Still in the night, a car drove through the rain that had started not long ago.
Inside were the familiar figures of Vincent and Lumian. The atmosphere was heavy and quiet, broken only by the steady patter of raindrops striking the roof and windows. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks beneath the downpour.
The car had been hired after Lumian called the Captain to report his discovery. Upon hearing it, Hargreaves immediately dispatched Vincent and arranged for a private vehicle.
Vincent stared out the window for a while, watching the heavy rain blur the city lights into vague shapes.
After a moment, he sighed. "The weather in Betyl is becoming rather strange, hehe. Wasn't it just yesterday that it rained? And now it's pouring again." With that he turned to Lumian.
Lumian gave a small chuckle. "Maybe it's just the season. Remember, it's February after all."
Vincent smiled faintly and rested his hand against the window. "Hmm, that's true… but not every February is like this."
Switching the topic, he asked, "So… you found the text?"
Lumian shook his head slightly. "Not exactly. But the Captain placed a spell on it. He said when I get close, I'll feel a tingling sensation."
Vincent hummed thoughtfully. After a pause, he asked,
"You'll feel it when we're close… but how are we supposed to know which direction it's coming from?"
...
"..."
Hearing that, Lumian fell silent. To be honest, he had never thought about direction—he had only planned to use himself as a tracker.
Noticing his silence, Vincent reached into his pocket and pulled out a purple-colored pendant.
"Derrick told me to give you this," he said, handing it over. "Since you'll be searching for a specific item."
He smiled faintly and continued, "He also said that when using it, you should enter invigoration and align yourself with the environment… Focus on the spirituality you sense when the tingling begins."
Lumian studied the pendant for a moment before looking up with a chuckle. "How do you remember exactly what he said? I thought you chose the Visionary Order."
Vincent shook his head slowly. "Lumian, I'm not dumb. I just chose a different Order."
Lumian laughed softly, but his expression soon turned serious as he raised the pendant.
...
He quickly activated his mystic eyes. Immediately white silloutes drifted around him like smoke. At the same time, he entered invigoration.
For a brief moment, the world seemed to slow down. The gentle raindrops stopping, as the wheels of the car sliced through the puddles.
...
Lumian focused on the tingling sensation, and his thoughts gradually began to become lighter.
After a short while, faint blue particles began drifting from his body. Slowly, they gathered and formed thin, glowing blue lines that stretched forward.
Seeing the direction take shape, Vincent immediately shouted to the driver—
"Left! Quickly!"
Startled, the driver jerked the wheel without hesitation. He hadn't expected his passengers to be sorcerers. In that moment, payment didn't matter. His life did.
...
Still driving, the driver followed their instructions, turning from one road to another until they finally stopped near a tall building—though not directly in front of it, so as not to alert their "host."
Lumian had not stopped the tracking process. Only when Vincent tapped him lightly did he open his eyes in a daze.
Sweat clung to his forehead. He quickly understood the situation, pushed the door open, and stepped out of the car.
The rain poured heavily on them as Vincent approached the driver with a polite smile. "Sir, how much do we owe you?"
The man let out a slightly hysterical chuckle. "Owe me? What transport? Just… have a nice night, handsome lads."
Before they could respond, he slammed the accelerator and drove off.
...
Splash! Whoosh!
The sound of pouring rain and howling winds filled the night as the duo looked at the big, tall building. It was quiet, with long windows stretching upward.
Lumian adjusted the pistol tucked behind his belt. He was uneasy—not because of the fight, but because of the noise it would make if he had to "play" with it in the middle of the night.
Reaching into his pocket, he took out a small pouch of white powder and scattered it around them. Under his breath, he recited a spell.
At the same time, he whispered three phrases:
"What I seek."
"The details of those within."
"Their mood."
His eyes gradually turned ghostly white.
Then suddenly—
Whoosh!
The powder hung in the air for a brief moment before the wind carried it away.
Lumian exhaled, then said. "One... Two... Three. They are at least five people inside. One of them appears to be a fellow sorcerer... At least a phase 9."
...
Vincent chuckled. "Well, we are quite outnumbered. This won't be easy."
He looked at the building and continued,
"But you know we shouldn't keep our host waiting, hehe."
With that, he stepped forward—and suddenly, black feathers shot out, slicing open the door.
...
Crack!
The wooden door split open, revealing four figures seated on a chair, their expressions puzzled.
Without hesitation, Vincent surged forward and threw two quick punches, at one of the men.
Bam! Bam!
Lumian stepped in as well, but before he could fully enter, a man in a brown coat suddenly rushed toward him.
Lumian reacted immediately. He shifted left, pivoted back, drew his gun, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Blood burst from the man's right leg, and he collapsed with a cry of pain.
Another man didn't wait. He charged straight at Lumian.
As he closed the distance, he unleashed a flurry of attacks. Several nearly connected, but Lumian relied on his acrobatics and speed, narrowly dodging each strike.
Frustrated, the man pulled out a gun and fired repeatedly.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Lumian avoided every shot. At times he leapt aside. At times he kicked off the wall to change direction. It almost looked as if he were toying with him.
Soon, the gun clicked empty. Lumian moved in immediately.
