[SS] Hazy Silhouette

«I see. I see indeed.»

There was hardly anything to pick up on from Enrico Coppolla’s reaction, did he not only keep his eyes closed, but turn his back towards the other group, solely allowing the men and women of his own to glance at his face. What expression he wore then, however, should remain mystery.

On the next moment’s notice, though, he returned his eyelid concealed gaze towards the others, did that green haired girl who had suddenly forced her way into the talk speak up again.

Her lips forming what appeared to be a proposal to everyone present. And everyone would take it in in their very own way.

The motherly nuns and orphans falling silent, little Bláthín Neve just staring at the girl with a look of exasperation, as though she was close to grabbing her head.

And Coppolla? His talk would speak the truth unique to himself.

«What utter nonsense.

They have gathered in this town, because they wish to slaughter that creature themselves or to acquire another sort of gain from it. That entails that each and every person, no every of those fools who have come to Whitby is solely here to fulfil their very own desires, blinded by whatever ideals they have carved into their souls. Recklessly, selfishly they will chase it, minding neither the means nor the methods and of course not the sacrifice.

And here you stand proposing to such individuals to act as one, to form some sort of alliance?

What naive delusions. What despicable fantasy.»

His tone was sharp, his voice travelling between many intonations, only to resemble a hammer being struck down upon the girl over and over again. It was as though he was fully enjoying himself ridiculing the proposal. A stance shared by his followers, as a nearly unheard rustle wandered through their ranks.

«You agree, don’t you, little girl?»

Bláth held her breath for a moment, hadn’t she expected to be addressed so suddenly, especially by that man of all people. Her frail figure shivered, not only for his invisible glance’s intensity, but for the internal struggle that had even now been going on. She couldn’t stand him, however, she had to somehow make it out of this.

With everyone’s eyes falling onto her, she was pressured to talk. Would her comment serve to bring anything to proceed, though? She hated to admit it, but…

«…he’s right. Working together for the same cause isn’t possible. We, the Anglican Church would never work together with anyone for this goal, because we want to kill that thing head first, for our pride’s sake. The others, well, from what I’ve seen so far…they’re just blind idiots, as he said. They’ll come rushing in, trying to kill that thing not minding the collaterals or whatever.

So we gotta keep as many people out of this as possible and work with no one. If we kill it first that’s the best course…»

Crushing the hopes of other people truly wasn’t her thing. She hated to be this kind of person, was she someone filled with hopes and dreams herself, yet she was forced to right here, even though she would have preferred to do it outside that man’s view.

She took a deep breath.

«Besides…we’re on our way to treat the injured. So sorry, we can’t really throw away more time for some nonsense.»

No excuses to be made. There were matters more pressing than anything up on their plate right now. That went for that girl’s proposal and even more so for that cardinal, whom she dedicated that bitey comment to, blocking their path right here.


Yet, just when she thought to have delivered the closing words to this short intermezzo, that self loving holy man felt the urge to put something on top.

«I agree. That vampire? Me, like that lowly scum? How disrespectful. No, how insulting.

Why should I care about that lowly fiend? If I come across it, I will slay it, that is all there is.

And while I do, I will claim the heads of all those aiming to do the same. Heathen is heathen. Pagan is pagan. To each death shall be served, indiscriminately. That is the Lord’s will.

Amen.»

«««Amen»»»

These gloomy nuns’ and priests’ voices would serve as an echo to his speech’s conclusion, expressing their alignment to the belief he’d just announced.

That was all there was about them.

They had come to kill. However their prey hadn’t been limited to the rumoured demon.

Truthfully, spilt blood was their eternal company.

The young knight had avoided so far to say anything more than was needed and stood there stoically watching as the events unfold. When the green hair girl spoke about her proposal, Alexander saw the next step forward. And in some way, the obtuse Cardinal and the little girl from the Anglican church had only further confirmed his decision.

"Well forgive me for saying this Cardinal, but I don't agree with what you're saying here. While I also have my own pride, it hasn't done me any good since arriving in this town. My job is to secure this town and neutralise the threat. So I hope you appreciate we both are busy tonight." Alexander said who had initially come to this town to tackle the vampire incident together with other groups. He didn't research the topic beforehand not to take the threat seriously, and it didn't matter how big the Cardinal britches were not even they can kill a vampire so easily.

But that's the thing; Alexander didn't care who killed the damn vampire. If killing the vampire is what is even required, the important thing here was to neutralise the threat to Whitby and the country. No matter what it takes and sometimes that requires resetting your priorities.

Even if it hurts his pride

"So Cardinal Coppolla, let me help you with what I know so we both can get on with our business. The one you seem to be looking for was last seen in a ruined warehouse near the industrial area. So probably about ten or twenty minutes behind us will be a roundabout, from there go left onto Copper Street than it's just straight down the road and you will eventually find it. I will have you know though this was an hour ago, so I can't promise you she will be there or not. But the very least you might pick up her trail there." Alexander said without breaking his stoic expression, the very least the nun was of the Catholic church and this seemed like an internal matter so he had no intention of getting involved further.

"So now I've shared what I know, you don't mind if I carried on? Matthewson, York, Sanson, and Wortham." Alexander said who believed there was no longer time to dilly-dally.

"Sir Matthewson and Sir Sanson continue with escorting the children. Contact me when they're safe or if anything happens. Sir York and Sir Wortham, you will be coming with me as we now have a different escorting mission to attend. " Alexander said confidently as he turned towards the green hair girl.

"If that is OK with you, My Lady?" Alexander said accepting her proposal who all the while had activated his communication talisman in his armour. This was done upon the moment he called on his fellow knights so Moore would stay informed of the change of plans. But also he whispered silently that only Moore could hear his next words. "Cardinal Enrico Coppolla of the Roman Catholic Church. Hes standing right before me."

Of course that would be their response.  Two major forces, among many, whose core desires might as well be night and day.  To some, it is no surprise that, despite their posturing, they have not made any progress.  Thought perhaps that could be said of all present?  But to dismiss it because of the source would be bias.  Even a green researcher could stumble on the truth the experts could not see.

"Sir Matthewson and Sir Sanson continue with escorting the children. Contact me when they're safe or if anything happens. Sir York and Sir Wortham, you will be coming with me as we now have a different escorting mission to attend.  If that is OK with you, My Lady?"

Well, it seems that the whole situation between them and Longroad seemed to have left an impression.  At least someone present was willing to hear reason.

"Thank you."  She said, nodding to him.  With that, she looked to the Cardinal and then to Blathin with a curious look.  What would they think of this?  Certainly, this man, Coppolla, was behind the threats earlier by sending a priest, but what would he do now?  Blathin, being a supposed speaker for those present, would want things to end by her own standards.  Would they allow the four of them to leave?

"Well, I apologize if my proposal doesn't suit you; I understand that the both of you have your own ideas about this matter.  I'll propose this, then.  Those willing to come with me can do so.  I sadly can't promise protection, but a possible solution.  If the vampire threat is dealt with, real or imaginary, a lot of the chaos and trouble this city is facing would dimish or very well dissipate.  If we fail, well, the rest of you will know what to do, I'm sure.  Still, thanks for listening, I certainly did interrupt."  She would give a slight bow to both the Cardinal and Blathin, as some form of respect and a way to note her exit of sorts.  With that she turned back to Alex.  "With that, well, I'm ready when you are.  Lets see if this lead is fruitful."

No traces of independent thought could be seen in the figures of the four knights who stoically followed Beathen’s orders.

It was not their job to question their superiors. They were the swords and shields of the country, and tools did not decide how they were to be used. Following their commands to the greatest extent possible was their greatest honor.

But despite that, they were still humans with human hearts. The larger a group they were a part of the more they suppressed that human side of themselves, but it was not something that could ever be fully extinguished.

Currently, they were a unit of only five, and soon they would be split further into units of two and three. And for York and Wortham especially, the audience their show of solidarity was intended for would disappear.

It was the same principle as to how a crowd may appear to be an emotionless mass, but picking just a few individuals out of it will reveal a surprising degree of color. And now that they had split so far, colors such as worry, anger, apprehension, and more began to appear in their eyes.

