Chapter 24: Pre-Battle Preparations
“Four hundred meters west from the Vivian Glass Factory—”
A delicate fingertip wrapped in white lace gloves lightly traced the city map, finally stopping at the location of a theater.
Funis looked up and surveyed her surroundings.
Rows of red velvet seats still faintly hinted at their former grandeur and luxury, but now, time had peeled and shredded the past’s glory with dust and scars—leaving only ruin and decay.
Crumbled rubble covered the floor, cobwebs spread thick.
With the Blackwater River District’s industrialization, refined patrons no longer wished to visit.
The theater troupe relocated to the city center’s Georgeson District, leaving the original theater here to await demolition.
Perhaps in a few more years, this site would be renamed into some factory, but for now, it was still called—“Ansell Grand Theater,” Funis whispered to herself.
She sat sideways on the stage, a layer of blanket beneath her to ward off dust. A kerosene lamp lit a small area around her; the rest of the theater remained dim and unclear.
“Just south lies the Charles Herring Cannery. If the schedule is accurate, the debt collector will be inspecting herring quality there this evening.” Funis analyzed the copper boards spread beside her.
The gangs also invested in factories. Thanks to the Blackwater River District’s inherent industrial advantage, machines and skilled workers were easily found and deployed. The Bloodwine Society couldn’t refuse such lucrative opportunities.
The Charles Herring Cannery was one such example—Charles was another debt collector. He and “Ironfinger” Wez co-funded the factory, whose canned herrings would be shipped to other cities in the Kingdom of Correnzo in exchange for bags of gold and silver coins bearing King Clarence’s profile.
It was a Bloodwine Society asset—and Wez’s own. He likely valued it highly and wouldn’t miss the appointment without cause.
That was why Funis had chosen this particular time slot.
“I need a way to lure him in here,” Funis murmured, gently picking up the golden revolver resting on the blanket. She flicked the cylinder—the mechanical click rang out crisply. “And then plant a bullet in his skull.”
To compensate for differences in Path, Sequence, and physique, Funis needed to create a home-field environment.
This abandoned grand theater was her carefully selected hunting ground.
But Funis didn’t truly wish to kill Wez. If she could easily extract the secret warehouse’s location, she’d consider sparing him.
All of it hinged on whether she could defeat a Transcendent of the Generosity Path’s Eighth Sequence.
“Warden—possesses far superior physical strength than ordinary people and even other same-Sequence Transcendents. Muscle power is enhanced by at least double.”
Funis opened the revolver cylinder and began brushing the chambers meticulously.
Maintaining weapons while analyzing battle strategies helped stimulate her mind—an old habit carried over from her time as Sera Fred, which she hadn’t been able to change even now.
“If I take a hit head-on, I’ll be incapacitated instantly by his iron-like fists. The fight would be over.”
Dodge with agility, strike back at the right moment.
Funis reminded herself not to recklessly clash head-on like she had in the past when she was male. She no longer possessed that physique or strength. Her only remaining advantages were her petite form and nimble movements.
“Wardens can also temporarily harden their skin and bones to marble-like toughness, though the duration isn’t long, and there’s a cooldown interval.”
Next, she cleaned the gun barrel.
Blackened gunpowder residue and oily grime gave off a faint metallic stench. Funis wiped down every gleaming surface with a soft cloth, then used a fine brush for detail cleaning.
Her movements were meticulous and cautious—not a speck of dirt stained her white gloves. She remained graceful throughout.
“Focus on restricting movement. Strike during the gaps between hardening phases.”
Thread-thin wires.
Funis straightened several ultra-thin steel threads strung through the eyelets of transparent long needles, laying them across her lap. Only under the lamp’s light were they barely visible. She had drawn them from the needle pouch wrapped around her arm—one of the weapons and techniques taught to her by Chescia.
Sera Fred would have scoffed at using such deceitful methods, but she was Funis now. To reach her goal, it didn’t matter if her means were noble or vile. A witch ought to be that way.
“But the most troublesome aspect of a Warden is his burst power. He can trade prolonged fatigue for an explosive short-term increase in speed and strength—fearless of pain, fearless of death, like a valiant warrior.”
Funis furrowed her brows slightly.
She had witnessed the fearless death-charges of the Generosity Court’s Knights of Mercy. Whether divine or disturbing, she couldn’t tell. But it was terrifying—utterly chilling.
She lifted her skirt and drew a silver short rapier from the leather sheath along her over-knee stockings. Its cold blade shimmered, and its butterfly-shaped guard was elegant and ornate.
Though she hated to admit it, this little gift from Chescia had truly become her favorite.
Sera Fred had been skilled in rapier techniques, but given her current size and strength, Funis could say goodbye to most standard rapiers.
Unexpectedly, Chescia had remembered her offhand complaint and commissioned a forging master in the Kingdom of Correnzo to craft this slightly shorter rapier.
Perfect in size for Funis, and easy to conceal under her dress—ideal for launching surprise attacks from the shadows.
Worst case, she might have to engage Wez head-on while he was in his “burst” state, and having discarded her umbrella-sword earlier, this short rapier was now her only blade.
She wiped it down with a soft cloth and applied sword oil.
It gleamed brilliantly.
Fortunately, Funis had researched the traits of many Transcendent classes. She knew the Warden’s capabilities inside out.
The Generosity Path’s strength lay in enhancing physical capabilities. Its limitation was also that—it only enhanced the physical. Even up to the Fifth Sequence, this flaw remained unresolved.
Cylinder locked. Rapier sheathed.
Funis gracefully lifted her skirt and rose. She lowered her eyes and swept her gaze over this stage—soon to be her dance floor.
Sera Fred had defeated higher-sequence opponents more than once. Technique and courage were both vital. Yet even his former self would have thought it nearly impossible for a fragile Ninth Sequence novice to challenge an Eighth Sequence of the Generosity Path.
But now Funis, in an unexpected twist of fate, had returned to the feeble Ninth Sequence. Revisiting this ground filled her with both novelty and reflection.
“Now I can finally test whether I was right or wrong back then.” She smiled faintly, helplessly.