Philip had been missing for six months, and Timmy had suffered from insomnia for just as long.
Although many took a pessimistic view of Philip's disappearance, six months was not long enough to declare him legally dead.
Perhaps he had taken on an undercover mission for the police department, or perhaps he had been recruited by a classified state agency and was undergoing sequestered training. There were countless possibilities—all kinds of reasons that might prevent him from contacting the outside world.
These reasons sustained Timmy's fragile nerves, keeping her from collapsing outright and giving her the strength to wait for her boyfriend's return.
She had waited for six whole months.
Insomnia plagued her. Muddled by day and sleepless by night, her wretched mental state had led her company to advise her to resign. She lived alone in a rented apartment, refusing contact with the outside world.
Prolonged sleeplessness had left her nerves raw and hypersensitive; the slightest rustle could jolt her awake from a light slumber. She called out twice, and when no one answered from outside the window, she picked up the bat beside her bed and crept cautiously toward the French window.
There was no one. No one hid along the walls on either side of the window, either—only a wet puddle of water.
Timmy froze, her heart aching for some inexplicable reason. She backed up and sat on the edge of the bed, reflecting on the bizarre sound she had just heard. It seemed to have been her boyfriend's voice.
In her wretched state, she couldn't tell if it had been a dream or an auditory hallucination. Thinking in circles to no avail, she dialed the number of her good friend, Perry.
Perry was Philip's best brother as well as her childhood playmate. Over the past six months, if not for Perry bustling about on her behalf and promising to do everything in his power to find Philip, she seriously doubted she could have endured.
Over that half year, Perry had become the person Timmy trusted most, far surpassing the close female friends who hadn't visited her in ages.
Timmy had even developed a habit: whenever she faced trouble she couldn't resolve, she turned to Perry for help.
***
On the rooftop.
Abo knelt on one knee before Wayne, who was mounted on the undead warhorse, half his body shrouded in mist. Wayne tilted his head to listen and said sinisterly, "Your girlfriend is calling your enemy in the dead of night. Seems our little friend Perry has hidden things very well and won her complete trust...
"So, he's going to confess his feelings tonight, isn't he?"
Abo kept his face taut and remained silent, flames of fury dancing in his ashen-white eyes. Just then, he felt an immense surge of magic pour into his body, instantly moistening his drying-up form.
Abo didn't understand and raised his head in bewilderment.
"What are you standing there for? Go kill him!"
Wayne sneered. "Or do you plan to let him into her apartment? Or perhaps you're willing to set aside your hatred for the sake of love, believing your enemy can take good care of your girlfriend and deciding to bless them?"
Abo shook his head and said tersely, "He isn't worthy."
"I'm starting to take a liking to you. Keep it up, and bring me his head first."
Wayne held his fingers together like a blade, plunging a gray longsword swathed in the aura of death into the ground before Abo. "I don't like dogs who drag their feet. Go and come back quickly. Abin will assist you."
Abo gazed at the longsword before him and reached out to draw it. But as he extended his hand, he caught sight of the police uniform peeking out from beneath the cuff of his trench coat, and he ultimately pulled his hand back.
"Master, I want the law to judge him."
"Is that so..."
Wayne nodded. "That's not out of the question either. But you'd better be mentally prepared. If he could murder his own brother for his master, a loyal dog like him won't be easily abandoned by his master. Are you sure you want to go through the legal process?"
"I am certain. I will investigate everything thoroughly and send him to prison along with the Member of Parliament," Abo said firmly.
"Then go. Don't keep me waiting too long."
Wayne nodded and instructed Abin to lead the way, riding his undead warhorse as he disappeared into the mist.
Only after Wayne departed did Abo let out a long breath of relief. Beside his master, he felt immense pressure every second, fearing that the slightest misstep would reduce his soul to ash.
Abo had always known that Londan harbored strange, eerie forces and that urban legends didn't come from nothing. But he had never imagined the supernatural was this formidable. That he had walked the night streets and survived until half a year ago was practically a miracle.
He stood motionless on the rooftop, watching a pair of headlights approach in the distance. Only when his gaze focused on the driver's face hundreds of meters away did he leap down from the roof.
...
The headlights drew nearer.
Perry gripped the steering wheel, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
The Member of Parliament had once warned him not to wander around Londan at night. Inner Londan was acceptable; he should avoid the West District and North District as much as possible, and under no circumstances set foot in the East District or South District—the less economically developed an area, the more dangerous it was.
The MP had connections higher up, and her intelligence was solid, never groundless nonsense. Perry had kept her warning firmly in mind, rarely venturing out at night after his good brother vanished without explanation.
Yet tonight was different. Timmy had called asking for help; his opportunity had arrived.
Besides, Timmy lived in the West District, which was strictly speaking not an underdeveloped or impoverished area, so it hardly counted as violating the MP's orders.
Perry glanced at the passenger seat, where a blooming rose lay. Its blatant symbolism bolstered his spirits. If the timing was right, he would confess his feelings tonight.