""""Sir!"""" Wary of the many clergymen watching over them, it spread no further than that for now as they gave a softーout of consideration for the children and late hourーbut firm affirmation that they had received their orders.

But inwardly, they itched with a strong sense of impatience. Once those ill-mannered priests left and they set off once more, those knights who had not even had the opportunity to give their names would finally be given the chance to speak.

---

“You can’t even see the sky... Damn haze.”

A good night’s sleep was the cure to all ills, it was said. Barring that, even simple rest provides a wealth of benefits.

To those knights who had escaped that fiery battlefield with their lives intact, it was just what they needed to recover from their ordeal. And if they were to continue their duties as normal from thereon, it was a necessity.

“Even if it’s just five feet in front of me… I can’t see a thing.”

But some people are just hopelessly foolish. Not even God can save the unwilling. Having unwittingly made himself a prime example of that truth, Moore wandered aimlessly through the streets of Whitby seeking to put his mind back in order.

He had slipped away from his compatriots, saying that idle hands are the devil’s plaything, but that was an excuse. Or, if the doubt and uncertainty plaguing his heart were actually that fiend’s work, perhaps the ungarnished truth.

“Goddammit. What am I supposed to do next?”

“What’s happening here. Who my allies are. Who my enemies are.”

“I think and think and think, but this damn haze just won’t…!”

Before Longroad and his subordinates, Moore had steeled himself to act upon his convictions. For better or for worse, they were the sole compass he possessed to navigate that battlefield where martial power held no meaning.

But now there was no enemy for him to face, and no allies in sight. Nothing but haze.

Moore had ventured out into the streets in hopes of curing his restlessness by moving his body. In the past that method had worked well for him, but in this instance it had proved to be a better poison than it was a cure.

Without any sense of direction, he and his thoughts wandered aimlessly through the haze, gradually losing both form and coherence, untilー

“…-atthewson, York, Sanson, and Wortham."

ーa sudden transmission cut sharply into his stupor.

“...Hm?”

After a short start of surprise, he listened in curiously to the message. The voice was Beathen’s, but he was not speaking to Moore. In other words, this was something he wanted Moore to hear, but he didn’t have the luxury of speaking to him directly at the moment.

So the boy’s decided to skip out on the nuns. Well, if it's him, I'm sure there's a worthy reason.

Moore refrained from speaking, aware that anything he said would not receive a response. The best thing to do here was wait until Beathen spoke to him himself, to ensure that he didn’t disturb whatever it was he was doing.

But even as he exercised that restraint, he felt the stupor leave him. Whatever was happening hereーhe didn’t know whatーhe was sure of one thing: that this was the direction he had been lacking, and he had to be sure to grasp hold of it. If he failed he would once again be set adrift, and only God knew if he would ever receive an opportunity again.

"Cardinal Enrico Coppolla of the Roman Catholic Church. He’s standing right before me."

“A Prince of the Church?!”

He didn’t even attempt to hide his surprise. A cardinal was an extremely high-ranking member of the Church. To be precise, they were the respected few who held the privilege of electing the new pope in the case that the seat becomes vacant.

For one to have appeared here illustrated the value and the threat that even the possibility of a vampire presented in a way that little else could.

“Beathen. Explain immediately; what’s happening over there?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sara could only just respond awkwardly to Sasha’s interjection about the coffee. The small girl had quite the sharp tongue and just felt to be in another world from Sara. This whole group just felt to worlds apart from her in some way or another.

At least, that’s how she was feeling when she heard something from Vasilisa that made her ears perk up. “Goth loli?” Sara undressed and redressed Sasha in her mind. After letting her mind scan all over the image of Sasha in Gothic Lolita twice, she nodded with a smile. “That’d look pretty cute, actually.”

Sipping her sweet tea, she had to wonder if Sasha was super attached her absurd outfit. She seemed to be cutting out any suggestions, even a more conservative outfit like Gothic Lolita style. Hell, even a goth loli girl with various instruments of torture held its own gap charm.

“Such a shame, though,” she muttered, bemoaning the shut down of such a wonderful possibility.

"Ah, but you're just as bad, Sara-chan. I was just getting fired up for some girls' talk, but you're just trying to dredge that musty old thing back up again! A girl like you should be doing better things with your time, like trying out cute clothes, or chatting about that boy you like... Oh! Hey, hey, who do you like?"

The sip of tea she was swallowing ended up flowing down the wrong tube as she found herself unconsciously inhaling at the sound of those last four words.

*HacK-CoUGh*

Quickly, she placed the tea down, picked up a napkin and began to cough repeatedly until she felt the tea come up through her nose and she could breathe normally again. Taking a moment to fold up the napkin and lay it down she took a few deep breaths before looking at Vasilisa with a look of complete confusion.

While taking a few seconds to regain her bearings, she steeled herself and decided to roll with Vasilisa’s whims since trying to break the flow was getting her nowhere.

She genuinely thought about all of the male figures in her life.

No. No. No. No. Maybe—nah.

“Honestly, I can’t say there is anyone,” Sara said, picking up her cup of tea again. That would likely be a conversation stopper, so she decided to shift the topic to something within reasonable limits. “That being said, I couldn’t help but hear you wanted to put Miss Sasha in a goth loli outfit.” She was hardly calling Vasilisa out for her strange desires. After all, they shared some overlap. “I’d love to see and possibly try that myself.”

Sasha quietly let one hand fall away from her teacup to her side, where she gripped one of the tools which hung from her waist. She was now ready to escape in full Annihilatus style at any moment.

She lacked the tension that would accompany readiness for such a burst of activity, but that action of hers was already enough for the other long suffering Annihilatus members to understand her intent and prepare themselves to clear a path if necessary.

Whether Sara, the cause of this, would be able to discern that from her considerably more lacking frame of reference was another question entirely, however.

"...My first interjection: that is unaccepta- impossible." She brushed off her mistake with a light pause and continued. "It is difficult to believe that someone of your age has never thought about it once, so please do not attempt to change the topic."

"That's right, that's right, Sasha-chan! Oh, you do get it!" Dangerous looking stars began circling within Vasilisa's eyes.

If Sara had been a practitioner of astrology, then she would have made a Sasha-esque attempt to flee right there, but unfortunately, Longroad had not equipped her with the knowledge necessary to survive this mission.

"A cute girl like Sara-chan, having nothing to do with romance? Why, that's criminal! It's just a complete waste! We can dress Sasha-chan up later, but right now, we have to fix this!"

A slight hint of despair crept into Sasha's eyes as her misdirection failed to do anything but buy time, but it passed unnoticed.

"So come on, tell us everything. Spill all your maidenly fantasies to this Vasilisa here!"

Just like before, not a single word was spoken by that girl.

Not even opening her mouth to set her tongue and lips into motion, she simply gave a short nod in reply to Erin’s latter request, seemingly not paying the rest of it any heed or possibly pushing it aside for later.

They needed to hurry.

She didn’t say it, but her glance was enough to communicate the intent.

Not waiting and longer she began moving, taking a rather unexpected path, the one straight towards the alley’s single exit leading into the streets where just a moment ago the pursuers had passed by. With her hand she singed for the girl to stay close to her. However that wasn’t all: On first notice it may have seemed as though she was bluntly moving out into the open, yet on second glance she still kept close to the shadows thrown about by the sparsely lit sources of light, pairing it with the mystifying shroud that was the haze.

And it seemed that was all it took for her to feel safe. So safe, there was not a single sign of worry, neither on her pale face nor anywhere in her posture.

Just like that they would pass through the city’s streets, following a path guided by haze and shadow, surprisingly not invoking any attention at all.

Those eyes were everywhere. Figures wandering through the hazy night, their eyes seeking out the presence of their prey and yet even if they turned their way, none did seem notice. It was as though those two had become truly invisible…


Showing the first set of scribbles in her typical archaic overly fine tuned high level calligraphy handwriting, the shadow walker finally engaged into conversation, once again underlining the odd feeling of safety that had come over them, even though they were still apparently moving out in the open.


Tension grew visible on her face as she presented the next set of sentences, before quickly returning to rushing the pen all over again. While it had been a miracle of itself that she was somehow capable of walking forwards in fast paced manner and writing that perfectly at the same time, time and the circumstances didn’t allow for any celebration of that.

