The man with a rosy nose hurried over to the safe, pulling out a radio transmitter and a password book from a hidden compartment. He knelt down, quickly translating the news of Charlie Reck's accident into coded messages, pressing the transmitter with rapid, rhythmic bursts. Inside the house where the Reck Bookstore stood, the brown-skinned housemaid rolled up her sleeves and splashed a bottle of indigo liquid onto her left arm. The skin immediately changed color, yet beneath the indigo, subtle streaks of black shimmered, like drifting nematodes. These black streaks soon coalesced into a strange, half-hand-sized face—small eyes like grains of rice, a large mouth like a teacup. "Charlie Reck has met with an accident," the housemaid said, speaking word by word to the face on her arm. Each word seemed to take on its own form, materializing as distinct, indigo-colored entities between her mouth and her arm. Then, one after another, these words seemed woven together, enveloped in smoke of the same hue. At that moment, the strange face on the maid’s arm gradually opened its mouth, drawing in the indigo smoke and the words together. All the anomalies vanished, leaving only the skin at the location of her arm still lacking its original color. In the darkness outside the window, a small, ordinary bat fluttered its wings, breaking stillness and taking flight, heading somewhere unknown. ………… On another street just under five hundred meters from the Reck Bookstore, a restaurant specializing in southern continent cuisine stood half-empty. One by one, small bats emerged from the darkness, gathering into a cluster, rising with a dense vapor. The vapor and the bats seemed merely illusory, vanishing instantly, leaving only the silhouette of a man in a tailcoat, yet without the matching hat. The man was tall and slender, with a most upright bearing; his hair was pale, approaching silver, and his eyes a vivid crimson, as if holding blood. He was Lord Mistral, the Count of the Bloodline. Raising his left hand, adorned with a ring of deep blue stone, he adjusted his slightly ostentatious bow tie and looked down at the restaurant now closed and shuttered. "Both pieces of information have finally converged here." As soon as he finished speaking, a figure materialized directly across from him—dressed in a deep black court gown, wearing a small, soft hat of the same hue, with hair of pale gold and eyes of clear blue, a complexion notably pale, as if carved from the most refined doll. The trees along the street suddenly began to sway gently, and the gas streetlamps flickered in unison. "A 'doll,' then," Lord Mistral nodded slightly, acknowledging Sharon's identity and status. Sharon did not look at him but instead gazed toward the second floor of the restaurant. "There's a lingering sense of reverence for the 'Tree of Desire,'" she said. "That settles it." "Mistral turned halfway through the air, nodding toward the region of deepest darkness, and said, 'Lord Nibais, please seal this area.' A deep, resonant sigh followed. Suddenly, a pair of wings, covered in dark membranous tissue and adorned with countless symbols, burst forth from the darkness, expanding rapidly—widening and growing larger—within just a few seconds, fully enveloping the surroundings. The restaurant was instantly plunged into an unusual darkness, as though it had been transported out of the real world. Mistral did not hesitate, nor did he immediately launch an attack. Instead, he produced a bronze box set with several rubies, and from it, extracted an object: a transparent glass orb shaped like an eye. Mistral, the Count of the Bloodline, slightly contorted his expression in discomfort, gently releasing the orb from his fingers and allowing it to fall downward. The glass orb began to emit a faint glow in the darkness, continuously adjusting its orientation in the air as if drawn by some unseen force." In the end, it settled into a room on the second floor of the restaurant. At once, a brilliant, radiant light erupted—within that room, as though the "sun" had risen, illuminating everything, swiftly melting away all filth, decay, evil, immortality, and darkness. "Hm…" Mistral, who had closed his eyes earlier, suddenly furrowed his brows, emitting a tone of curiosity. He hadn't sensed any resistance from the restaurant itself! Although Sharon's expression remained unchanged, her tightly bound pale golden hair seemed to tremble slightly. After the "sun" rose, it swiftly set, and the brilliant white light sank into silence against the darkness. Since this was an effect specifically targeting spirits of evil, the building housing the restaurant remained undamaged. The vampire count, Mistral, opened his eyes, gazed for a few seconds, then extended his right hand and grasped upward with sudden force. The darkness above the restaurant suddenly came to life, transforming into a series of ethereal chains that bound the entire ceiling. With a sound that grated on the teeth, the ceiling was forcibly lifted and suspended in midair. Freed from this obstruction, both Mistral and Sharon now clearly saw the situation inside the target room: a radio receiver stood on a square table laid with a dining cloth, beside it was the translated message, and on the floor, a cluster of indigo-black smears remained; on the opposite side of the room, an older piano stood, its bench a warm brown, as though recently moved; upon the piano, a glass of red wine was placed, with a strange, flesh-colored, sticky figure submerged within it; the rest of the furnishings and arrangements were ordinary for a household, merely enhanced by scattered herbal powders and drops of essential oil. This prompted a faint thought to emerge in Sharon’s mind—someone who could directly receive insights from the spirit world—here, the people had just left. Before Lady Mistral, Count de Nabiès, and the others could make any response, the red wine, infused with the small