Bam!
Using the hilt of his pistol, he struck the man on the head.
The man collapsed to the ground, dazed and motionless.
...
Clank! Clank! Clank!
Hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from the stairs.
A moment later, a man with short hair and a light beard appeared.
He called out quickly, "David, what's wrong?"
But he froze as he took in the scene.
Ahead of him stood a man dressed in a black shirt and trousers, aiming a gun at his head.
To be honest, Lumian wasn't entirely confident about facing him. He had already confirmed the man was the sorcerer—judging from how weak the others had been.
"Please… approach slowly, sir. If not, you're not going to like what I'll do," Lumian said, forcing his voice to sound threatening.
Amidst the tense atmosphere, the man slowly descended the stairs with his hands raised.
"Sir, what do you mean?" he replied calmly. "You barge into my home and act like the police?"
Lumian maintained a straight face. "Sir, I told you to keep quiet."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"It seems you haven't heard of me. I am the one who has killed and has yet to be killed by anyone. I am the embodiment of death… the harbinger of death."
He adjusted his pistol and gave a sly smile.
"Do you really think you can kill death?"
The man tried to process those words as he stepped fully off the stairs.
Vincent, who had just finished dealing with his opponents, chuckled upon hearing Lumian's declaration.
Without warning, the man suddenly lunged forward, But a black feather emerged instantly and pierced straight into his eye.
...
In that instant, the man suddenly stumbled backward, knocking over a candle. It fell onto him, and flames quickly spread across his clothes.
Hahaha! Hahaha!
...
Instead of screaming, he began laughing. A broken and maniacal laughter.
Lumian and Vincent slowly stepped backwards, as they were uncomfortable with the situation of the man.
Could this be the ability of his order? Lumian thought inwardly. I wonder what's the role of the order? It must really be terrifying.
He quickly raised his pistol and fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
White bullets engraved with intricate patterns, shot out and struck the man. However this didn't seem to bring much effect, as he simply stood there unbroken.
Seeing this scene, Lumian Inwardly cursed. "F**kshit! A dead man walking."
Covered in fire, the man suddenly lunged forward and attacked them both.
Bam! Bam!
Lumian and Vincent dodged in opposite directions, avoiding direct contact.
...
Lumian flipped over a fallen chair and kicked off the wall to create distance. Vincent shifted back smoothly, releasing a few black feathers to intercept the incoming strikes.
During this situation, a single thought crossed thier minds.
How do we deal with a fireman like this?
...
Amidst the chaos, Vincent suddenly smiled.
"He looks exhausted," he said calmly. "What if I recite a spell for him? Wouldn't that be considerate?"
Understanding his intent, Lumian immediately adjusted his movement.
The burning man, sensing thier motives, ignored Lumian and charged directly at Vincent.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
A flurry of punches were launched towards him, but Vincent dodged them all with steady precision, all without the slightest of worry.
Suddenly, a television came crashing down on the man's head. Still feeling slightly dazed, he turned left, only to see Lumian.
...
That distraction was enough, and Vincent immediately began to recite his spell:
"Flowers drift with careful care,
Whispers of the night, care to bear,
Gifts of now, care to last, but gifts of tomorrow tend to prosper."
...
As Vincent spoke, the surroundings seemed to shift. It was as though they had been transported to a quiet night garden, where flowers bloomed softly around them. A faint bell chimed in the distance as Vincent held a single black rose in his hand.
He continued calmly,
"Wishes of now, wishes forever still."
The black flowers slowly lifted from the ground, circling gracefully in the air. Then, as if obeying his will, they shot straight toward the man, precise and unstoppable, until nothing remained in their path.
...
As Lumian listened to Vincent's spell, his thoughts gradually cleared, as though he were drifting on a calm ocean. When he opened his eyes, Vincent stood before the four others, a small smile on his face, clearly having already exhausted them.
He looked at them and said with a charming, almost playful smile,
"Kind sirs, sorry for disturbing you and leaving you with this mess. Hehe… I'll clean it up later."
He paused, then asked,
"But you do have something we're looking for, right?"
The man in the brown coat panicked and stammered nervously,
"Of course I do… The text… but it's not with us right now. The boss took it not long ago."
"Are you sure?" Vincent asked.
Like an obedient dog, the man nodded repeatedly. "Yes, handsome sir. Very sure."
Vincent sighed, placing a hand on his face, then asked,
"What's your boss's name?"
The man hesitated, glanced at his subordinates, and finally replied,
"His name… is Lacey."
Hearing that, Lumian thoughts immediately became chaotic. Lacey? Isn't that the Linkton son I've been looking for? I thought he was missing…
Vincent turned to Lumian briefly, then back to the man.
"Where's his room?"
"By the left," the man replied, still trembling.
Without sparing them another glance, Vincent and Lumian walked into the room.
...
Inside, everything seemed ordinary. A simple bed, a window letting in the night breeze, and a desk with a large lamp resting on it. Vincent moved toward the wardrobe, checking each item carefully. Meanwhile, Lumian walked past the desk, and something caught his eye: a letter.
The name written on it made his thoughts even more chaotic.
"The Witches Garden."