'T-This isn't right.' For a few seconds, Damon stared at the neatly dressed corpse as his emotions gradually settled. He was still a bit fearful of that crooked expression, albeit he did his best to hide it. Turning towards Henry, he let go of his wrist and immediately suppressed his voice,
"I need you to check if the other bodies are the same as this one."
He felt it was right to have his brother, who was in better shape, handle the inspection.
However, his brother did not react to his words.
Henry took a step back for a few breaths, a vacant expression written on his face.
'Don't...Don't tell me we're being hunted by the other mother..!?'' He had suddenly thought of a children's film he once saw in his old world. Imagining the tale's elongated antagonist, Henry felt a nauseous sensation rising from his throat. But he quickly forced it down as Damon's voice reached his ears.
"Brother, I'm relying on you to have my back here. Stay focused." He said as he controlled his tone.
"Check another body for the same condition, but don't touch them with your hands."
"Eh …ah.. Alright.." Henry nodded rigidly, taking a deep breath. A second later, he took a half step forward, then suddenly halted.
"What's wrong?" Damon inquired.
Henry spun around, lowering his gaze as he muttered, "Think you can stay close? just in case?"
'If I have to be close, what would be the point of sending you ahead?' Damon thought humorously.
He shook his head for a moment, his stern expression softening into a smile. Then, reaching into his inventory, he pulled out his sheathed katana and replied, "We'll check the maids out first. If something moves, I'll handle it ."
As soon as he finished speaking, he nudged Henry forward, and the duo continued carefully down the quiet hall lit by glaring crystals.
In a short span of ten minutes, they turned over a dozen well-dressed bodies along the way, examining every corpse in the vicinity and glimpsing others through dark redwood doors that stood ajar. Whether it was the pale-toned servants of Snobor blood or the elegantly clad Desterians, every figure seemed to only add to the insidious play that had been spun.
"It's the same...All of them!" Henry shouted, turning over the last body with a grim expression.
'I can see that you dolt!' Ignoring his reaction, Damon covertly opened his status panel.
'Let's hope this thing can find something to figure this out.'
*****
[Host Persona] [Host Affinities] [Host Attributes] [Host Skills and Spells] [Active Quests]
Scanning the options available, Damon's blue eyes focused on the quest subsection. He eagerly prayed for a hint as to what caused the deaths of so many seemingly youthful men and women. However, his expression quickly soured, spotting an empty slot.
[>>None Available<<]
'Useless dogshit!!'
["How rude. You haven't even tried the other features yet] Tomoe said with a pout. ["Besides, why would I bother granting you a quest for something so insignificant. It is obvious these people were stricken with a sort of curse."]
"A Curse?" Damon subconsciously said outwardly. His brows shot up as he began to mull over the possibility.
"You think this was done by a curse?" Henry's brow furrowed. "Cecil? Or that Constantine guy? Maybe the creature had more reach than we thought!"
"No, that doesn't follow the pattern of how they killed the others from the music school." Damon decisively shook his head and said. "We should keep looking. All our questions might be answered once we find Lady Lorelei."
"Wait a second. I should go first from here on. In your state, you're no better than a grade three or weaker, and something might jump out at us," Henry suggested
"That's exactly why I'm in front, idiot," Damon remarked, his eyes locked ahead. "If we find an enemy, I'll provoke them to get their attention, and while they're busy attacking me, you seize a chance to land a hit."
"That's the worst plan I've ever heard!" Henry hissed. "I'd rather you use the badge to restore your spiritual energy."
"It's a pragmatic one, and there's no way I am doing that," Damon retorted, though his heart hammered against his ribs. 'Who knows what would happen if I did that now....'
The silence of the manor was beginning to feel like a physical weight as they swept through twenty-seven rooms dedicated to the staff and a large kitchen. Reaching the third floor, every door they passed felt like a mouth waiting to snap shut. However, they kept moving while searching for another sign of life.
"Think they might be suppressing their spiritual energy to hide?" asked Henry.
"Maybe, but I'm not sure luring them ou–"
As Damon spoke, he abruptly fell silent mid-sentence and instinctively shifted his gaze five doors down.
Clatter! Crash! Suddenly, they both heard a commotion, not too far from them, and Henry's gaze was redirected to the thing he was sensing.
A moment later, they discovered that "thing" was a Desterian man wearing a simple shirt and grey vest, stumbling out of a room while tightly gripping a strange pistol in his left hand.
Immediately, it became clear the man was a specter when his manic eyes, filled with terror, met theirs. Without a shred of hesitation, he raised the barrel, glowing with amplified blue spiritual energy, towards them and squeezed the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Damon's breath hitched. In his weakened state, the world seemed to move in slow motion, yet his limbs felt like they were submerged in lead. He could see the reinforced metal slug spiraling toward him, trailing a wake of distorted air. It was a kill shot, aimed straight for the center of his chest.
Suddenly, a violent tug yanked his shoulder backward.
His heels skidded on the polished wood as he was hauled back into the safety of the nearest room, the bullets whistling past the space his head had occupied a millisecond prior, splintering the door frame in a shower of sparks and wood.
****
Meanwhile, back at the Cathedral, Vincent sat in the front row of the nave.
His gaze wandered to the painted murals on the interior walls. Each one depicted several events so grand that Vincent was so surprised he and his brother had missed them upon entering.
The first was split into three sections and illustrated an otherworldly comet cloaked in crimson flames descending from streams of golden clouds. Immediately after was its devastating collision and the eruption of the earth, as a wide crater disturbed a nearby village. A gathering of scared yet curious villagers soon followed as they encircled the site and the muddy form of a man with white hair fading to green rose from the soil.
'It's likely a bit embellished, but it makes for one epic story...' Vincent thought as he looked at the other sections depicting several battles.
He surmised that the entire painting marked the beginning and spread of the Destined Death Religious order. Yet that could not shake his doubts about how things really played out. Although he was too young to witness these battles, Vincent sensed chaotic intent filled within every dried stroke, as if the artisan who created the piece had borne witness to it all.
'Maybe he was ...' Vincent mused with a smile. His green eyes then lowered to the slightly elevated altar.
And in front of it, Kruger, or as the monk called him Dizang, moved with solemn grace, arranging ritual candles around Zaheer's body before the altar steps.
"Say, Priest.. Why did you suggest Henry go with him?" Vincent asked, his voice breaking the silence. "You know his Will is fragile. He might not have the stomach to hurt a human if it comes down to it."
"And why did you allow it?" Kruger immediately asked without stopping.
The question hit Vincent like a physical blow. He fell silent, his fingers gripping the wooden pew. "To watch Damon's back," he eventually muttered. "I wanted to make sure someone was looking out for him."
Kruger paused, looking over his shoulder. "You must break this habit of favoring the one over the other. It stunts them both as Damon has no desire for it, and it shall only diminish Henry's self-worth." The candlelight danced in his silver eyes as he spoke with a weary sound of wisdom. He then straightened his posture, raising his gaze to the first painting lining the upper walls.
"I sent them together for the same reason you did, but with a different goal. You were told to make an honest report on their performance, were you not? If you wrote that report now, Henry would fail."
Vincent nodded bitterly; the truth left a sour taste in his tongue.
"He needs a spark to rekindle his confidence," Kruger continued. "Protecting Damon may feed his desire to be a hero and help him believe he could be someone's shield. At least... that is the hope. Sometimes, the only way to fix a broken sword is to put it back in the fire."