It was probably for the best to avoid attention while cloaked under whatever this was, so she didn't reply using her voice anymore. She got out one of her many notepads, and began to write down her own response, albeit in not so archaic a style as Millinda's. She tore out the pages and silently handed them over to her companion.

「Everyone here has an agenda. It is difficult to be betrayed
when one has no expectation of trust to begin with.
All I can do is maneuver in the space afforded to me.」

Then came the next few notes; the most important ones, as she stopped dead in her tracks. She wouldn't budge until a response was delivered.

「Even you were here before I arrived.
Before you knew of my existence, you came here.
Even after I rescued you, you remained.
Yet you do not tell me why.
And my help is still implicitly expected.」

「Before I take a single step forward.
I implore you.
What are you doing here?
What are you trying to accomplish?
It is hard to believe that you are helping me purely for my own sake.
I cannot and will not help unless you're honest.
It is something to do with your husband, is it not?」

Erin's eyes reflected a will of iron. Even in the face of this inexplicable rescue, she had to put her foot down here and now. No more mystery. No more vagueness. Things had gotten too dangerous now for her to keep being led along like a lost lamb. If Millinda wanted something, she had to come out and ask for it. No games. No lies. It would take the blindest of people to not see all of this in her eyes, should they choose to look.

Delight, only for a second, was what appeared on the crimson cardinal’s face, before it disappeared yet again. He turned on his heel, this time simply stepping past the knights and that green haired maiden. His men following suit immediately.

«Reason is lost with you lot, I see.»

That was the conclusion he had arrived at, representing their entire side, as none of the others dared to open their mouths for objection. They simply followed them like the sheep the shepherd. The blinded believers way? Or maybe the way of those who actually aligned in such a close way that no opposing opinion would ever form among their ranks. Whichever it was, just like that the dozen of priests and nuns would move along the road, aiming for a new destination. Or so it should have been.

Just about the final moment of it all, suddenly Coppolla in his fine horseman boots ceased motion.

«As gratitude for your cooperation, Sir knight, allow me to impart one final piece of wisdom upon you and your comrades. This town is lost. Slaying that beast will no longer be sufficient to change its state. That is how far everything has gone. Or do you hear any talk about a vampire anywhere anymore?»

His final words were mystifying, yet straight to the point.

Had there truly been a shift in interests from all sides? Or had something else simply taken over the visitors’ minds? Whichever it had been, what could the meaning of all that be?

Before there were any further inquiries, the Roman Catholic Church’s inquisitors moved on.

In their lead that man torn between wisdom and madness…

The first to heave a sigh of relief, was Bláthín Neve, who somehow had ended up the sole lead of the convoy, now that the knights basically had decided to jump ship. A turn of events she couldn’t help but feel bitter about, especially considering the differences in priorities.

However she couldn’t really stop them, could she? There no longer was anything like an alliance and with this turn that had been sealed entirely. She understood as well.

«I can’t believe this is it, really now? What happened to protecting the children and all that? Aww, well, not that it matters really…»

Once again the little fairy girl found herself in need of letting some steam off, however the time was hardly right. She’d cast a glance towards Sister Celine, who simply nodded whilst wearing that kindest smile of the world.

«I guess, I can’t really stop any of you. So go ahead with whatever. I said it before, but for my…or rather our…side: We’re not interested. There’s things we have to attend and things we have to do ourselves. Besides forming a coalition force with them, nah, that train is gone. We gotta do our own business and so do you.»

Her initial wish may have been different, yet with how everything had gone tonight this was the sole reality their group would accept. A sign of maturity or some stubbornness born from pent up frustration? Whichever, whichever. Did it matter?

Still…

She cast a glance across the children, the nuns and the two knights to remain with them. Their group had grown weak, time had slipped their hands and the developments didn’t seem to go in their favour at all. They may have escaped a potential big threat, yet even that wasn’t entirely fortunate looking at how it went…

She couldn’t help it, really.

«Then that’s…goodbye!»

Waving her tiny hand all the while gritting her teeth in grief, she spoke the words of departure and separation.

Only for the entirety of her group to entirely disappear into the haze’s shroud a blink of the others’ eyes later.

Which left only the knights and herself.  It seemed that this was all she could muster up against the two sides' stubbornness.

"One thing they both do not realize; forgetting them only escalates the problem.  Every night someone dies, more outrage is sparked.  Imagine if the vampire killed someone from the church or one of the cabals?  It would likely start a war."  Certainly, the thought of it was not very pleasant, and that showed up on her face.  "But they aren't entirely wrong; this has become more than just the vampire, as so many parties have come here to stake claim and have butted heads."

The haze of the night had certainly become thicker; perhaps in preparation of this moment?  Which caused its own questions: from where did the haze even originate?  Were the two really linked?  Those questions would be answered if only they could get to their destination.

With that in mind, she pulled the hair from her finger she had for this entire moment.  The vision of that road overlooking the city of Whitby ended in an instant.  It was risky, but at this moment, the choice was obvious.  The real exit to the maze was not there, but here, where if once the threat was defeated, the maze walls would vanish entirely.

"I will return here, and then we can flee this place together..."  She plucked another hair from her head, creating the same spell in front of the knights.

"This haze is thick.  I have a feeling that it will attempt to trick us.  I've made a way so I can return here if we get separated.  I imagine you have your own methods?  If not, I can do this for you.  Is likely stronger that way."

With that, she had seemingly caught herself for a moment.  Perhaps her concerns over the city had taken over her own manners.

"Ah, I haven't introduced myself yet, have I?  I'm Albrekka Starbright, I'm in your care."  She would make a light bow to the knights as some form of respect.  Any ally in this situation should be treated with care, after all.

Alexander remained stoic throughout the entire exchanged, remaining confident and seemingly unfazed about what had just occurred. But this just an act to not lose face in front of someone who seemed dangerous. Any Prince of the Church was someone you shouldn't easily underestimate, and Alexander had no intention of poking any dangerous bear within this haze.

And besides other than knowing this man was a cardinal, the young Knight had no sufficient knowledge of how dangerous this Cardinal was, but it wasn't hard to guess from his presence alone. But that wasn't enough for Alexander, the lack of knowledge on what the Cardinal can do and that joker frustrated him. But the decision to leave the kids alone was also a tough decision.

Alexander felt obliged to see those kids get somewhere safe, that was something he felt was owned to honour those children who died. Sure the Anglican Church probably could handle it, but they had a lot of investment in seeing those children safe and yet he had made a decision. This entire time he wanted to build a bridge with others to solve the problem that faced the town.

And then suddenly as he struggled to do that someone offered that chance. And it wasn't any major group or organisation but in the form of one person.

Albrekka Starbright.

He had to take a leap of faith.

The very least he didn't leave the children completely alone with the Anglican Church. He left two of the knights to go with them, so in some way, he was fulfilling his obligation just barely.

"The Cardinal has left towards the warehouse from earlier, planning to chase his Catholic nun. Though I last saw her with Mark space, so I'm not worried about him finding what he seeks." Alexander had said while treading back on old news for those around him, but that was meant for Sir Moore. He had no real-time to actually give a full report, but he hoped that was enough and for now planned to keep the connection open.

"Whatever this is here, that's happening in this town." Alexander shook his head before he continued. "There is nothing more important to me than stopping these murders and make sure everyone in Whitby is safe... " Alexander paused for a moment before continuing. "I'm taking a leap of faith with you Albrekka Starbright and I know this can be perceived as unpopular. But we stand here as equals for that singular purpose to put an end to this puzzle that plagues Whitby. So if you have any doubts, it would be best now to speak freely. As I will not force you to do anything that you don't believe in." Alexander spoke as if those words were solely for the knights beside him. He was not Sir Moore, their leadership styles were completely different and it was about time to make that abundantly clear. The young Knight had no desire to lead those who didn't believe in his decisions and he had no idea what they felt about the undertaking they were about to go on. If they were going to work as a team, this small group had to be honest with each other.

Even with a magician.

