Backlund, Cherwood Borough.
The clatter of wheels echoed through the street.
Several carriages rolled swiftly down the road, their bodies painted plain black without any ornament or crest. Even the windows were pitch dark, giving no hint of what lay inside.
Inside one swaying carriage, Silas leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, resting while his mind worked through the analysis.
The Black Knight.
Shadow, corruption, the spread of depravity, the summoning of despair.
And what did the Evernight Goddess herself symbolize?
Darkness.
Pure darkness.
In a way, that fit well with the name "Black Knight."
Could it be that what he was doing now, leading his subordinates to hunt down enemies in the name of darkness, was exactly what a knight was meant to do?
If that reasoning held, then after cleansing evil in the name of the goddess of darkness, his potion should see even better digestion.
Silas found this genuinely good news.
If his thinking was correct, he ought to form a small team of his own, one that would let him properly play the part.
Regardless, the title "knight" carried clear implications of guardianship, of hunting down evil, of combat. Whether moving through shadow or through darkness, he needed to hold fast to his true heart even while carrying out the fight.
The carriage jolted once, then settled back into stillness.
Outside, quick footsteps approached, and a respectful voice spoke up. "Deacon, sir, we've arrived."
By the voice, it had to be Soest.
"Mm."
Silas came back to himself and gave a low acknowledgment. The carriage door was pulled open from outside, and several team members stood waiting: Soest, Leonard, and Lady Daly, who watched him closely.
These few all had solid abilities. It might be worth pulling them out to form a new team of my own. And I need an assistant too, someone to handle my day to day affairs. There's more work at the upper levels of the Church than I'd expected.
So Silas thought to himself as he stepped down from the carriage.
The carriage had stopped in front of a residential building. Though it was mid afternoon, the street was strangely empty of people, and an unsettling atmosphere was quietly spreading through the air.
Silas looked over the group.
"Tell me the current situation."
He spoke steadily.
"The target is in the house with the white roof, two streets over," Soest answered. "After keeping watch for a while now, we've spotted quite a few cult members going in and out. By tracking their movements, we've also pinned down more of their associates."
He gave a brief report.
"Do we have enough people for the arrest?"
Silas asked.
"More than enough. I've also called in night watchmen from the churches in the other districts to help. Every team has at least one Red Glove backing them up," Soest replied. "They'll move together with us, all at the same time."
"Good, that'll do."
Silas nodded at this and strode into the residence.
The room inside was quite bare.
The living room held no furniture at all, only an altar standing alone, with all manner of materials piled on the floor, shimmering faintly with spiritual light. Leonard and another team member had just carried them in.
"Is everything ready?"
Silas asked.
"Deacon, sir, everything's in place," Leonard answered. "I checked the list item by item."
"Good."
Silas walked up to the altar and gave a wave of his hand. The black shadows sprang up as if alive, lifting the materials one by one onto the table.
That's right, he was going back to his old trade. He was about to perform a ritual once more.
This particular ritual was powerful.
It would let him commune with the Spirit World and temporarily seal off a stretch of space, cutting it off from all outside contact.
In simple terms, it was the same thing the "Divine Abomination" Suah had once done: locking down the Spirit World so that passage through it became nearly impossible.
Mr. X, Lewis Wien, was a Traveler. Once he found himself at a disadvantage in a fight, he was very likely to flee at once. With this ritual in place, there'd be no need to worry about him slipping away through the Spirit World.
"Once this ritual is successfully cast, you can all begin moving in."
Silas said to Soest, then drew out his silver dagger. Spirituality hissed from its tip, forming a wall of spirit to seal the inside off from the outside.
But just as his ritual was about to begin, he suddenly sensed something was wrong.
Somewhere in the block ahead, a surge of spiritual fluctuation had abruptly appeared, then vanished without a trace.
Someone had left through Spirit World Travel!
...
A few minutes earlier.
Inside a certain room in Mr. X's residence.
A candle flame no bigger than a bean flickered faintly, the only source of light in the sealed, windowless space.
Across from it, the candlelight cast a huge, pitch black shadow on the wall, one that swayed with the flame, carrying an indescribable strangeness.
Suddenly, that shadow spoke.
"Another week gone, and the Blood Reverend still hasn't taken the bait."
The low, hoarse voice of Kisma, the "Saint Tenebrous," echoed through the room, carrying with it a faint stench of depravity and blasphemy.
The trap had already been laid, yet the prey was slow to walk into it, and it was hard for a hunter not to feel his patience wearing thin. But the one he was speaking with, Botis, the "Saint of Secrets," remained entirely unmoved.
"It was the Lord's will that brought us here."
The corner of his mouth twitched, forming an odd expression that resembled a smile. "Do you think the Lord was wrong?"
"Don't try to provoke me, Botis."
On the wall, the huge shadow writhed. A moment later, a powerfully built figure forced its way out from within it.
It was an enormous Black Knight, its eyes flickering with a terrifying red light. "My faith in the Lord is beyond doubt. You're in no position to lecture me."
He paused, then added, his tone laced with a touch of sarcasm, "And don't think I don't know what's going through your head. The longer you stay in Backlund, the better it is for you, isn't that right?"
"Because it seems there's a trace of an Apprentice pathway Beyonder in Backlund, and you're worried that it might be a new disciple of the Abraham Family. Worried that family might raise up a powerful Beyonder to come seeking revenge against you."
As a fellow Saint, Kisma felt no need at all to spare him any cover.
Botis let out a dry laugh.
"Then keep your mouth shut and wait quietly."
He said, "Just a little more..."
Crack.
A crisp, splitting sound rang out.
The smile on Botis's face froze at once. He turned his head and saw that the crystal ball sitting on the table had already split with a crack running through it.
Swish!
He reached out quickly and swept his hand across the surface of the crystal ball.
Though a crack now ran through it, the crystal ball still began to work under his urging.
A thick, impure light mingled with an illusory mist filled its depths, but gradually, as the mist and light faded, the face of a young woman appeared within the crystal ball.
She was a young lady with an air of languor about her, her light brown hair slightly curled, speaking with visible restraint.
Judging by the shape of her lips, she was saying a short Runic word: "Teacher."