Chapter 123: Beyonder Battle
Vines grew all over the dilapidated garden outside the glass windows.
The river flowed softly, reflecting the stars in the sky as warm glows
suffused out of the nearby buildings.
Everything was silent, as if awaiting the arrival of night.
Trissy, who had ordinary features which combined to make her look
surprisingly beautiful, retracted her gaze and walked quickly towards
the clothes rack to retrieve a long black robe fitted with a hood.
She quickly put the robe on, fastened the buttons and belt before
pulling the hood over her head, transforming herself into an Assassin.
Trissy raised her right hand and swiped her face, immediately turning
her appearance under the hood blurry.
Right on the heels of that, she grabbed a handful of shimmering powder
from the hidden pouch near her waist and scattered it over herself while
reciting an incantation.
Trissy's figure started to disappear bit by bit, her outline vanishing
like how pencil marks were being erased by an eraser.
She silently left the bedroom after completing her concealment spell.
She moved to the opposite room and then opened the non-grilled window.
With a light leap, Trissy stood on the window sill and looked over the
grassy plains to the back of the building. She looked down at the steel
fence that had seemingly fused with the night. There, she saw Corpse
Collector Frye who was silently making his way over the fence.
She took in a deep breath and fluttered down like a feather, stepping
onto the grassy field without a sound.
Frye, who was wearing a black trench coat, cautiously surveyed the
surroundings with his custom revolver in his hand, seeking out vengeful
spirits or evil spirits that might appear.
He could see such entities directly!
Trissy approached Frye silently, made her way behind him. It was unknown
when a dagger smeared with 'black paint' appeared in her hand.
Poof!
She struck quickly, plunging the dagger into Frye's lower back.
But at this moment, the scene in front of her shattered, as if
everything was an illusion.
Trissy realized that she was still standing on the window sill, still
looking over the grassy field and the steel fence.
Except this time around, it wasn't only Corpse Collector Frye who was
standing outside the fence. There was also Leonard Mitchell who was
aiming straight at the window sill, as well as Dunn Smith. The captain
of the Nighthawks was hunched over as he pressed down on his glabella,
his eyes closed as formless ripples spread outwards from him.
Trissy's pupils constricted. She understood that everything that had
happened was just a dream. She had fallen asleep unknowingly!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Leonard and Frye fired three shots, accurately hitting the invisible
target who was still waking up from her reverie.
Crack!
Trissy's figure started to appear, first cracking, then completely
shattering into fragments of a rough silver mirror!
Inside the building, Trissy, who had used a substitution spell, turned
around to escape. She followed the corridor and the steps, sprinting all
the way to the first floor.
Whoosh! A cold sinister wind blew across the first floor, one
that could freeze a person. Formless, transparent figures were numbly
pacing around every corner of the building in a daze.
Trissy, who had lost her concealment, felt her temperature drop every
time she passed through the spirits. She could no longer control her
shivers when she finally reached the sacrificial altar.
The altar was a round table, with a figurine of a deity carved out of
bone placed in the center.
This figurine was about the size of a grown man's head, with only a mere
indication of her eyes, but the figure was that of a beautiful woman.
Her hair extended from her head to her heels, each strand clear and
thick, as if they were poisonous snakes or tentacles.
There was only one eye situated at the tip of every strand of hair, some
closed, others open.
There were many puppets strewn around the figurine. The craftsmanship of
the puppets was crude. Names and relevant information were written on
the puppets; for example, Joyce Mayer.
There were three candles on the table, flickering with a yellowish-green
flame despite the cold, sinister winds.
Trissy bowed at the deity's figurine and quickly recited her
incantations.
She then pushed away the puppets and extinguished the flames of the
candles before picking the figurine up.
Whoosh!
The winds howled fiercely as they shook the closed windows violently.
Clank! Creak! Shards of glass flew around in all directions.
Frye, who had just made his way to the other side of the building,
didn't dare to barge into the sacrificial altar recklessly. He shivered,
feeling his blood turn cold and frosty. It was making his actions
visibly slower.
Suddenly, he felt tightness around his heels as though they had been
grabbed by something invisible.
An accentuated sense of coldness spread upwards from the point of
contact. A Sequence 9 Beyonder would have turned completely numb by now.