"And if not, then we shouldn't allow this lady prove she has more manners than us gentleman and actually introduce ourselves." Alexander said turning to Albrekka. "Sir Alexander Beathen, but you can just call me Alex as I know not everyone is comfortable with formality. And yes, we should use your method. And these are..." Alexander introduced himself and indicated for his fellow knights to do the same unless they had anything else to say.

More than anything, what Moore was lacking was a clear direction. Whether it was knowledge of the situation, the ability to handle it, or anything else, everything but direction was completely secondary.

Even if he had no idea what lied before him, no clue who his allies were, and his enemies completely eluded him, so long as he had a direction to run in he could progress despite all that.

But up until now, he had only been wandering in the fog, led along by others. Starting from that mistake in the police station, Longroad, Ambroise and who knows who else had simply strung him up and had him run in circles with no clear destination.

"The Cardinal has left towards the warehouse from earlier, planning to chase his Catholic nun. Though I last saw her with Mark Space, so I'm not worried about him finding what he seeks."

Even after he had been set free, running aimlessly was all he could do. That was why Alexander's sudden transmission had been none other than a gift from the heavens. A variety of divine inspiration.

"...I see."

His voice was quiet, but his body was already in motion. This was a chance he couldn't afford to miss.

Moore was not desperately reaching for the first opportunity he saw. He was not running with that sort of motivation. Already, his figure was filled with a sense of purpose he had lacked until this point.

Simply, he had made a decision, found a direction, and was now preparing to put his everything to following through with it. He had decided that the time for waiting was over.

"Beathen, until you receive further orders, maintain your autonomy. However."

A short crack in the feed. The recipient was not Beathen, but every knight in Whitby.

"Absolutely do not cross the Roman Catholics."

---

He stood in the same position as he had before, at the very end. When he had been left with nothing but a final desperate throw of his spear.

But instead of a weapon, what his hands held was his helm. Instead of facing towards the center of the warehouse where scorch marks still remained, Moore looked in the direction of one of the entrances, waiting.

"...There's no point in looking back now."

Words like 'ally' and 'enemy' had already lost meaning. In the haze, worrying about such trivialities only meant you were already lost. Moore had made a fine example out of himself in that regard.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Cardinal. I am Henry Moore, leader of the unit of knights stationed here in Whitby."

As a dull red entered his gaze, Moore could feel himself finally moving forward.

---

"And if not, then we shouldn't allow this lady prove she has more manners than us gentleman and actually introduce ourselves."

"True! How admirably true, Sir Beathen! Well then, milady, allow me to do the favor of introducing myself. I am Sir Evan York, but it's perfectly fine if you just call me Evan!"

"...Feel free to ignore this one. There's little point in listening to him. My name is Sir Van Wortham. A pleasure."

Upon Alexander's words, the two who had previously been so stoic as to give the impression they were mechanical dolls sprung to life.

Evan, with his flowing blond hair, kind blue eyes, and lithe figure seemed like he would fit perfectly upon a white steed, but the impression was ruined by a frivolous and somewhat sleazy smile.

Van, on the other hand, was built large with a somewhat dumb-looking face, and spoke in a slow, deliberate fashion. But his gaze as he looked at Evan was a half and half of exasperation and disdain.

"Ah! That hurts, Sir Wortham, that really hurts. It really does~! Why, Ms. Starbright, feel free to ignore him instead. Just like he looks he's a bit slow on the uptake, but oddly enough his mouth moves quite a bit faster than his head!"

There was clear and genuine ill-will between the two, but at the same time there was a tacit understanding. That there were things that came before even the most irreconcilable of differences. It was what made them Knights.

And because they both held that at their core despite their mutual dislike, the same thoughts had gone through both their minds.

"...Since you gave us permission, I'll speak. Sir Beathen, you-"

"Slow! Hey, since we're both going to say the same thing anyway, do you mind if I just say it?"

Obviously displeased, Van prepared to voice his disapproval, but it was as Evan had said. They were both going to say the same thing. In that case, arguing would only pointlessly waste time. Having come to that conclusion, he instead released a deep sigh suitable for someone of his size and gave his assent.

"Cool! Well then, Sir Beathen. Slaying that vampire and all is important, I knowーreally, really, really important, I mean, it's a vampire, how could we not slay it, we're in England of all places, like hell we're going to let someone do our awesome job for usーbut. Was that really okay? I mean, I know you left Sirs Sanson and Matthewson with them, but."

"...The fog is dangerous. We realize that you must have put the proper thought into the decision, but you are the one who told us to speak."

Evan's roundabout manner of speaking had left Van the impatient one this time, leading him to finish the statement Evan had taken so long to get to despite speaking at such a pace. He received a glare for his effort, but the deed was done.

Slaying the vampire and protecting the weak. Both were duties of the knights, but when split between the two, it was only natural for insecurity to brew even in the most stalwart of hearts.

---

Meanwhile, with Sirs Sanson and Matthewson, no such heartfelt talk was occurring.

Though their group was even smaller than the other, their company was different as well. Instead of an unaffiliated magician, they were escorting the members of the Anglican Church whom they had just fallen out with.

Even without any kind of ill will, it was only natural to have one's guard up in such a situation.

But even so, the ones they were guarding were not murderers cloaked in the scent of blood like most of Necessarius' evils. Matthewson's eyes particularly flitted from one section of the group to the next, filled with a resolve to protect.

There were the children, completely innocent. The nuns, filled with good will.

And then, there was Bláthín.

"...Kind of a kill-joy, that last one."

So spoke Matthewson, letting his 'honest' impression slip.

In response Sanson wordlessly unleashed a high level technique that allowed him to elbow his companion in the side even through his armor, all without making a ruckus like someone had dropped their prized tin can collection.

Such was Bláthín Neve's first encounter with the miscreant duo of knights, who frequently bragged that they could distract even the most tearful of children from their worries. Even if only for a short while.

“Maidenly fantasies…?” Sara let her voice trail off as she listened to Vasilisa’s almost sing-songy push to keep on talking about romance. She was hardly experienced in that field and barring what she had read from a few trashy romance novels she may have seen laying around (if that even counted for anything), she could hardly say she understood anything about it.

Fantasies.

That word continued to bounce around in her brain for a bit while nothing substantial in terms of romance came about. She took another sip of her tea and placed it on the table.

What are my fantasies?

Her mind drifted to an image of herself standing on top of a mountain and staring off into the sunset. A nice sense of accomplishment from reaching the summit was permeating through her and her mind was already drifting into scoping the next target to be conquered. The next limit to travel to.

And in her hand was the hand of—

The image shattered and the girl started to blush—no, the as the blush that had been growing in the past few seconds reached a local peak redness.

“Was that--?”

Now, Sara was hardly a dense girl. She may not have been the most romantically in-tune girl but she could hardly be called dense.

She knew exactly what she saw in her fantasies.

“Rugged but not messy. Athletic but not super muscular.” Was she even aware of what she was audibly muttering? Probably not. “A perfect traveling partner. Someone who enjoys the rush of a travel plan thrown out of order...”

With a single exhale, she immediately realized that she had just spilled her fantasies uncontrollably. Embarrassed, the blush only brightened and heat ran through her cheeks as her eyes came to meet with Vasilisa’s.

Her hands flew around as she tried to wave off, symbolically the topic. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting the perfect guy to share a view or a travel experience with! Don’t judge me!”

«Nobody's judging you. A lone journey is not half as fruitful as one with someone special by your side. What intriguing romanticism, Sara-chan~»

The voice didn’t just appear from nowhere, it was as though it spoke directly into her ear from up close.

Hold on.

That was exactly what happened.

From one moment to the other he had appeared. That man, rugged but not messy, athletic yet not muscular, clad in his colourful handwoven poncho weary of many journeys. He wore a priest’s robe underneath, sturdy boots on his feet and a military style hat on top of his messy black hair. Grinning in soft amusement, Richmond Longroad revealed his presence.

«Sorry sorry. I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your girls’ talk. Business turned a bit more urgent, though, and I could no longer wait.»

He announced, not minding the fact that he had invaded another faction’s territory so sneakily. Yet what other choice had they left him? The commotion had grown quite wild and so out of control, nobody had noticed when he had casually entered, exploiting it seemed like the sole right path to take!