He had even prepared his lines: he would love Timmy double, carrying on his good brother's share as well.
At the thought, the corners of Perry's mouth curled upward uncontrollably. He could already picture himself spending the night at Timmy's place.
After six months, his turn to step in had finally come...
*Bang!*
A loud crash shattered Perry's daydream and dragged him back to reality.
The car seemed to have struck something, splashing a massive wave of water that smeared across the windshield.
Perry slammed on the brakes and hurried out to check on the victim. His career was on the rise; he couldn't let a traffic accident derail his prospects.
Yet there was nothing in front of the car, nor was there any dent in the hood. Apart from water, water was all there was; he hadn't struck anything.
Baffled, Perry got back into the driver's seat and restarted the engine.
Just then, a chilling draft swept over him, and an icy hand clamped onto Perry's neck. His pupils constricted. Without him noticing in the slightest, someone had slipped into the back seat of his car.
Who was it?
A coincidence, or premeditated?
It had to be a coincidence; he had only left after receiving the call, with no prior plans for the evening.
Yet with such skilled technique, this couldn't be an ordinary robber.
In that instant, countless thoughts flashed through Perry's mind. Using his body to shield the movement, he slipped a hand into his coat while maintaining a forced, casual tone: "Buddy, I know the drill. I'll cooperate and hand over the cash. Just let me go, and I won't call the police."
"It's me..."
A flat voice resonated with underlying mockery, making the hairs on Perry's body stand on end. He snapped his eyes toward the rearview mirror and, in the interweaving shadow and light of the back seat, saw a bloodless, pallid face.
The good brother he had murdered with his own two hands had returned.
The horrifying sight shattered Perry's sense of reality. With the freezing hand clamped around his throat, he felt completely suffocated. He tried to calm down, but it was futile, his teeth chattering violently: "Bo, you're back... You... you didn't die! That's... that's so great..."
*Please, please let him be alive.*
"As you can see, I am dead. The waters of the River Thame are cold—especially at the bottom. Summer or winter, it's so cold I can never sleep."
Abo leaned forward, bringing his face close to Perry's terror-stricken visage. "So I came for you. Come down with me. Maybe with two of us, it'll be a little warmer."
*Bang!* A gunshot rang out.
Overcome with sheer terror, Perry fired a bullet point-blank into the head beside him.
Under his horrified, deathly stare, not a single drop of blood leaked from Abo's face. The bullet hole distorting flesh and skin contracted and healed, his deadpan face remaining indifferent. "It's useless. Have you forgotten the cement you poured with your own hands?"
A crushing sensation of suffocation engulfed Perry. He pulled the trigger repeatedly, emptying the magazine in one go. Before losing consciousness, words seemed to echo in his ears:
"I am not like you. I will not murder our childhood memories. The law will punish you..."
"Tell your master this case is far from over. I will keep investigating until I bring you all to justice."
***
Meanwhile, on the other side.
Mounted on the undead warhorse, Wayne moved through the dense, pitch-black fog with Abin's assistance.
As long as he wasn't right in someone's face, he could walk alongside a pedestrian without them noticing him at all.
At the moment, Wayne was in Londan's West District. Speaking of the West District, he immediately recalled the den of the Goddess of the Sun's followers—that gay gym for wrestling and whatnot.
Mentioning the gym made Wayne's mind wander off course, reminding him of that bunch of leering muscular coaches, especially that head coach named Dick.
The old geezer had taken advantage of a young man's respect for the elderly to bully him thoroughly.
Villy had been there at the time, and Wayne hadn't wanted to make her lose face, so he had smiled and brushed it off. But now that the opportunity had presented itself, should he disguise himself as the Death Knight in the flesh and go sign up for a gym membership?
"Wait, why am I thinking about gay men in the middle of the night? Isn't Villy so much better?"
The moment magical girls were mentioned, the skeleton immediately perked up.
Having not seen them for three months, Wayne missed them. He continued to subject himself to a soul-searching question: to whom did that smooth, bouncy touch actually belong?
The skeleton extended a hand and grabbed at the empty air.
Right, and that silly snowy owl—after three months, had Veronica managed to keep it alive or starved it to death?
Suddenly, Wayne realized a problem.
The Death Knight was a lackey of the Goddess of Death. The Goddess of Death and the Goddess of Darkness were allies, and mortal enemies of the three goddesses of Nature, the Sun, and Moonlight. By donning the disguise of the Death Knight, he was effectively standing in opposition to the magical girls and his teacher.
Wayne: ヾ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ
Truth be told, that was pretty amusing.
"Wait, hold up at the subway station ahead."
"Why? Does Master think I'm not as good as a subway?"
"Yeah. You've got no meat on your bones; sitting on you isn't comfortable."
"Master, you don't have any meat either!"
"Shut up. No talking back to me."
...
At the subway entrance, Wayne used Abin's cover to slip into the tunnel hidden within the fog.
