Chapter 73: The Problematic Earl
As Falk’s words fell, the temperature in the room seemed to begin dropping gradually.
Because just now, the woman who had been crouched by the idol no longer wept in fear. Instead, after revealing a strange smile, she picked up a well-hidden dagger and slit her wrist.
At that moment, Divoman wanted to stop her, but it was already too late.
Yet in his gaze, there wasn’t the panic Falk had expected. Instead, he showed a trace of guilt.
This, however, didn’t draw much attention from Falk, because the spell attached to the idol had already been triggered. A dark purple, nearly black stream of light began to emanate from the idol.
Just then, a fair, slender hand with clearly visible joint lines stretched out from nowhere and directly grabbed the idol.
Accompanied by an explosion of deep purple light, Hethorik’s idol and the spell model that had been charging up both turned into points of light and dissipated in the dim, narrow room.
At that moment, Falk and the woman whose face had turned pale from blood loss were both stunned, staring in disbelief at everything happening before them.
But Sylvia paid them no mind and instead turned her gaze toward Divoman:
"The close-quarters combat ability of a warrior in a confined space can only be described as terrifying. And for you to unleash such a level of performance right after gaining this power is commendable."
"However, you made a mistake. When facing an enemy, never give them a chance to speak nonsense. Unexpected developments could arise."
"Remember, pride is built upon absolute strength. Blind confidence isn’t pride—it's foolishness."
The gray-haired puppet spoke with a smile, shifting her gaze to Mick, who had collapsed to the ground unconscious.
"Yes, I understand, Your Grace."
Divoman nodded, but Sylvia didn’t respond. She walked over to Mick and looked at the straight sword he still gripped tightly even while unconscious.
On the sword’s ornate decoration, she recognized a familiar emblem—
It was a thorned rose, the symbol of the Lancaster family.
And she had already determined this extraordinary being’s path—
Swordsman. Within the entire Plant District, only a few noble families possessed swordsmanship involving extraordinary rituals.
"Interesting."
She let out a soft chuckle, recalling the plan Loruze had once mentioned to corrupt the Lancaster family. She then curled a finger, drawing a transparent apparition from the unconscious Mick’s body.
At that moment, as everyone watched the scene unfold, their bodies trembled slightly—including Divoman, who had already experienced it once.
As her finger pierced in, the soul grasped in her hand twitched. A few seconds later, Sylvia’s expression subtly changed, but instead of returning the soul to its body, she slightly tightened her grip—crushing it entirely.
"Blood ritualist, not a good person."
She spoke calmly, and after Mick abruptly stopped breathing, she turned to Falk.
She repeated the process. After examining each soul, she gave Divoman a signal with her eyes.
"Pop."
Accompanied by a sound like a watermelon shattering, only Divoman remained alive in the room.
The leader of the Dork Party withdrew his fist, now stained red and white. He licked his lips, then bowed respectfully to Sylvia:
"Thank you, Your Grace."
"It’s nothing. We can go now."
"You take a detour and return to the Rose Bar. I’ll head straight back to St. Ruls Cathedral."
Upon hearing this, Divoman nodded first, then his expression grew noticeably strange.
Sylvia read his thoughts, but simply chuckled softly without offering any explanation.
As she stood at the mouth of the alley, watching his figure disappear, Sylvia suddenly asked:
"You said Isabella’s divinity originated from the Full Moon Sect, but why didn’t that Child of the Moon come for her?"
Lakdevo, who had been silent and merely watching, tilted his head:
"Ka!"
"My master, that’s actually just a hypothesis. The only organization besides us capable of producing a portion of the God of Death’s divinity is the Full Moon Sect."
"Even though that portion of divinity is minimal, not enough to support a metamorphosis."
"Oh? Is that so?"
Sylvia smiled noncommittally, then said in an odd tone:
"I saw some unusual things in that swordsman’s memory."
"The faith of Hethorik had long since infiltrated the Earl’s manor, and that Earl of Lancaster was aware of it, yet took no action."
"And based on certain memories, we can deduce that the Earl of Lancaster holds significant secrets. At the very least, his faith is not in the Lord of Radiance."
Upon hearing this, Lakdevo fell silent.
A few seconds later, he spoke:
"You can investigate, but avoid targeting that noble directly."
"He carries Radiance’s blessing, and neither the fallen ancient god nor His church can compare to the Lord of Radiance and His Church."
"Unless you’re ready to expose yourself."
To this, Sylvia simply cast a playful glance toward the direction of Serborn Manor:
"I don’t care what secrets that Earl might have. What I care about is whether my believers will be affected."
With those words, the gray-haired puppet withdrew her gaze and snapped her fingers casually.
In an instant, a violent explosion erupted from the leaking gas pipe in that cheap apartment deep in the alley. Blazing flames engulfed everything in an instant.
But just as the fire was about to spill out from the windows, it seemed to be blocked by an invisible wall and gradually extinguished.
At that moment, the pitch-black walls and the furnishings reduced to ashes could no longer provide any useful clues, but the lingering intense spirituality could still point to the group responsible for this “accident.”
Sylvia, who placed a nearly transparent, irregularly shaped crystal into her pocket, did not look back at the explosion. Her figure quickly disappeared around the corner.
...
Ruls District, St. Ruls Cathedral.
As she descended underground, Sylvia saw Loruze conversing with a young woman.
When that woman unintentionally caught sight of Sylvia, she abruptly turned around, then forced a smile as if recalling something.
At the same time, Loruze’s deep voice rang out from behind her:
"You’ve returned, Your Grace."
"Hmm."
Sylvia responded blandly, then cast a half-smiling glance at Adela:
"Loruze, once she succeeds, I’ll help you enter the third phase."
"Hmm… you don’t need to explain. I have a method to forcibly raise your spiritual quantity, and the resulting side effects are within acceptable limits."
"Of course, you may choose for yourself when the time comes."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Loruze bowed and left the two, returning to his office.
As Sylvia noticed Adela wanting to speak, she smiled and pointed toward her own office:
"Let’s talk inside."