«It’s a shame, though. I think a goth loli outfit would’ve suited our Sara-chan quite well~!»

Devoid of any serious intonation, just as he usually was, Longroad didn’t show any of the urge he had mentioned when explaining his sudden intrusion. Simply turning himself into the center point of the conversation, he finally walked past his underling, aiming straight for the truly relevant person here, the landlord…or in this case the leader of the freeloaders.

When did, suddenly the intonation of his voice sank, tipping over and sinking the atmosphere entirely.

«We need to talk urgently. Things have moved in an unpleasant direction and due to some fuck up we’re kinda short on hands.»

Ever moving, the situation of Whitby seemed to be growing even direr by the moment. He didn’t need to overdramatise, yet he still did, attempting to sell his point the most convincing way, just like a journalist would.

Carelessly throwing his butt onto one of the restaurant’s benches, his eyes immediately darted towards Vasilisa.

«Let’s talk about an alliance and the evacuation of Whitby.»

What would happen from now on? Where would things head?

She could no longer tell. Even if she had acted like a hard boiled witch hunter just a moment ago, once Sir Beathen and that green haired girl had left her sight, she had immediately grown back into the weak little girl she actually was. She was fighting it, though, for the sake to at least keep her calm in the presence of the remaining knights. Something she considered necessary, especially under current circumstances.

«…Kind of a kill-joy, that last one.»

However she hadn’t expected this.

This entire time she had seen them all as the ice-cold warriors, hardened by a thousand wars, years of training and an elitist upbringing; the type to jump at your throat for any flaw in countenance or etiquette. Yet when suddenly that half serious comment had come up and the elbowing war begun, she felt as though her last portion of prejudice had been blown away.

«Y-you have no idea!»

Struggling to actually join in on the casual talk that hardly felt natural to her after all that had been going on, the exhibitionist fairy girl tried to integrate her for whatever dumb reason.

«If you would’ve seen the files Longroad assembled about that fella even you knights would have pissed your pants!»

Implying how great a deed her brave act before had been, she would knock her own chest in accordance to the words. This act of mocking them, however, was hardly serious, did she attempt to join in on the casual funny talk in her most natural manner. She could feel it lightening the burden resting both on her and their shoulders, as well as spreading through the entire group. The orphans were what they had to protect, not only in the sense of keeping them physically unharmed, but also to make their world shine brightly again. Stomping the earth with sinister mien, though, most certainly didn’t contribute to that.

If Longroad had thought his serious tone would be reciprocated in any fashion, he had dearly underestimated this creature called Vasilisa.

"Oh, wouldn't it? Why, if it's on Sasha-chan, anything at all would beautiful, but goth loli, why, it's just sublime, isn't it?"

Smile unfailing, excitement meter rising, face closing in on Longroad's at terminal velocity. The former reporter's attempt at bringing the conversation back to a serious direction had failed more spectacularly than any of Sara's ever had...!

"Why, we could try it right here, right now! I have an outfit in my bag hereー"

A crash. Property damage, Annihilatus' calling card. Sasha's seat was now empty, and the vodka was missing. All that was left of her presence her was her still warm teacup, and the gaping hole in the café's wall through which she had made her escape.

For a moment, no one spoke. They turned their gaze from the hole, to Vasilisa, and back. But then noise resumed the other members continued on like normal.

...Sans Vasilisa, who looked terribly disappointed.

"Saaaaaashaaaa-chaaaaaan!!!"

Tears poured out as she reached her arm out, in a helpless attempt to grasp what was no longer there! This was probably of no relation to any sort of plot, she simply felt the despair of supreme adorability having escaped her!

"Why...?"

She slumped to the table, a wreck of what she was once was. "She even took the vodka..." Suspicious mutterings just barely beneath Sara and Longroad's ability to hear began leaking out, and what they could make out was ominous indeed. Goth loli, kogal, Victorian era, kimono, Kanamin... Portents of doom and nothing else.

But like all things, the flow slowed, light (though not life) returned to her eyes, and with those dead fish eyes of hers she looked up at them from below, looking every bit like a drowned corpse.

"What did you two need again...?"

She'd forgotten everything!

---

The two knights glanced into each other's eyes, and using high-level knight techniques meant to be used in a soundless environment where their communication charms had been disbaled, communicated using only blinks, twiches, jerks, and bulges of their eyes.

It looked all the world like they had spontaneously began a high-stakes staring contest as both of their eyes soon turned a bright red from the effort; it was rather sincerely off-putting.

"Oi, Terrence, she completely took that the wrong way! What the hell do we do?!"

"Hey, Layton, calm down. This is where we need to improvise."

"Improvise? How the hell are we supposed to improvise when all we have to work with is the topic of that scary-ass dude from before?!"

"You're thinking about this all wrong. Come on, look at the girl."

Immediately, the two of them turned both their gazes at once towards Bláthín, four pairs of red eyes unblinkingly focused on her face.

Slowly, their focus started to move downward with the intent of analyzing the whole of her body language, but upon reaching her chest which was covered in skimpy clothing that they could only interpret as an attempt at producing sex appeal, they immediately returned their focus to her face, their red eyes now full of pity and understanding.

After which they immediately resumed their staring contest.

"...I see, so that's what you meant. Such a sad girl."

"Yeah, really sad... Just how much has the poor lass gone through, for that sakーwait, no, that's not what I was talking about at all! Layton, we're getting sidetracked here. Did you see what I was talking about?"

"O-Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, I think so."

"Then let's get cracking."

Their eyes returned to normal with an almost inhuman speed, and it was like their demonic gaze had never existed. Though it had most certainly been carved into the memories of the viewers.

"Ahahaha, as if brave knights like us would ever do something like that! Whether facing a devil or a dragon, we'll stand strong to the very end!"

"...I would like to inform you all that Sir Matthewson here wet his bed until he was twelve. That is all."

"Bffftttgh?! S-Sir Sanson, m-may I kindly ask what the hell kind of bullcrap you're spouting?!"

"Only the unembellished truth, Sir Matthewson. Why, the youth here deserve nothing less, don't you think? You shouldn't tell lies to embolden your ego like that."

The red gaze returned to Sir Matthewson's eyes as he feverishly shot a barrage of questions to Sir Sanson, such as "What the hell are you saying?!" and "That's not what we agreed upon!", but the person in question gave no sign of returning a response.

Sir Sanson's expression had been one of not stoic, but aloof calm from beginning to end, yet now, if you strained your eyes you could almost see a very devious smirk at the far corner of his lips...

“Kya!” In utter surprise, Sara let out a cute yelp before looking back. But, to her relief, the sudden voice from behind was something hardly something to be worried about. In fact, one could call it her salvation, coming in the form of the voice her scruffy superior.  

That being said, she did find herself slightly disappointed that she failed to react in a more professional manner in response to his sudden voice. It was definitely a failure as a negotiator that she had let herself get caught up in the pace of the Russians before her.

«It’s a shame, though. I think a goth loli outfit would’ve suited our Sara-chan quite well~!»

“Right? You agree as well, don’t you~”

Though, she was still human. She had her lapses. Blushing even more, she stopped herself from talking further as the former journalist made his attempt to bring the strange conversation back to the reason they had even come to Annihilatus.

"Oh, wouldn't it? Why, if it's on Sasha-chan, anything at all would beautiful, but goth loli, why, it's just sublime, isn't it?"

Aaaaaaaand that fell like a sack of bricks…

Sara stayed with her most diplomatic smile and finished sipping the last of her tea as Vasilisa began talking about trying to put dresses on Sasha. At least the more embarrassing subject was finally taken out of circulation there.

CRASH!

The sound of a crash followed by the sight of the Sasha-shaped hole in the wall was more than enough to tell Sara exactly what happened.

Nice going, little Sasha~

Stifling the urge to chuckle and throw a thumbs-up at the hole in the wall in memory of the girl who was downing vodka and brandy, Sara turned her eyes back to Vasilisa who cried out before falling into a slump and muttering about stolen vodka and various cosplay outfits. Sasha made mental note of a few of those for later since some of them definitely sounded cute.

"What did you two need again...?"

