St. Samuel's Church, behind the Charnel Gate. Bishop Saint Anthony of Bekland stands at the stairwell connecting the ground floor to the upper level, observing several "Night Watch" deacons bustling about, among them several wearing red gloves. As the representative of the Night Church in the capital of the kingdom, Saint Anthony's clean-shaven face shows no obvious emotion, and the deep, calm black eyes remain still and unflinching. Yet every person who passes by feels their soul tremble, a profound, indescribable, and irresistible fear rising within them. "My Lord Archbishop, upon inspection, all materials of the esoteric arts have been accounted for, including the primary ingredients of potions and their exceptional properties..." "My Lord Archbishop, all potion recipes remain in their original positions; it has been preliminarily determined that no one has disturbed them for nearly eight hours..." "My Lord Archbishop, all prisoners held in the first level are present—none have escaped, none have died..." "My Lord Archbishop, all records and manuscripts remain undamaged and have not been moved in any way..." "My Lord Archbishop, all Level 3 and Level 2 seals are intact, with not a single one taken..." "My Lord Archbishop, the three Level 1 seals remain in their sealed condition, showing no signs of having left their designated areas..." "My Lord Archbishop, the core of the seals remains fully intact, undamaged in any way..." "My Lord Archbishop, confirmed—there is no additional item present, and no traces of hazardous arrangements remain..." "My Lord Archbishop, no enemy has been found who infiltrated by posing as an internal guard; he appears to have simply... evaporated..." As one after another of the stewards reported, the situation began to take on an increasingly eerie quality. They couldn't imagine that a cunning, powerful, extraordinary figure—having taken on immense risks, meticulously planned, and employed every means possible—finally entered the gate of Charnis after all that effort, only to accomplish nothing, simply stroll around, and then depart! It seemed as though the other party had merely sought to demonstrate their own capabilities, or specifically to help the Church identify vulnerabilities in the gatekeeping procedures at Charnis. If that were truly the case, Sostre seemed to have already caught the underling's mocking smile, saying, "Even if the night itself teaches me the way to the Charnes Gate, I can move freely in and out—no different from going to a department store. Those 'Night Watchers' can only rage in frustration and helplessness once the matter is concluded." Sostre gently squeezed the red-gloved hand in his palm. Saint Anthony was about to speak when another Night Watcher, the steward Dail Simonne, proposed an alternative: "Perhaps when the underling attempted to remove a sealed object, a negative effect struck him, causing him to die instantly—fully consumed?" Saint Anthony nodded thoughtfully. "I'll go check on the third level." With that, he moved steadily deeper into the second level, opening a hidden passage that led to the third. The other stewards, lacking the necessary authority, remained where they were. Saint Anthony quickly reached the relatively small third floor, scanning the scene and initially confirming that neither of the sealed objects—“1–29” nor “1–80”—had shown any unusual changes. Following a strict protocol, he observed the interior of “1–80” through “1–29,” and found “0–17” lying there, half-open-eyed, as usual. Throughout this process, Saint Anthony came close three times, then stepped back three times, occasionally shifting his position and at other times allowing a layer of night to envelop him, never relaxing his vigilance. — Even as a saint, he could not take for granted the significance of each item here. While the occasional breakthrough of a container—resulting in a temporary failure of the seal—could affect “0–17,” even “1–29” and “1–80” themselves were highly perilous. Anthony did not want to risk becoming a “forgetter,” someone who had to relearn how to eat and drink, nor did he wish to become merely a part of the dream that existed between reality and illusion. No problem… Anthony silently exhaled, beginning to restore the outer two sealings to their previous states. A few minutes later, the "Night Watch" stewards saw the Most Reverend return to the upper level. "The infiltrator may have already died from contact with the sealings," Saint Anthony said, his voice slightly uncertain when he uttered the word "died." He offered no explanation, but instead instructed: "Regardless, this matter must be investigated thoroughly—the infiltrator likely has allies! His ability to enter the Saint Samuel Church without causing any disturbance indicates that he is well-acquainted with the site, familiar with the recent shifts in the internal guards' shifts, knowledgeable about the Night Watch handover procedures, and either possesses the ability or has access to means of altering his appearance. Furthermore, he either received assistance from a remarkable individual holding a sacred artifact of the Night Path, or this ability is inherent to him himself." "Given these conditions, investigate whether the servants and priests have experienced subtle spiritual phenomena or been subtly influenced; examine whether the bishops have abandoned the goddess; investigate the recent parishioners who have been visiting the church frequently... and also investigate the neighborhoods where these parishioners live—perhaps they haven't intentionally revealed information, but it has been stolen by others. As for you, I will handle that. "Also, locate the missing servant and look for any clues." "Yes, Your Grace," the "Night Watch" stewards, including Sostre, responded simultaneously. ........ In the tense office, Leonard Mitchell did not rest his feet on the desk as he usually did, sitting upright with a serious demeanor and a notably serious expression. This was the second time he had encountered the issue concerning the items from behind the Charnel Gate, and it had stirred up memories buried deep within him. More importantly, he had once met the supposed internal guard, yet had failed to detect any anomalies at the time!" If only I were stronger, if only I had better observational skills—perhaps then it wouldn’t have happened. Leonard Mitchell’s lips were pressed tightly together as he stared at the documents before him, unable to focus on a single word, until a teammate entered. "The internal guard has awakened," the incoming "Red Glove" announced to everyone in the room. "He didn’t see the intruder; all he knows is that he was possessed by a spirit." Several "Red Gloves" expressed doubt: "How could a spirit move freely within the church?" Yet no one could offer an explanation. Perhaps that spirit believed in the goddess... Leonard murmured to himself, barely audible as he remained unnoticed in the corner. "Old man, didn’t you notice anything out of the ordinary?" The voice in his mind, slightly weathered, echoed back: "I don’t observe the outside world constantly, especially not near the Charnes Gate." Leonard didn’t press further, and simply joined the team’s conversation. Not long after, Captain Sostre entered the room, tossing a stack of documents onto the table: "These are our targets to investigate—the bishops have provided a list of parishioners who have recently been visiting the church." Leonard scanned the documents quickly and spotted a familiar name near the center of the first page: Dauvien Tancrede! This...this old man from the Fourth Age, who had only just moved into the neighborhood two months ago, had been targeted in the breach at the Charny Gate. Wasn't that a bit too coincidental? Moreover, he had been a regular at St. Samuel's Church, likely observing the situation and gathering patterns. The excuse he'd given earlier didn't quite hold up. But if the intruder were Dauvien Tancrede, everything would make sense—he'd been afraid of being discovered, so he'd feigned unawareness. A flurry of thoughts flashed through Leonard Mitchell's mind as he carefully asked, "Captain Sostre, what did the intruder take? What clues did he leave behind?" "Sost looked around and said, 'Nothing has been taken, nothing left behind—just as if he'd never entered at all. Initially, the Archbishop suspects that he has already died and evaporated due to contact with certain seals. Our main focus is on identifying his associates.' No, Doun Thantès couldn't have died so easily! He's a creature that has lived through the Fourth Age... But what could have driven him to make this infiltration? Leonard slightly furrowed his brow, hesitated, then voluntarily included Doun Thantès in his own and his two teammates' investigation scope. When 'Red Glove' and the local 'Night Watch' members began their operations, Leonard found an excuse to head to the restroom first, speaking softly, 'What do you think about Doun Thantès?' He didn't break the truth that the resident parasite had just revealed. The slightly weathered voice chuckled, 'Didn't I already tell you that?' I knew him little, except that he seemed special, with an ancient aura. "However, the case you investigated earlier gave me some inspiration. I suspect that Doun Tangtes is connected to that matter—in fact, perhaps one of the agents of an entity." "What matter? Which entity?" Leonard stammered in surprise. A voice in his mind, aged and somewhat unusual, replied: "The Fool who does not belong to this age." ... 160 Berkland Street. After breakfast, Cain returned to his semi-open room with a large balcony, sat down in his armchair, and rested his hands on his temples. As the tension gradually subsided, Crane found his mind growing hazy, constantly seeing the corpses suspended in midair within the ancient church, the translucent, worm-like mass from his memory's deeper, blurred depths, and hearing a phantom voice echoing constantly in his ears: "Hornachis... Freglah..." Although I had swiftly severed contact with the secret figures, I still felt a certain influence—my spirit had been slightly contaminated. Indeed, true mythic beings. After completing the initial investigation, I would need to address these lingering effects. Crane slowly exhaled, using meditation to steady himself.