Under the terrified gaze of the assembly, Remilia glided into the center of the grand hall and performed a perfectly executed, elegant lady's bow.
"Good evening, everyone. I am the Mistress of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, Remilia Scarlet. I have come here tonight for only one single purpose... to kill absolutely all of you."
"Arrogance!" The patriarch of the Ingra Family let out a furious roar upon hearing Remilia's calm declaration, the veins bulging on his forehead. "There are hundreds of us gathered here, and only two of them. Cut them down! And then go... wait, where on earth did this thick mist come from?! Damn it, the enemy brought an elite Caster along!"
The patriarch reacted within a single second, his instincts sharp.
However, reacting was completely useless. A heavy, unnatural white mist quickly surged through the wide doorways, the glass windows, and every microscopic structural crack of the estate. Within a few short breaths, the entire grand hall plunged into a suffocating darkness so absolute that no one could see their own hand stretched out in front of their face.
Just as the crowd began to panic, a chaotic burst of blood-curdling screams began to echo sharply from the corners of the room. At this, the relatives grew even more terrified. But they couldn't locate the physical source of the threat; they could only run around the pitch-black space like a swarm of headless flies.
"Everyone, do not panic! Do not run blindly into the dark! We possess the numbers and the enemy is few; there are only two of them in total. Gather together tightly, do not give them any easy opportunities to strike!" someone shouted loudly, his voice booming over the noise.
Hearing his seemingly logical instructions, several terrified people subconsciously moved toward the sound of the voice to form a defensive line. When they finally got close, however, they discovered that the person who had just spoken had fallen entirely silent.
Peering through the thin gaps in the swirling fog, they found that the speaker had been cleanly impaled from the floorboards by a jagged, blood-red spear, and was now hanging suspended in mid-air with unclosed eyes, staring straight down at the approaching crowd.
"Ah!" Facing this horrifying display of supernatural cruelty, the crowd shattered completely, fleeing in all directions once more.
Relying on his personal familiarity with the layout, one of the elder cousins tried to sprint through the gloom toward the main entrance. But just as his boots reached the threshold of the doorway, he felt an icy, metallic chill slice effortlessly across his throat.
"The Eldest Mistress explicitly stated that no one is permitted to leave this property alive," a calm voice whispered into his ear.
He desperately turned his head, trying to see clearly who had dealt the lethal stroke, but his fading vision caught only the fleeting silver flash of a throwing knife being spun between gloved fingers before he collapsed.
"Fear, cowardice... so easily broken into pieces," Remilia observed, resting comfortably on a plush sofa in the center of the room, watching the fleeing enemies around her with a cold, mocking sneer.
After speaking her piece, she raised her pale hand and made a sudden, violent grasping motion toward the air. The fresh blood pooling from the surrounding corpses rose up into the dark atmosphere all at once, transforming into hundreds of razor-sharp crimson arrows that shot out in all directions with a lethal whistle.
A single minute later, there was no longer any sound of breathing or screaming left in the entire hall.
Remilia stood up gracefully, smoothing down her skirt, and began to walk leisurely among the fallen forms surrounded by a lake of dark crimson.
"Sakuya, Flandre knows perfectly well that I didn't bring her along for tonight's trip. Do you think she will be unhappy with me when we get back?" Remilia spoke softly, not bother to turn her head.
"The Second Mistress possesses a pure heart and is entirely obedient to the Eldest Mistress; she certainly won't lose her temper over such a small matter," Sakuya Izayoi answered formally, standing a half-step behind Remilia's shoulder. "If the Eldest Mistress remains worried about her mood... shall I perhaps prepare an extra portion of sweet pudding for the Second Mistress tomorrow morning?"
Remilia's crimson eyes lit up instantly. "That is an excellent idea!"
Walking further inside the private quarters of the estate, the two began to systematically search the house for valuable items. They didn't bother looking at bulky antiques or expensive paintings at all, considering them far too tedious to transport. Instead, they focused solely on cold cash, high-grade currency, and various gold jewelry.
Soon, the two had completely cleared the interior of the house like a whirlwind sweeping away scattered clouds. After finishing their clean sweep, the two vanished from the estate without leaving a single trace behind.
Meanwhile, outside the perimeter of the Ingraham Manor.