Ever the opportunistic diplomat, Sara decided to exploit the fact that she had completely forgotten the reason why the two of them were even here and bring in a fresh start to the negotiations. Placing her now empty tea cup back down on the table, she spoke up.

“Due to some errors on the part of some...well, uncooperative individuals, the situation in Whitby has gone past a point of no return.” Taking into account some of the points her superior had mentioned prior, she recapped everything (with perhaps a bit of embellishment). “We, of Necessarius, would like to form an alliance with Annihilatus and begin the evacuation of Whitby to prevent the situation from further careening out of control.”

The determined eyes Millinda Blackwater found herself faced with, upon reading note after note, struck her with a kind of intensity she had never seen in a person before. She’d simply stopped in her tracks as the girl had commanded by her actions alone and she found herself pinned down by that stare.

Her eyes widened. The papers dropped from her hands one by one, simply landing on the dirty ground, some being swept away by a slight breeze, some being stopped by her leg and some not even moving.

A short silence would linger between the two.

Not just one of words, no, there was absolutely nothing. No sense of communication, no emotion added to deflect the other, nothing. The pale woman in blacks was entirely frozen for that time. Unmoving. Unreacting.

What was going on in her head? Only God knew.

However, with that passing, she suddenly picked up the notebook and pen of her own, once again scribbling word for word, sentence for sentence, showing each after its completion, then moving on to the next. Writing. Showing. Writing. A rhythm like spoken word.


Each of these sentences occupied a page of its own. Each of them was followed after the other, written at a moment’s notice. Even after having taken the time to think about everything, she could only produce one at a time, just as they occurred in her mind. Yet it was exactly that, what made each and every one of them definite, like the strike of a clock hand. She wouldn’t allow for the girl to interrupt her, nor would she allow for her to speak up. Rushing her scribbles, she brought one up after the other, not minding any time it would take to read or react. She was merciless in what she did, but that served to show how she truly felt.

A glance at times wasn’t as important as the language spoken by behaviour.

However taking the primary into account, her face had indeed changed. Twisting from surprise over to sternness.

She was serious, no, determined, trying to push the detective girl away with all of her might.

However, would it succeed?


A short break, she lowered her head, then continued on, facing Erin once again.


With that everything was said. If the words wouldn’t suffice to deliver the message, her eyes’ determination most certainly would. She was more than 100% convinced of what she had just attempted to express, not straying in the slightest. Erin Lightheart should leave as soon as she could. She should simply turn her back on Whitby leaving behind the mystery, the problems, the ruins, the incoming ruin. After all, she still had the chance to. It wasn’t too late yet…

However soon it would be. There was no need for a Millinda Blackwater to and there hadn’t been any for Leivinia Birdway to declare it. Something was about to happen. Everything had moved into that direction. The unavoidable. The impossible.

The gears were turning and as they kept moving all would move.


And it was there, that a decisive turn happened.


Out in the planes of Whitby.

No matter how silent the night was and no matter how devoid it was of any action, the air was filled with an odd tension. Like fiery sparks the mood had spread from the centre of the town, out into the planes where the ruins of a warehouse remained. The haze was ever present, eating up everything, shrouding it, blocking off the light of the moon.

It was oddly terrifying a thing to see. However it seemed as though this was the state of people’s minds. A reflection of the immaterial in the material world.

How poetic.

Cardinal Enrico Coppolla and his entourage of twelve priests and nuns arrived at the entrance to what seemed to have been a normal structure just a bunch of hours ago. Actually, he knew it didn’t just seem that way. It was. He had heard about everything regarding the human traffickers and the abducted orphans way ahead and yet he had still come here, following the words meant to direct him astray from all else. But had he truly allowed himself to be fooled if he had already known? What was he thinking? What was he planning?

Nobody could tell.

His lips took the shape of delight upon being greeted by a shadow from within.

«It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cardinal. I am Henry Moore, leader of the unit of knights stationed here in Whitby.»

The man was tall much like him, yet his prestige and demeanour were entirely different.

One had the smell of an honourable warrior, the other of a mad beast.

Henry Moore and Enrico Coppolla.

The two leaders of two entirely mighty factions.

Factions mighty enough to decide the fate of the small port town all by themselves.

«I know who you are, Sir Henry Moore. There’s no need for overly lengthy introductions, truly. We both know who one another is, after all if we didn’t, we wouldn’t be worthy of our positions, wouldn’t you agree?»

His tongue was dancing yet again. However unlike with those he had interacted with before, his tone had undergone a drastic change. Delight and an odd unfitting politeness was all over. However, he wasn’t trying to be too polite either.

It was this sensation of a meeting between diplomats of equal standing.

Were they truly equals, though?

«I do indeed share the pleasure here.»

It was as though he had become an entirely different man born from the circumstances. He was smiling naturally, speaking with positive ring in his voice, not seeking to cut the other with the sharpness of his tongue. Instead it felt as though he was entirely ready to engage in conversation.

A happy chatter between old friends?

«Now, being welcomed like this does indeed entail that there is something else going on, is there? Another reason for you to have appeared before me, awaiting my arrival? I am correct am I not? So what, Sir Henry Moore, is it that you desire to accomplish by this exchange?»

Or a parley between two aspiring business partners?

Erin's heart remained unmoved, her will unshakeable. There was no way she was going to leave after all of her progress and discoveries. There was only one way forward now that could see them through to a brighter future, and that was...


She held out a hand toward Millinda, her very spirit almost appearing to shine and radiate warm light.  It was now or never.

"There's no doubts, and thank you."  Certainly, if they were after the same goals, then the only thing to worry about was their abilities, and it was better than going alone.

Though the others had their own doubts, the issue was that, they had already just asked those in power for aid.  If this was not the group to do it, nothing would be done.

The higher forces that be have decided to focus their attention on other matters entirely.

"If we find more people on the way, then we'll ask for more support, if that is fine with you.  But likely we will find few allies.  There is one person, but...I imagine she is the person Longroad referred to as the one the vampire is interested in next.  Well, we should move.  This way."

She would keep walking in the direction she had been walking from the very beginning, looking back to allow the knights to follow her.  Hopefully their efforts would be fruitful.  The haze was heavy, but the path was clear.

Well, as clear as it could be, anyway.

Alexander had always enjoyed learning about new things and understanding people so when the Knights broke their stoic nature their personalities truly shined. There was a saying; the eyes are the window to the soul. And some way, the young Knight believed that and thought to see them act what he perceived as normal was great. It was evident they were somewhat at odds with each other, but they both seemed united on this sole concern.

There was no easy answer here.

"It's fine, they will be okay. We may have moved apart in different directions, but the job remains the same, our mission is the same. While those two will protect the children directly, it ultimately falls to us to ensure their safety in the long run and only if we succeed. So let's get to it, shall we? " Alexander said who nodded showing a sign of confidence in their abilities before turning to Starbright. After listening to what she had said the young Knight agreed and followed her through the haze along with his fellow knights. Who was still allowed freely to speak their mind at any moment if they still harboured doubts.

At least he thankful for one thing regarding the haze, it hid the weakness he was still feeling from earlier. The miracle to recover on his own was a double-edged sword and he hasn't stopped moving since.

"An alliance."

He didn't bother with pretense. Rather than hiding his intention behind a veil of guile and secrecy, he simply spoke his intentions aloud for all to hear. Instead of attempting amateurishly to hide his goal for the sake of greater gains, he would run straight ahead and take what came.

He had decided to do what he did best, is all.

"The vampire has yet to be found. The factions who came here chasing it are plotting in the shadows. And this damn haze is hiding it all so I can't see a thing. But worse than any of that is that I haven't been able to do a thing."

His failures, too, he did not hide. Partly due to a lack of desire to do so, and partly out of respect for Coppolla's ability to discover them regardless of whether he did so.

"What I want is a direction. So far I've running around like a headless chicken, but enough is enough. By allying with you, I will orient the Knights."

He would take their power and their purpose and use to his own ends. The form was identical to what Longroad had done to him, but the substance differed substantially. The former journalist had failed to account for Moore's personality, and attempted to lead a raging boar on a leash. And in the end he determined it wasn't worth the effort. That was his working interpretation of the events.

But now that boar was seeking a partner of its own accord.