The subway had already stopped running for the night. The tunnel was pitch-black and eerily quiet; though devoid of light, it was also free of fog, gathering a massive influx of the four elements that had fled there for refuge.
"Wonderful!"
A sacred cultivation spot acquired.
Pleased as punch, Wayne found a maintenance walkway, sat down, and opened his heart to embrace the four elements throwing themselves into his arms. At the same time, an idea struck him: if the four elements gathered in the subway tunnel, wouldn't the sewers be the same?
The Landau family was so wealthy—had they, just like in Enrold Town, built secret sewers for family members to use?
"I miss the butler again. If only he were here."
***
Dawn broke.
The sun rose as usual, the fog parted by unspoken mutual agreement, and cargo ships docked at the harbor accompanied by seagulls. The streets and alleys of Londan bustled with life once more.
It wasn't just ordinary people who were buzzing—mages were too. While news of the Death Knight's appearance hadn't made the newspapers to become a new urban legend, it had already spread like wildfire through Londan's magical circles.
Xifei had an enormous headache. She had only mentioned it in passing, never expecting the Death Knight to actually arrive in Londan.
A single phone call last night, and before her workday even ended, she had transitioned straight into an all-nighter of overtime.
The good news: she didn't have to remove her makeup only to reapply it, saving plenty of time.
The bad news: the witnesses were dead certain that the Death Knight had really arrived, meaning she wouldn't be removing her makeup today either.
Xifei was going crazy, feeling as if she wouldn't get any sleep for many days to come. The investigation into the Dark Knight had made little progress, and now a Death Knight had appeared. Had those two made a pact to stage some massive crisis in Londan?
She immediately contacted the Church of Nature headquarters to report the crisis confronting Londan. Headquarters took the matter very seriously, dispatching elites from the Scalpel agency into the Great Underground Catacomb of Paris to investigate and verify the Death Knight's whereabouts.
The response they gave was that the Death Knight was still in Paris. Headquarters asked Xifei to double-check whether the intelligence regarding the Death Knight appearing in Londan was reliable.
"How could this happen? Two Death Knights?"
Xifei didn't believe she had received false intelligence, because one of the witnesses was her bastard husband. Although his magical attainments were mediocre, he had deep pockets, extensive connections, and extraordinary insight.
Even if her bastard husband could have been mistaken, the butler Megan never would be. The Death Knight was the real deal, and he had indeed appeared in Londan.
Nor did Xifei doubt the accuracy of the intelligence from Paris. Having once led the Scalpel agency, she trusted her subordinates implicitly; soldiers trained by her own hand would not make such a catastrophic error.
The Death Knight was uniquely exclusive to the Goddess of Death—there was only ever one, and two could not exist at the same time.
Here was the problem: of the two Death Knights, which one was fake?
Xifei leaned toward the Death Knight being in Paris. The Great Underground Catacomb was the Death Knight's home base; without orders from the Goddess of Death, the Death Knight wouldn't just leave home.
From a strategic perspective, the alliance between Darkness and Death had one occupying Paris and the other occupying Londan. Putting them together would only waste resources.
Unless Londan hid something the Goddess of Death cared about so deeply that she wouldn't hesitate to encroach upon her ally's territory.
*Ring, ring, ring—*
The telephone rang, making Xifei shudder. Lately, she had developed a severe phobia of ringing phones.
Every time the phone rang, she suffered palpitations, a racing heart, and chest tightness, wishing she could smash the phone to pieces with a single punch.
Unfortunately, she couldn't!
Xifei unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, fanned herself, and paused for three to five seconds before picking up the receiver with a deadpan expression.
Barring any surprises, another disaster had struck.
How wonderful. She *loved* working. Fulfilling work made her happy!
A moment later, Xifei put down the phone, slumped backward limp into her chair, and let out a dispirited sigh.
Just as she had anticipated, something had indeed happened. Last night, an elemental collapse had occurred at the West District Londan subway station, affecting four surrounding platforms. The mages sent to investigate broke out in a cold sweat upon entering the scene and hurriedly led their team in a retreat, designating the site an elemental forbidden zone.
Frightened out of their wits, they had nearly thought they had walked into a magic-forbidden domain.
Xifei stared blankly at the ceiling, emptying her mind, thinking of nothing at all.
She couldn't understand why the Kingdom of Windsor had always been perfectly fine before, yet the moment she became High Priest, crises large and small erupted one after another.
Had the dragon blood curse erupted?
When unhappy, thinking of someone even unluckier brought happiness.
Xifei thought of Wayne, her little ball of joy. Considering that her laughs for the rest of her life depended on her student, she summoned a messenger pigeon to deliver a message.
Londan was unsafe lately, with both a Death Knight and an elemental forbidden zone. It was terribly unfriendly to a novice mage like Wayne; he should lock himself indoors and go nowhere.
If possible, it wasn't too late to return to Enrold Town right now. The butler wouldn't mind taking care of him for another three months.
Chapter 66