But as a Corpse Collector, Frye was no stranger to such situations.
He turned his revolver to the side of his heels and pulled the trigger.
It was as if he could see who the enemy was, and exactly where it was.
Bang!
A silver demon hunting bullet pierced the air, causing a shrill howl in
response.
The formless figure dissipated and Frye regained his ability to move.
Elsewhere, Dunn Smith, who wanted to reach the second floor by avoiding
a frontal assault on the altar, was similarly affected by the cold
winds. His body froze as he stopped right outside a shattered window.
Whoosh! The curtains behind the window lifted suddenly and
engulfed Dunn, as if a monster had just opened its mouth to devour its
prey.
The curtain wrapped around Dunn's head, seeming to have been imbued with
life. Dunn's facial features began to press through the constricting
cloth.
Dunn, who was about to be suffocated, stomped down with both feet. He
straightened his knees and twisted his waist, loosening the curtain's
grip with raw strength alone.
He grabbed a corner of the curtain around his head with his left hand
and yanked it away before tossing it toward the ground.
Bang!
He fired a shot at the other half of the curtain behind the window,
stopping it from attempting another assault on him.
The curtain stopped immediately as a dark red liquid oozed out from it.
Whoosh!
On the field, Leonard Mitchell was reciting his poems and was also hit
by the cold sinister winds infused with the intense sensation of death.
His teeth chattered, making it hard for him to enunciate his poems.
The messy weeds in the garden suddenly extended, wrapping themselves
around his heels. A black shadow hurled itself at him along with the
violent winds.
Leonard, whose body had become rigid, failed to fire in time. He could
only pull back his shoulder and raise his arm.
Thud! The black shadow smashed into his forearm, the thorns on
its body piercing his skin.
It was a pretty, bright-red flower, its origins unknown.
In pain, Leonard tossed aside the flower dyed with his blood.
Bang! He fired a shot at the spreading vines, causing dark red
liquid to ooze out.
Tap! Tap! Tap! Leonard quickened his pace and charged towards
the shattered window on the first floor where the altar was situated
behind.
The vines retracted abruptly from where he had previously stood, as if
hiding from something invisible.
Trissy took advantage of the chaos created by destroying the altar and a
suspension-style ritual to conceal herself once again. She managed to
fool the Spirit Visions of the Nighthawks and escape the pincer attack
before making her way to a spot behind the three Nighthawks.
She extended her right hand, immediately causing a cold wind to blow. It
carried the flower dyed with Leonard's blood right into her palm.
Trissy did not stop. With the flower in hand, she nimbly made her way
over the steel fence and escaped in the direction of the Tussock River.
Leonard, who had just entered the first level, turned his head abruptly,
as though he was listening to something.
His expression changed. He frantically pulled up his sleeve and looked
at the wound caused by the flower.
With his constitution, the wound had already stopped bleeding. There was
only some red swelling that remained.
Leonard's expression became grim. He pinched his left index finger and
pulled his fingernail straight out!
His face contorted in pain, but he did not pause. As he recited
something silently, he sliced open the coagulated wound with the
fingernail. When the fingernail was dyed with his dark red blood, he
pulled out a few strands of hair from his scalp and wrapped the
fingernail with his hair.
Beside the Tussock River, Trissy slowed down. She shot her gaze toward
the flower in her hand.
She was chanting something as a ball of black, illusory fire suddenly
appeared in her palm.
The flames enveloped the flower, burning it to ashes.
After completing this, Trissy jumped into the river and submerged
herself.
At the same time, Leonard tossed the blood-stained fingernail wrapped in
his hair to the corner. He saw it burn and release a foul stench.
The fingernail and hair disappeared quickly, leaving only some dust
behind.
Leonard heaved a sigh of relief. He entered the first level through the
window and said to Dunn and Frye who were destroying the altar, "The
target has escaped. But it's alright, our primary objective was to stop
the ritual."
Dunn sighed and looked at the puppets on the table.
"She was very cautious and very powerful. She sensed us approaching her
ahead of time, otherwise... she should be, at the very least, a Sequence
7 Beyonder.
"Give Klein the signal. Ask him to come over."
Through the brief interaction in the dream, he had determined that the
enemy was female.