humanoid figures of rose hue, began to emit a soft, luminous glow. This radiance instantly expanded, brightening until it formed a vast, seemingly enormous "red moon" within the room. The luminous aura of the "red moon" dispelled the darkness in the area, giving the semi-gods engaged in battle the sensation of being on the ground, gazing up at the sky. Lady Saran's azure eyes momentarily froze, and with a swift motion of her left hand, she gently lifted it, revealing a dark red artifact resting in her palm. The object resembled a circular moon, encrusted with numerous crimson stones around its circumference, and adorned with lunar symbols and various mysterious inscriptions. This was the "Deep Crimson Coronet" that Saran had obtained with the assistance of Sherlock Moriarty. It continuously radiated a tranquil glow, granting its bearer immunity to the effects of a full moon. Yet the "Red Moon" within the restaurant was not merely a full moon—it approached, if not surpassed, the hue of a blood moon. As a result, an indescribable spiritual energy surged, imbuing the area isolated by Nibais's vast wings with an eerie, profound stillness. Even with the "Deep-Red Coronet" in her hands, Sharon felt her inner malice swelling, sensing an unseen transformation stirring within her body. Instinctively, she longed to transform into a malevolent spirit, retreating into the trunks of the avenue trees and the gas streetlamps, but her rational mind restrained her impulse, for the illumination of the "Red Moon" was all-encompassing. At that moment, Count Mistral noticed his abdomen gradually swelling, feeling his life's pulse slowly coalescing within him, striving to take shape. As a transcendent being capable of drawing upon the power of the "Moon," he had not prepared any additional measures to counteract the effects of the Blood Moon. He had originally expected to thrive in this environment, to fully express himself—yet the unfolding circumstances proved utterly unexpected and eerie. He began to feel that if he continued to delay, he himself would nurture a new life—an evil, terrifying life, its origins mysterious. The very authority of the "Moon" inherently encompasses reproduction and procreation! At the same time, on the immense bat wings that had previously shrouded the surrounding area and cast darkness, fine white hairs began to sprout densely, an especially chilling sight. Nibyes emitted a low hum, sensing a crack forming in the seal of this region. Outside several streets, Emlyn White, idly rubbing the "Rose's Vow" ring set with a deep blue gemstone, suddenly gained the current sensory perception of Count Mistral, seeing what he saw and hearing what he heard. And certain sensations and thoughts belonging to Count Mirtille, accumulated over a long time, finally reached Emlin's mind, causing him to sit up straight with a start, his expression twisting and his stomach churning with a strong urge to vomit. Klein's true form, sheltered by the "craving hunger," was hidden in the shadows outside the dining room, but the spectral doppelgänger he controlled—Quonas Colg—had already slipped into the darkness created by Nibais and, using "distortion," had bypassed the isolation, maintaining the connection of the "spiritual thread." Now, under the glow of the ethereal "Red Moon," he was astonished to observe that even the spectral doppelgängers—essentially the dead—seemed to be exhibiting a tendency toward self-replication! These new lives, he realized, must be offspring of the "Mother Tree of Desire." This, this bears resemblance to the legends of the bloodline progenitor Lilith from the Silver City, as well as certain manifestations described by Emlyn of the "Primordial Moon"... Indeed, the "Tree of Desire" has already seized partial authority from the "Moon," and infected it with an even more eerie, more sinister essence than originally present. As Caine prepared to exchange positions with the secret figure, entering the realm illuminated by the Red Moon and being "transported" away with Miss Sharon, an indescribable joy suddenly surged within him. It was the joy of seeing, after a long night, a slow, gentle bloom of happiness within his own garden at dawn, as the morning mist settled. It was the joy of leaving the city behind and venturing into the countryside, breathing in the fresh air after rain, witnessing mushrooms sprouting—joy of life renewing itself, of new growth arriving. The fine white down on the vast bat wings surrounding them had all fallen away. The Countess Mirstra's slightly distended abdomen had now gently receded. And Miss Sharon, who had been holding on tightly to the "Deep-Red Coronet," now seemed to have lightened in her gaze. Immediately, the "Red Moon" in the restaurant dimmed swiftly, as though its brilliance had been swiftly drawn away. Finally, the "Red Moon" vanished, and everything returned to normal. Was it the Duke of the Bloodline, Ormer, who had stepped in? Klein nodded thoughtfully, continuing to remain hidden in the shadows. Mistrall, meanwhile, calmed his indignation and gazed steadily at the dining area, speaking in a measured tone: "The target seems to have sensed something earlier..." "Not very long ago," Sharon replied, drawing on the current situation and insights received from the Spirit Realm. Mistrall's vivid red eyes gleamed with a curious light as he observed and analyzed for several seconds before adding: "It appears that the people here only left at the very moment we arrived—leaving behind that glass of red wine and that odd doll." "This trap doesn't feel premeditated; rather, it seems to have been arranged on the spot..." At this point, Mistrall turned to Sharon and asked: "Why were they able to detect the danger so promptly?" Sharon responded calmly, her tone unchanged: "Not because of the 'Tree of Desire.' This deity still hasn't been able to channel much power into the real world, making early warnings difficult."