"So then, Cardinal. I have shared my desires, using the time you spared for me. For listening this far, you have my gratitude. If you've heard your fill, then you may go on your way."

"But if my proposal interests you, then I would like to take a bit more of your time. A partnership is a two-way affair. So please, tell me; what do want to do here in Whitby?"

---

"...In the long run."

The logic was, to put it bluntly, disappointing. They had hoped for a reason they could put their support behind, but Beathen's response lacked substance. The thought behind it was too shallow for the weight of the subject.

Both knights' minds fell towards the same path once more. It was clear. In response to this, they would have toー

ーdisobey orders.

"I see! As expected of the boss!"

"...Indeed."

Beathen had ordered them to speak freely if they harbored doubts, but they no longer had any intentions of doing so. For better or for worse, Beathen was their superior. There was a hierarchy. Even if he tried to make them ignore it, he could only go so far.

The stoicism of the Knights was not simply the ability to follow orders like machines. It was the power to suppress the unnecessary palpations of the heart to better follow the orders of their superiors. Those above chose the best course of action, and those below carried it out to the best of their ability. There was not sufficient merit to overturn this order here, as it would topple the foundation of the Knights.

So their doubts and dissatisfaction, they crushed and hid so that they would never be found. No matter how skilled a reader of minds Beathen was, it was not likely sufficient to pierce a knight's pride.

The sole reflection of their decision lay in how they silently followed Albrekka's path.

Richmond Longroad was another odd type. During the entirety of little Sasha’s escape he had simply remained still, his face coated in a very dumb kind of smile, much like those characters lurking around in the backgrounds of moe anime. Only that he wasn’t as moe as the entirety of his company.

It took a while, but finally, after the tragedy and drama concluded, Vasilisa finally returned to her senses, more or less. Once she did, he saw the opportunity to talk, only to have it snatched from himself by his over ambitious underling. A turn, he once again would react to with his dumb smile, listening and nodding as she spoke.

«Good Sara-chan, good Sara-chan.»

Petting her head as though he was dog owner or maybe a grandfather, he butted into the conversation, directing the attention back to himself, still smiling in that dumb way.

«The deal is as follows: We both know that we’re here for the same reason, but that shouldn’t matter all that much, really. The situation is too dire to worry about such matters anymore. There’s bigger problems incoming. Screw that vampire for a minute.»

He opened his plea, discarding the smile for his usual factual expression, attempting to give what he said at least some meaning.

«You probably heard as well, looking at how quickly word spreads in Whitby, but there’s been an incident in a warehouse out town. The Portuguese Market has been showing an odd presence in the town, odder than usual and by far more suspicious. I’m assuming they even wanted this incident to occur and end up the way it did. But why? Don’t know. Have ideas, though. And that’s just one of the troubles, really.»

Chaining word after word, the scruffy poncho priest gave his most for the sake of producing an easy summary, stretching easy a bit further than he probably should have. Yet the contents of his speech were just as strong as they always would be. Whitby was in trouble.

«There’s word about Enrico Coppolla wanting to make a move as well. He’s supposed to be chasing after the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight. I don’t need to tell you, but that’s akin to running straight into a minefield. One wrong step and boom. Just that said boom won’t end up killing him alone…»

His brows, of course unseen under the thick strands of his messy hair, furrowed. The more he spoke, the more clear the fact would grow that things were growing out of hand. Then again, it wasn’t as though he assumed she didn’t know. If at all, he was probably just summarising information Annihilatus had obtained as well. In the end, they had been the most silent faction throughout the the last few nights, so it would hardly be surprising if they had simply taken in information bit by bit, amassing it in similar fashion to Longroad.

«And of course we do have that ‹Vampire of Whitby› to deal with. I don’t need to explain anything about that, do I? I mean, we’re all here for the same original purpose, even though that probably stopped mattering for some of us.»

The vampire could still be of value in discussions and negotiations. It had been lost somewhere in the dynamics of this world scale incident, however it was still the most intriguing of all things. The trigger that had initiated everything. The target everyone had been chasing after. The creature they all wished to pursue for their own gain. Would it be for the sake of slaying it or for something else.

«To prove how serious our claims and interest in your cooperation are, we would be ready to share the entirety of our knowledge on this ‹vampire› with you. The entirety of what we discovered in our investigation and so on. Good offer, ain’t it?»

He concluded with a smile, not the dumb one from before, but a cunning mystifying one.

He would offer them everything they had on a silver tablet, just for the sake of accomplishing something. The evacuation of Whitby? Support in the matters he had mentioned? Had everything really grown this urgent? Who knew, who knew.

The offer had been placed. It was all up to them now.

A shudder ran down Bláthín Neves spine, when those two’s glances had wandered off the places they should have been allowed, meeting areas they most certainly shouldn’t meet. No matter how well honed their knightly art of secrecy was, a girl would always sense it when someone had their eyes on her chest.

Putting up a more protective stance as a result, she folded her arms in front of her chest compartment, forming the final barrier, all the while clearing her throat in the most audible way. A lethal message.

The two knights, Sanson and Mathewson, though, would quickly transition back to opening their mouth for their overly light hearted talk, blurting more words that were more embarrassing than knightly. Listening in on that display, not even the skimpily dressed fairy girl could hold back from blushing. Were they for real?

However it wasn’t her chuckle that suddenly broke through the cold haze. It began to spread. Light and soft chuckles were emerging from everywhere among the group. Bláth hadn’t even noticed, but suddenly the children chuckling as they were had formed a circle around the three at the center. Why she had been included was a mystery to her, but apparently their conversation had sparked some intrigue in the children. Not only them, though. Alongside them the nuns had gathered as well, some of them even joining in on the amused reactions

She’d look here and there, only to finally meet the soft smile of Sister Celine, who was nodding for the sake of pushing her on to continue.

«Tch. Until you were twelve? Really? Does that mean you still suck on your thumb or have your mommy read you bed time stories?»

She was mocking them, not with ill intent, though. She was pouring her most into the act of invoking ridicule for the sake of their audience. Good comedy was what had attracted those children and what had made them forget the circumstances for just the slight bleak of a moment. However even that was welcome. So she would give it her most…obviously appearing stupidly forced.

«Just so you know. I stopped wetting my bed when I was eleven!»

Was a one year difference really something to brag about there…?

"Hm~ And what's in it for us?"

At some point during Longroad's monologue, Vasilisa had regained her former energy, though she remained slumped across the table. Looking up at Longroad from below, there was a twinkle in her eyes that reflected a playful curiosity.

"Really, Market this and Sunlight that... What does any of that matter? They can do what they want. We aren't here for them, you know?"

Her words were filled with an unmistakable kindness, but that stopped at her eyes. That shine made the impression of any sort of sincerity impossible.

"From the start, the only reason we're here was for the 'vampire'. Whatever those other factions do, whether they chop each other to pieces, blow one another to bits, or have a big old party and dance the night away, it doesn't matter even a little bit to us, you know?"

"After all, nothing matters other than ensuring that that is purged~"

Vasilisa spoke with a bright smile, but the weight of her words was heavy. They sent a wave of sentiment throughout the members of Annihilatus in the café. Calling it conviction was too soft, and it was certainly nothing like murderous intent. It formed the core of Annihilatus, which concerned itself with neither witches nor heretics.

Its name was none other than 'violence'. They would, with pure destruction, with whatever means necessary, absolutely ensure the elimination of that which should not be. Neither the zealous faith of the Roman Catholics nor the bloody inquisition brought by Necessarius could compare. Their targets were not beings that existed in the first place, so hate and vehemence, disdain and pity were all unnecessary emotions.

Methodically and practically, no matter the cost, they would stamp out their targets, destroy them, correct what was wrong. For that reason, the directions of Longroad's pleas were fundamentally incorrect.

"And really, even if we did help out, by the time the evacuation was done, your information would be completely useless, you know? After all, if we don't have to worry about collateral damage, then our success is already assured."

