Following old Ed's advice, Elias didn't hesitate, quickly putting away the elemental revolver and turning to leave the bathroom filled with blood and the sound of chewing.
He had no desire to stay and watch such a disgusting 'feeding show'; every extra second made him feel nauseous.
He rummaged around and found one of Firth's clean trench coats and a soft felt hat to put on.
He repeatedly checked to ensure no transcendent properties remained on the clothing.
Then, concealing his figure as much as possible, he left.
The lobby of the Bay Hotel was quiet at this hour.
Elias pulled his hat low and wrapped the trench coat tightly around his still-aching chest, walking out of the hotel doors like any ordinary guest without any hindrance.
"Go to the Ascetic Grounds."
A public carriage happened to be waiting at the corner for passengers; Elias walked over quickly and climbed into the cabin.
The driver cracked his whip, and the wheels rolled over the cobblestones with a dull thud.
Sitting in the jolting carriage, Elias looked through the window at the city's night scenery receding behind him.
In the short afternoon since disembarking at Hastings Port, Elias had discovered a deeply ironic fact through his observations.
The common people here had an extremely vague and superficial understanding of the transcendent.
One could even say it was nearly nonexistent.
To the pedestrians on the street, the hotel waiters, and even the port supervisors, supernatural powers were merely legends in religious texts.
They only knew that the church could perform exorcisms or treat hysteria; beyond that, they knew almost nothing.
Leaning against the carriage wall, Elias couldn't help but feel some sympathy for these ordinary people.
Of course, this included the original, ignorant 'Elias Rockland.'
In this somewhat dark and transcendent world, these ignorant commoners who thought the world still operated by common sense were essentially free fodder and mobile sacrifices for cultists and monsters.
Even with an official supernatural organization like the Seventh Agency working in the shadows to maintain the paper-thin balance between the mortal and transcendent worlds.
It was merely a desperate maintenance at best.
No matter how powerful the Seventh Agency was, they couldn't possibly guard every dark corner.
Otherwise, how could an ordinary graduate like his original self, who only wanted to work and study to support his family, be so easily caught up in a fatal supernatural incident?
He had been tricked into going to the island as a disposable resource, dying for no clear reason.
"Yah!"
The driver's shout interrupted Elias's thoughts as the carriage sped through the night.
Although he had already seen the sights of Hastings Port through the original's memories, observing them again now allowed the Elias who had merged two souls to deeply experience a cultural difference and a sense of fragmentation unlike his previous life.
Hastings Port, the largest port in the eastern Kingdom of Velen, was located on the northern side of Moon Bay.
The city's planning perfectly reflected the characteristics of this class-solidified industrial age, artificially divided into the upper district and the lower district by terrain and wealth.
The upper district sat on higher ground, housing majestic government departments like City Hall and the Police Station; its streets were wide and clean, mostly inhabited by the wealthy.
The lower district was closer to the port and the industrial zone, housing the largest banks in Hastings Port and smoke-belching factories, mostly inhabited by workers, fishermen, and laborers.
Most roads in the upper district were paved with smooth stone bricks, while parts of the lower district still had uneven dirt roads.
As luck would have it, the Bay Hotel Elias had just left was situated at the awkward junction between the upper and lower districts.
Currently, the carriage was heading toward the more remote eastern side.
Along the way, the dim gas streetlights on both sides of the road made Elias marvel.
Accustomed to bright electric lights in his previous life, the gas lamps of Velen seemed ridiculously inefficient—their brightness was low, illuminating only a few meters around their base, yet citizens had to pay a high road lamp tax every month.
The carriage turned through several bends, the jolting making Elias's ribs ache again.
Finally, upon reaching a path marked with a sign, Elias pushed open the door and stepped down.
"Six Fenny, if you please."
On the driver's seat, the coachman struck a match, lit a low-quality hand-rolled cigarette, took a deep drag, and held out a rough hand.
Elias fished six coins from his pocket and handed them over, then looked around by the faint light.
The place was so desolate it didn't look like it was within the administrative district of Hastings Port.
"Are you sure this is the place?" Elias asked the driver doubtfully.
"It looks like the middle of nowhere to me."
"Are you blind?" The driver clearly had a bad temper; he pointed impatiently toward the side of the road with the hand holding his cigarette.
Elias turned around.
Beside the weed-choked road stood a wooden sign with three words painted in faded pigment: "Ascetic Grounds."
The small path behind the sign stretched upward into the depths of a thick forest, vanishing into the darkness.
The path was truly small, so narrow it could only accommodate one person passing sideways, with bushes growing thick on both sides.
"Is this it?" Elias froze for a moment, about to complain about the shabbiness of this diocese.
Before Elias could finish his sentence, the driver cracked his whip and drove the carriage away, leaving only the sound of receding hooves.
"Damn it."
Standing before the broken wooden sign, Elias complained to the old guide in his mind.
"This is the Ascetic Grounds? Are you sure we're not in the wrong place?"
"Uh..." In his mind, old Ed clearly hadn't expected the place to look like this, and his tone became somewhat awkward.
"It's not the same place I went to last time."
"What year was your last visit?"
"Fifty-five years ago."
"..." Elias was speechless.
"Did that driver scam me?! Did he just dump me in some random woods?"
"No, the Ascetic Grounds must have moved," Edmond analyzed, attempting to reclaim the honor of an ascetic.
"The places where ascetics practice are generally quiet like this, far from the clamor of the secular world."
"Furthermore..." Edmond paused, speaking with significant intent.
"Did you notice?"
"This location is indeed further east than the old site."
"The east is the direction of the moonrise, closer to the Moon Lord's glory."
"The east is also the direction of the sunrise!" Elias ruthlessly punctured his mystical nonsense, speaking with exasperation.
"What about the Dawn Church? Don't they fight the Ascetic Society for territory?"
"What do you know?" Edmond expressed dissatisfaction at such a remark.
"Once you believe in the Moon Lord, you must align with your fellow ascetics and seek spiritual perfection in silence."
"What does that have to do with what I said about fighting for territory?" Elias countered.
"Can't you understand plain speech?" Edmond seemed to break a little, finding that this kid's focus was always so peculiar.
"It means if the Dawn Church wants it, we move!"
"Ascetics need peace; we don't go around fighting for territory for no reason!"
"Fine, fine, I was the crude one."
"So it's a 'tactical retreat.' I've learned something today." Elias rolled his eyes.
"May the Moon Lord forgive my presumption."
He mimicked a simple prayer, tapping his forehead and drawing a circle on his chest.
This was a simple prayer method old Ed had taught him; one's school of faith could generally be identified by such gestures.
Performing this action served as a sort of self-report.
Immediately after.
Edmond began to shout in his mind.
"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?!"
A loud crack echoed.
Elias gripped the wooden sign that said "Ascetic Grounds" with both hands and, using his legs for leverage, yanked and kicked it out of the soil with a forceful heave.
He looked around and then threw it with all his might, tossing the sign deep into the tall grass in the distance.
"Removing the sign might buy me some time," Elias said matter-of-factly, brushing the dirt off his hands.
"The people from the Seventh Agency have surely visited here many times; this trick is useless," Edmond said, pouring cold water on the idea, thinking the boy was merely burying his head in the sand.
Elias looked silently at the small path hidden behind the bushes leading into the woods, his face full of disdain.
"No matter how many times they've come, they won't find it without the sign!"
"Is this even a road, Old Ed?"
"Even a few cats walking around would have plowed a better path than this!"
Rate on N.U.
