. His voice started low, then erupted into a roar: "I will never let you go! I'll have your soul gnawed by demons, I'll cast you into hell to suffer for eternity! Damn you, Professor — no matter where you flee, I will catch you with my own hands, tear off your mask, and turn you into my puppet! I swear I will catch you myself!"
Since being called to join the Night Watch, this was the Clown's most devastating failure yet. Though his faith in the Church was never fervent, though he had always loathed the deceased deputy captain and some of the squad members, among those who remained were companions he could trust, "shields" who had guarded his back. And now, with his pride and confidence as a fifth-tier Great Knight completely shattered by this disaster, the Clown could no longer control his emotions, cursing the "Professor" with wild abandon.
This loss of composure, set against the ever-smiling clown mask on his face, made for an eerie and terrifying sight.
The other Night Watch members understood the Clown's feelings and did not interrupt his venting. Minsk also tied on a white handkerchief: "I was once closest to the Professor, but let him escape. Next time we meet, he won't be so lucky!" Although equipped with Red Dragon scales, Dragon Fear, dragon breath, and Black Gloves, Minsk was fully comparable to a second-tier knight — yet he had no confidence in capturing the Professor, who was at least a third-circle mage, by himself alone. Still, now was not the time to show fear or cowardice.
Once the Clown finished roaring out his rage, he turned calm and deep, the comically smiling face of his mask turning to regard the other Night Watch: "I propose adding the Professor to the 'Purge List' — a continent-wide warrant for capture and elimination. I suspect that after orchestrating such an enormous conspiracy, he will leave Altor very soon."
The "Purge List" was the Church's Inquisitorial Tribunal's roster of priority targets for elimination. Every diocese's clergy and Night Watch received a copy, and anyone placed on the list, even after leaving their original location, would face the Church's ruthless pursuit and purging.
Hearing the Clown's proposal, Lund hesitated: "The evil figures on the Purge List all possess strength enough to influence an entire nation. Many are even legendary beings who can reshape the continental and world order. The Professor is merely a mid-tier mage of the third or fourth circle — what qualifies him to be on the list?"
The Church's resources were limited, and priority targets had to be carefully selected. The top thirty names on the "Purge List" had not changed in many years, because eliminating any of them was extraordinarily difficult.
"I support the Clown's proposal," Salvador said gravely, nodding. "Though the Professor's strength is insufficient — he hasn't even reached the high-tier — his cunning and ruthlessness surpass most enemies. The destruction he has caused is more than enough to warrant inclusion on the 'Purge List.' Together, we will propose it to Archbishop Amorton."
Minsk and Julianna followed: "I also agree. Destructive power is not equal to raw strength alone."
Twenty-five Night Watch members — that represented one-third of the Altor Tribunal's fighting force, equivalent to one-twentieth of the Vorlite Principality's knights. Such a loss could only be called devastating.
Gathering the remains of their companions that could be found, the five Night Watch mourned once more, each silently swearing an oath:
"I will catch the Professor with my own hands!"
…………
After clearing away all traces, Lucian dissolved his body into moonlight, circled to the other side of the estate at the edge of the dark forest, and materialized as a faint afterimage, quietly scaling the wall.
He landed without a single sound, and using the estate's vegetation as cover, quickly reached the shadows at the rear of the three-story main house.
Just as Lucian was about to climb, his heart suddenly clenched. His sharp senses detected something amiss, and without a moment's hesitation he spun around, every nerve taut, staring into the nearby shadows.
"Hi, good evening, Lucian." From the shadows, a silver-haired, silver-eyed handsome man stepped out without warning. He wore no coat, only a loose dark-red shirt with the collar buttons undone, exposing fair skin — as if he had been about to go to sleep.
Lucian, who had been poised to strike, relaxed slightly when he saw it was Rhein. At least he was someone who harbored his own secrets. If it had been anyone else, he would have had no choice but to flee straight into the dark forest.