A New Vessel

In the flash of an instant, several scenes flickered through Lynch's mind.

There was yesterday's clash with the elder hillman—a power Lady Red Moon herself had verified as the Authority of the Earth.

Then there was today's meeting with Elder Bru, who had transformed a fresh body into his own likeness, which seemed much more like authority over death.

It was plausible that the earth might encompass authority over death, but it made no sense for Mordiggian to possess authority over the earth.

So who was the true follower of Mordiggian?

Between Bru, the ghoul elder, and his closest neighbor, whom should he trust?

There was no need to hesitate; Lynch had already made his choice. Elder Bru was definitely lying.

Once a single statement proved to be a lie, the credibility of everything else plummeted. His underlying motive in coaxing Lynch to interrupt this ritual was deeply suspicious.

Yet Lynch couldn't simply stand by and watch the ritual reach its conclusion either. What if Bru had lied about only that one detail?

Damn it, how was he supposed to judge this?

Lynch felt as though his head were about to burst, his mind spinning at breakneck speed. Within a matter of seconds, he reached a decision, shifting his gaze from the braziers to the woman lying in the center of the ritual.

Miss Valente.

If he couldn't completely destroy the setup to break the ritual, and couldn't let it continue unchecked, he would pause it and get some straight answers.

Whether in terms of the ritual itself or her connection to the hillmen, this woman had to be of paramount importance. So long as he held her hostage, no one else would dare make a rash move.

And even if things truly went awry, he still had unused trump cards up his sleeve. Yes, exactly. Once he held her under control, everything would become much simpler.

Mind made up, Lynch didn't delay a single moment longer. He slipped through the hole in the roof as nimbly as a cat.

Below, the ritual continued. The white-haired old ghoul seemed to sense something and glanced upward, but quickly resumed his chanting. Apparently, he hadn't spotted him.

Time to move.

Lynch set aside all hesitation and plummeted straight toward the center of the ritual. Mid-air, he adjusted his body into a feline posture, preparing to absorb the impact.

“Ah!”

One of the ghouls seemed to notice the shadow dropping from above and pointed toward the altar with a startled cry. The elder hillman also paused, but whether held back by misgivings or simply failing to react in time, he launched no attack, merely watching Lynch streak through the air.

Bang.

Landing on all fours, Lynch used the momentum to execute a quick succession of rolls before bouncing lightly back to his feet. He lunged right up to Miss Valente at the center of the altar, pinning her shoulder with his left hand while shaking open the serrated blade of his cane with his right, driving it toward her... Wait, what?

The woman, whose eyes had been tightly shut in agony just a moment prior, suddenly snapped her eyes open the instant he touched her! A sudden chill raced down Lynch's spine, cold sweat erupting across his skin.

Without time to think, Lynch shoved down harder with his left hand while accelerating the blade toward her neck. “Don't move!”

Lynch leaned over her, pinning Miss Valente firmly to the floor, on the verge of bringing her under complete control. Miss Valente seemed unable to react, lying motionlessly in place, merely raising her folding fan toward him as if clinging to a last straw, attempting to use it against his threat.

That thing is useless, I—holy crap.

Just as the sharp edge was about to press against Miss Valente's neck, Lynch felt a scorching, ominous aura surge from the folding fan. He felt like a frog pinned under the glare of a snake—impending doom was right before his eyes.

Instinctively trusting his body's warning, Lynch gave up on pinning the woman. He yanked himself backward, his muscles groaning in agony as he twisted out of her line of sight at maximum speed.

“BOOM!”

A gunshot roared.

A burst of flame spurted from the tip of the folding fan, the concussive force instantly sweeping across the area in front of her.

Lynch let out a muffled groan. Ignoring the ringing in his ears, he tossed aside his overly long cane and lunged forward into a tight, full-body grapple with Miss Valente. Wrapping one arm around her from behind, he locked down both her hands holding the folding fan while plunging his other hand into his coat to draw his revolver.

Miss Valente's raw strength wasn't particularly overwhelming, but her body was remarkably agile. Even with Lynch holding her down, a casual twist of her torso allowed her arms to slip free from his grip. She drove her elbow sideways, deflecting the gun Lynch was thrusting toward her, while flipping the folding fan over her shoulder so it pointed directly behind her.