Quite a few wealthy neighbors and passing citizens had noticed that the entire property was suddenly surrounded by a bizarre, incredibly dense layer of thick white mist. Crucially, this mist existed strictly around the boundaries of the Ingraham Manor, encircling the sprawling estate tightly like a physical wall while the surrounding blocks remained perfectly clear.
It wasn't that no one tried to contact the residents inside the manor, but every single phone call simply wouldn't go through to the lines. As for actively venturing inside the fog to check on them? That option wasn't in anyone's mind. Although most of the wealthy families living in this district were in constant contact and some were even distant relatives, the fact that the entire Ingra Family's private territory was blocked by a strange, unnatural barrier was a massive red flag in itself.
Either they were plotting something very dangerous inside, or they had profoundly provoked someone very dangerous from the outside. In either scenario, the result of blindly entering that mist likely wouldn't be good for one's health. So, the neighbors did what most civilized citizens would do—they called the local authorities.
When the police arrived at the scene and witnessed the eerie situation before them, they were also completely stumped. They didn't possess the slightest clue as to what had happened inside. But clearly, this mist generation method was by no means simple; the result of marching blindly into the dark would most likely be certain death. Being a city police officer was just a job, after all; there was absolutely no reason to risk one's life for a basic corporate paycheck.
After some brief deliberation, the officers chose a very reasonable, safe plan: they simply set up a bright police line outside the Ingra Family estate. As for the actual situation unfolding inside, it was impossible to judge under such heavy cover, so they chose to wait and see. If someone successfully walked out of the mist on their own, wouldn't it be much better to ask them what happened then?
The Police Chief explicitly stated to his superiors that his men couldn't handle this matter. After all, they were just ordinary people, and this eerie mist was clearly the deliberate work of a high-tier Caster proficient in advanced Originium Arts. Without knowing if there was a chemical corrosion element or high concentrations of volatile originium particles hiding in the air, he would absolutely not allow his subordinates to risk going in.
So, he decisively passed the urgent news up to the National Academy, the Commercial Federation, and the Knight Supervision Committee. Among them, the National Academy and the Supervision Committee were the official institutions that regulated and managed active Knights, while the Commercial Federation... well, as a prominent Knight family, the Ingra Family still held a significant financial share in the Federation's commercial market. If something catastrophic had happened to the clan, the board certainly needed to be notified immediately.
Soon, as the early dawn approached, all three major parties dispatched representatives to the scene. And upon seeing the thick, unyielding mist perfectly encapsulating the Ingra Family territory, everyone stopped dead in their tracks.
"Does anyone here know exactly what transpired last night?" The speaker was a representative from the Supervision Committee. Being called out to a remote district in the middle of the night made him somewhat dissatisfied, but seeing this eerie spectacle, he suppressed his temper and inquired about the cause.
After listening to the police report, he turned his gaze toward the personnel from the National Academy and the Commercial Federation, hoping to extract more detailed information from them.
The man from the National Academy shook his head with a frown. "As an old-brand Knight family in Kazimierz, the Ingra Family possesses a great deal of traditional autonomy. Aside from when their members actively participate in the official Knight Tournament, their private clan actions often aren't reported to our offices."
The representative from the Commercial Federation hesitated for a few seconds, glancing around before speaking in a low voice. "I do happen to possess some minor news. Just yesterday morning, the youngest son of the Ingra Patriarch, Olmer Ingra, died violently within the city limits. The Patriarch reportedly called back every single individual bearing Ingra blood yesterday afternoon, preparing to launch a private vendetta to avenge his youngest son..."
"Hmm? The youngest son you mentioned, is he the competitive knight known as Brassrust? He is dead?" The man from the National Academy thought for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he stared hard at the Federation representative. "How exactly did he die, where did he die, and why on earth did our National Academy not receive even a single shred of official news regarding the death of a registered Competition Knight?"
The Commercial Federation man shook his head helplessly at the interrogation. "The specific details of the incident are still entirely unclear to us. We were just lucky to intercept this news through our corporate channels. It is rumored that he died quite a miserable, crushed death. That is likely why the Patriarch suppressed the media and the reports, preparing to execute a private revenge without involving the law."
After listening to the exchange, the representative from the Supervision Committee looked back up at the thick, swirling mist towering in front of him.
"I recall the family registry perfectly," he murmured, a chill running down his spine. "And absolutely no one among the Ingra lineage possesses the magical arts or the equipment required to produce a thick mist of such a long duration and wide physical area..."