Chapter 69: It’s Better to See a Ghost

If the script really has been altered, then even without saying it outright, the suspect is pretty obvious.

That would be the Lord of Nightfall Town—Barthes.

After all, in the original script, he was the one who wanted to kidnap Tessaia.

So who else could you suspect?

Setting aside these speculations and thoughts for the moment, Litt looked at the elderly grandmother in front of her.

“You mean Tessaia is missing, right?”

Litt repeated softly, both to confirm and to reassure.

“Please don’t panic. Can you tell me when you first noticed Tessaia was gone? The more specific, the better.”

Since the script didn’t specify, the investigation would have to start with Natalie.

Grandma Natalie wiped her tears away with her thin, bony hand, trying hard to remember.

“Yesterday morning, I received a letter of safety that Tessaia had someone bring me… She wrote she was very safe in the Dungeon, that her business would soon be finished, and that she’d… she’d be home soon to see me…”

Her voice was still a little choked, and it was a while before she could continue.

“I waited and waited… waited until night fell, then waited till morning, but Tessaia still didn’t come back. I ran to the Dungeon entrance and asked the soldiers on duty. They checked their records, and all said… all said that Tessaia, she—she returned yesterday afternoon!”

“But if she’s already come back… why didn’t she come home? It’s been almost two days now… where has she gone?”

“Did she go to the Knights?”

Normally, if someone goes missing, finding the town’s Knight Order is the best course of action.

But Natalie shook her head.

“They said they’d let me know if there was any news, but I’ve waited so long and still haven’t heard a word…”

After hearing Natalie’s story, Litt fell into deep thought.

Given the information in the script, it seemed she needed to pay Barthes a visit.

He was the most likely suspect in this.

With that thought, Litt composed herself and spoke to Natalie.

“Grandma, you should go home for now. Let me help you look.”

“But…”

“Please don’t refuse. Helping others is one of the doctrines of the White Church.”

Litt sent the anxious old woman back, not leaving until she saw Natalie settled into her chair.

Then she nodded slightly, closed the door, and returned to the street.

She checked the time.

Ten thirty at night.

A dark, windy night…

It was the perfect time for the Inquisition to act.

That night, Barthes pushed the woman lying atop him aside and began putting his clothes back on.

His gaze went to the window.

For some reason, the wind tonight was especially cold, filling him with a strange chill.

“You may leave.”

“Y-Yes!”

The naked woman left in fear and haste.

Barthes walked over to the window, looked out at the pitch-black world, and another cold draft swept in, making him shiver despite being dressed.

“How did it suddenly turn so cold tonight?”

But even after he shut the window, the room remained just as cold.

He crawled back under the covers, finally feeling a little better.

“What a pity…”

Thinking back to the events of the morning, he let out a regretful sigh.

After so much trouble to catch her, it had only been a short while before a group of religious lunatics snatched her away.

Though the woman he enjoyed tonight was decent enough, Barthes still wanted to taste what a demon from the dark would be like.

“Forget it. I’ll just ask the Slave Market in the Imperial Capital later and see if they’ve got any little demons for sale.”

Just as he closed his eyes, preparing for sleep—

Bang… thud!

A dull, distant, and muffled sound—like something heavy falling—penetrated the thick walls and reached his ears.

Barthes’ eyelids twitched, but he didn’t open his eyes.

Probably some stupid servant knocking something over…

He was the Lord of Nightfall Town.

His manor was as secure as a fortress.

For security, he’d even spent a fortune to hire an elite adventurer party that had clawed their way up from the tenth floor of the Dungeon’s Blood and Fire.

A bunch of true desperados, loyal only to coin.

In this dead-silent night, in this iron-walled fortress?

What trouble could there be?

He rolled over, pushing those pointless noises out of his mind.

But unexpectedly, the noise outside didn’t subside.

That vague, muffled sound seemed to be getting closer and closer.

“Damn it! Enough already!”

Barthes was furious.

He threw off his warm bedding and stomped barefoot onto the icy carpet, anger surging to the point of bursting.

He yanked open the heavy door and roared down the brightly lit, empty corridor.

“House Steward!!!”

His shout echoed through the luxurious, vacant hall, bouncing off the walls in a hollow refrain.

“What the hell are you useless things up to?! Are you all dead?!”

The only reply was the echo of his own voice, and… a nearly tangible, bone-chilling silence.

Overhead, the expensive magic lamps cast a constant, cold glow, lighting the ornate corridor as bright as day, which only made the deathly stillness more uncanny.

Too quiet…

A chill he couldn’t describe crept up Barthes’ spine.

He cursed under his breath, “Damn it,” and slammed the door, shutting out that disturbing brightness and silence.

He was just about to lie down when someone knocked on the door.

Knock, knock, knock…

Clear, steady, unhurried—like a funeral bell, the knocking sounded right behind him!

“Who?!”

Barthes shot upright as if burned, heart pounding so hard it nearly burst his ribs.

He leaped from the bed, stormed to the door, and yanked it open!

Blinding light flooded his eyes.

Outside the door—

No one.

The lavish corridor was still bright, still dead silent.

Cold air drifted in, carrying with it the faintest hint of… blood.

Blood… the scent of blood?!

He scanned the far end of the corridor in terror.

There, it felt as if an invisible black hole was swallowing all the light, leaving nothing but suffocating darkness.

That clear knocking from earlier… was it just his imagination?

But he’d definitely heard it!

Was it a haunting?

He swallowed hard.

No!

Impossible!

Must have just been the wind rattling the door.

Forcing down the terror threatening to burst from his chest, he just wanted to slam the damned door and lock the strangeness outside.

He pressed both hands against the thick wooden panel and pulled with all his might, but… it didn’t budge.

It was as if the door had been welded to the frame.

With veins bulging and every muscle straining, the door that should have meant safety and security wouldn’t close even an inch!

Cold sweat soaked through his expensive silk pajamas.

“What are you looking at?”

A sudden voice sounded right below him.

Barthes looked down and realized that standing before him was a girl in black priest robes.

She was so short that at first glance, he really thought it was a ghost.

Looking closer, oh… she was a priest of the Holy Inquisition…

That was even worse than seeing a ghost!!