This woman is terrifying!

The corners of Lynch's eyes nearly tore open. He ducked his head, using it to forcefully nudge the fan upward. Another blast roared through the air, sending violent vibrations crashing through his skull along with the sharp stench of scorched hair.

Seizing the split second after the shot, Lynch flipped over and pinned Miss Valente underneath him. He twisted her arm behind her back, forcing her to lose her grip on the fan, and pressed the barrel of his revolver against the back of her head, finally exhaling in relief. “Behave yourself!”

What a fierce woman! Had he not caught her off guard with a surprise attack, she probably would have beaten him to death in a few exchanges. And what on earth was that thing in her hand—a shotgun?! What kind of high-society noble lady carried a concealed shotgun everywhere she went?! Holy crap, yesterday when she pointed that folding fan at him over and over, had she been debating whether to blow his head off?!

Before his heart could even settle, a sudden burst of brilliant light erupted from the woman's body.

【Authority, Protection, Ability, Shield of Piety】

Lynch felt a massive force spring outward from her body. Not only was his gun thrown wide, but his entire body couldn't withstand the repulsive force, flinging him sideways. The hand twisting her wrist slipped away under the pressure, forcing him to let go.

“Hss, ow... my arm!”

The woman rolled to the opposite side to put distance between them, but as soon as she moved, she let out a suppressed cry of pain and clutched her shoulder. Apparently, Lynch's release had been a split second too slow, nearly breaking her arm.

“Ah, sorry, sorry! Is the bone okay? Let me take a look.”

“It's fine, I can still move my arm. It's not a major issue.”

“That's good. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to...”

Before he could finish his sentence, the two caught each other's eyes and froze simultaneously. The next second, both snatched up their respective weapons and aimed them straight at each other's faces.

Damn it, I should've taken the chance to control her! Now I've blown it. What about these ghouls?

Cold sweat drenched Lynch. He quickly scanned his surroundings, discovering the eight ghouls standing in a circle around the barn, staring blankly at the two of them. Yet not a single one made a move to step closer—including the white-haired ghoul.

“Miss Valente, the ritual has been interrupted.” Old Nikolai ignored Lynch entirely, keeping his eyes on the young lady who was rubbing her arm with a pained frown. “Perhaps this is the will of fate. Why don't you reconsider your decision?”

Hss, what is going on here?

Lynch instantly picked up on the anomaly. It seemed the old ghoul hadn't wanted this ritual to succeed either, only carrying it out because Miss Valente had insisted on it. Thinking back, his gaze had swept over Lynch's position twice earlier. Damn it, the old guy probably noticed him long ago! He had been hoping Lynch would disrupt the ritual, which was why he had deliberately ignored him! Tsk, Lynch had still underestimated the perception of these super-experts; if he wanted to launch a surprise attack, he should have activated Divine Authority before taking action.

“Mr. Lynch Levive, aren't you being far too rough?”

Having recognized Lynch by now, Miss Valente sighed and lowered her folding fan.

“Didn't we agree that I would visit you in a couple of days to speak in person? Why did you suddenly break into my family's farmstead?”

Lynch scratched his head and awkwardly stowed his weapon. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to tell the plain truth. There was nothing to hide anyway; since the other party was willing to talk reason, it was better to lay everything out clearly.

The group listened in silence as Lynch recounted his story. When he finished, Miss Valente exchanged a helpless look with Nikolai.

“No wonder. It's understandable, though unfortunate,” Miss Valente said with a shake of her head. “I know you wish to save Reporter Maya. She is indeed an innocent chosen one. So, to demonstrate our sincerity, we intended to resolve her issue first and return her to normal.”

“Hmm?” Lynch frowned.

“Her condition actually involves extremely complex complications. An entity like her must exist, but we have no desire to harm innocent people. Factoring in your request, we decided to hold this ritual to transfer her condition to a new vessel, ensuring she would no longer be dragged into this affair.”

“And what about the new vessel?” Lynch pressed. “Isn't that person innocent too?”

“No. That person is not innocent in the slightest.”

“Who is it?”

“Me.”