Collateral damage, in this case, referred exclusively to loss of life and disregarded property entirely. And Vasilisa's confidence was not unfounded. Most likely, given the need, they would unhesitantly level the entire town just to ensure that the vampire's complete destructionー

"Mm, but honestly, I don't really have an issue with playing along." At this point, Vasilisa finally rose up and assumed a proper posture. It seemed she had finished confirming with Longroad Annihilatus' priorities and was prepared to give a proper response, but the gleam of her eyes still remained... "But that's just not enough justification..."

With a genuinely troubled-seeming 'ara ara', Vasilisa made her dilemma clear as she wracked her head over what, exactly, she should pry out of Necessarius for their cooperation. Funds? Manpower? Further intelligence, promises of future cooperation? She thought harder and harder, until finally, the solution popped into her head.

"Ah! Yes, yes, that will do nicely!" Once more, Vasilisa retrieved a bag from beside her chair, and once more, she did so with great enthusiasm that would make even a certain bum feel pity for the victim that was about to be created. "It's your fault anyway, so make up for it!"

As she happily misdirected the blame to Longroad and Sara, Vasilisa held up what, to a certain girl, was the very picture of hell...

---

Their pride had not been tarnished. Hearing the laughter that emanated from the children, a thick sense of satisfaction welled up from within Sanson and Matthewson.

Perhaps after this, they would never see these children again. The kindness of the church would find them new homes and new happiness. But right now, even if all they could do was allow them to momentarily forget their pain, they would do at least that to the best of their ability.

That was their duty as entertainers knights.

"D-Don't believe a word this jokester says! Oi, you're grinning aren't you?! You're completely grinning! You might be able to hide it from others, but I can see it, you devil!"

Some performances were carefully crafted, products of teamwork and creativity. But others were best done impromptu. After all, not even the most masterfully acted betrayal stung quite so bitterly as the real thing.

"I have completely no idea what you're talking about." Sanson's grin was now clearly visible, though still slightーall purely for the enjoyment of the audience. "I can't say I've seen him sucking his thumb, but I have heard him say some interesting things in his sleep..."

"J-Just stop! That's enough already isn't it?!" Though his joy at the children laughing wasn't diminished in the slightest, Matthewson's panic and embarrassment were utterly genuine. After all, if these stories ending up spreading throughout the church... "And it's not like you're much better than me, you know! It's just a year! A year!"

A wave of relief came over Sara as Vasilisa began to treat the so-called negotiation like one. Even though her smile remained bright, the weight of the words she was speaking and the implications weighed down throughout.

It was definitely relieving to hear, regardless of how heavy the topic was. That being said, she, herself, did not have much to say on the topic now that her boss was there. In some sense, it was nice having that support. On the other hand, there was something very wrong with her using her boss’s presence as a crutch.

It was definitely not something she wanted to rely on.

In the end, Annihilatus really saw what Necessarius had to offer in good faith as meaningless in the long run if they did cooperate. That was how Annihilatus operated. In other words, the negotiation was doomed to fall apart from the start—or so she had thought.

"Mm, but honestly, I don't really have an issue with playing along. But that's just not enough justification..."

She’s willing to give it a shot? But what justification would work for her…?

Sara found herself mulling over the possibilities until Vasilisa found a solution of her own.

"Ah! Yes, yes, that will do nicely!"

It was a quick enough interruption that her train of thought was intercepted and her focus was redirected towards Vasilisa rummaging through the bag.

"It's your fault anyway, so make up for it!"

Sara, seeing the outfit Vasilisa was holding out, felt her mind snap. However, it was hardly in the way the girl who left her impression in the wall earlier would have empathized with.

An almost child-like, curious, and eager glint appeared in her eyes as her mouth opened into a small O and her hands transformed into fists, held up below her head. She then turned her head to her superior.

Simultaneously and lightly, she shook her fists up and down in rhythm with her next, whisper-like words.

“Say yes~ Say yes~”

Another means?

Millinda’s eyes revealed the surprise she felt at that particular note. There was no need for her to rush her pen, was all it took the way her features twisted.

From there on, as the notes would come flying, the silent beauty of black and white would only allow for her physique to speak. She was falling apart bit by bit, did each and every of the written words strike her somewhat.

However, there was something unnatural about her. Maybe a hunch. Maybe a hint. Maybe a tiny little illusion of out of place-ness. Something was odd.

And finally, she would return to the pen.


Stern and serious, she would ago ahead to make her next move.

An unshakable will seemed to have been born from just those letters and sentences thrown about.


Blushing like crazy she held the notebook out in front of her face, attempting to cover the sight of her overly flustered face with what, unfortunately, turned out to be the messiest display of handwriting the world had ever seen. Which girl would enjoy being seen like that!? What devil would even go as far as to drag a maiden down to that!? What vicious play, Erin Lightheart!!

Unable to keep a cute squeak from escaping her lips, she finally realised how far she had fallen, only to quickly reassemble the shards for the sake of building up a new front, the classic cool beauty demeanour she’d been running around with. Femme fatale and stern as the situation demanded, she would finally meet the detective girl with everything she had. No comedic interlude would take it from her.


She knew that man better than anybody in the entire world. She had known him in ways that were impossible for any outsider. Not even family would reach as far. One could say, she had been obsessed over him; even more than a girl in love usually would. And yet it seemed as though she couldn’t even imagine in the slightest what it was this girl held. Was her imagination that limited? Or could she imagine, yet not believe?


Henry Moore’s proposal would be the last word spoken for about 30 seconds. It was silent, but not as though Coppolla remained entirely unmoving. Instead the gloved fingers of his right hand reached for his overly lengthy moustache, pulling and twisting it nervously while his feet would cause him to walk in tiny little circles. His excitement was becoming clearly visible by the second and yet he didn’t even seem to reply with carelessly spoken word of mouth. Instead he would think.

«I see. I see, indeed. You are seeking what you have lost. You are seeking something that will help you make up for your lost capabilities. The Anglican Church had functioned as the mind guiding your actions originally. With it gone you seek a new chance, along with the power to oppose them, as well as the other threats. Even a man of your caliber shouldn’t be able to hold out against all of these infinitely bulky sides.»

He would speak, assembling his thoughts in a way that would also serve to represent his insight carried by the wisdom of the powerful.

«There is in fact no other group in this city capable of offering these things. The Russians are a foolish bunch, only led by the drive to mindlessly destroy. And except for them, the only other faction with enough scale covered would be the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight, enemies of this very country, thus a source of dishonour. Anyone else? Maybe the Portuguese Market, yet most certainly those aren’t an option, not just for the dishonour, but considering…this»

Spreading his arms to direct the attention of the knights’ leader towards their surroundings, the crimson cardinal’s voice fell into unspeakable disgust.

There were many things to say, yet none would find their place here. Even a lunatic like Enrico Coppolla would have strong feelings towards these halls and the events that had taken place within them. However, could it be said for sure that it was for the very same reasons?

«Now. Now! Now~! What is it that I desire? What is my great objective in this town of Whitby? I would gladly challenge your imagination, however, that would only be harmful, wouldn’t it? Becoming something akin to allies, no partners, would require us to be of equal standing. Therefore, I shall not keep any secrets to you.»

The eyes’ closure was reversed slowly, revealing the furious fire within them. There madness seemed to rule. A kind of madness that could easily be interpreted as passion. Or maybe they both were the same here?

«To purge. We, the Inquisitors of Rome, came to Whitby to purge it of the ungodly evil. The vampire? Just one of many. You have seen them, those fools guided by selfishness. Those monsters. Those demons. Those pagan rats. Those heretics. This world’s evils. The Magicians.

To the very last of them, I shall purge them! I shall cleanse the world! I shall erase their existence entirely! Just as the Lord’s will commands.»

Passion or madness. One was overflowing this very moment. But which? Like a raging inferno it would linger within these halls. Surrounded by the black shadows of nuns and priests, that man in crimson was burning…

However, the next instance said fire was extinguished as his eyes would once again fall shut.

«We came to Whitby, knowing fully well how many of them would be lured in by the scent of the beast. We knew it would turn out this way. We were hoping for it to, so that none would stand in our way. However, we found ourselves limited by the authorities. Fortunately it seems as though this could change, right here and now. With you, Sir Henry Moore, by our side………….this changes~! We could finally commence the real hunt. Take their heads en masse. Save Whitby, that is.»