It was afternoon in Igwynt. The sky was overcast, and the atmosphere at the Buck’s Mansion at the White River Riverside was tense, heavily guarded.
The hunters who had tracked their prey from the Flooded Dockyard had completely surrounded the Buck’s Mansion. Guns aimed at every entrance and exit, snipers occupied vantage points on surrounding rooftops, and all teams stood poised for the inevitable clash.
Inside the mansion, two hunters, Gregor and Turner, along with Elena, an emissary from the church, led a group of their squad members in a methodical search. The lower two floors revealed nothing unusual except for one anomaly: nearly all the windows showed varying degrees of cracks.
“Window glass cracked all over… Could this be some kind of mystical phenomenon?” Turner muttered, frowning as he examined the intricate fissures on a second-floor window. Gregor, standing beside him, responded grimly.
“Not sure... Maybe they were performing some kind of ritual. We heard strange noises coming from here earlier. Stay sharp. Let’s head upstairs.” Gregor tightened his grip on his sword, and the group continued their ascent, focusing on the source of the bloody scent coming from above.
The higher they climbed, the more intense the metallic stench of blood became, sharp enough that even Gregor and Elena couldn’t ignore it. Their nerves tightened with every step.
At last, as they reached the third floor and followed the corridor, they found the source—a study.
Sharing a glance, the three cautiously approached the study door. Entering swiftly, they spread out and scanned the room to ensure no living souls were present.
No living ones, but plenty of dead.
Pages of books, now yellowed and blood-soaked, were strewn across the crimson floor. Furniture was overturned, glass and porcelain shards lay everywhere, bullet holes pocked the walls, and every window was shattered into fragments.
The sight was far worse than what they had seen at the Burton house. The room reeked of violence so intensely that the team couldn’t help but draw a deep breath to steady themselves. It was clear a fierce battle had occurred here.
“Heh… Why does this scene feel oddly familiar? Haven’t we seen something before, Gregor?” Turner remarked, breaking the silence. Gregor nodded grimly.
“Yeah… Last time, at the Burton case. Same room, same mess. But this? This is on a whole other level…” Gregor mused, while Elena carefully surveyed the scene and spoke.
“It’s evident a battle between Beyonders took place here. But the scale… It’s excessive. The bodies are clearly servants of the house, and judging by their appearance, they fought back against the intruder. They even used Devouring Sigils, but still, they were swiftly cut down and this room utterly destroyed. This isn’t something an ordinary Beyonder could accomplish… It feels beyond the range of apprentices…” Elena said, her voice tinged with unease.
“Hey, don’t jump to conclusions! Beyond apprentices? What, you think a Black-tier Beyonder might show up here? This is extreme, sure, but not that extreme,” Turner interjected sharply.
By "Black-tier," he referred to the "Black Soil" rank—higher than apprentices in the White Craftsmen’s Guild’s classification system for Beyonders. The Guild’s terminology, derived from alchemical references, was widely adopted in the field of mysticism due to their influence.
A Black-tier Beyonder in Igwynt would be a major incident.
“Regardless... It seems those people encountered enemies again here and fought back. This could very well be the same group responsible for the previous case. We need to search the entire mansion thoroughly. This study, in particular, requires special attention,” Gregor concluded. Hearing his orders, Turner and Elena nodded, dispatching their team to search the premises, while the three of them focused on the study.
As Gregor issued orders, a voice screamed internally.
“Special attention to the study, my foot! There’s nothing here! Go check the rest of the mansion, would you?!”
Behind what appeared to be an ordinary bookshelf, Dorothy sat in the darkened secret chamber, leaning against the wall and silently cursing her predicament.
Panicking when the hunters entered, Dorothy had hidden in the Buck’s mansion’s secret chamber, pulling the mechanism to seal the disguised bookshelf-door, temporarily concealing herself. She had no intention of staging a dramatic family reunion here.
Now trapped, Dorothy sat just a wall away from her older brother and his team, who were investigating the crime scene. At any moment, they could uncover the study’s mechanism and open the secret door.
Dorothy’s heart raced wildly. Not even when Edrick had hunted her or when she was ambushed by the Crimson Eucharist on a carriage had she felt this tense. Violence wouldn’t solve this problem. If only she had some mystical ability to shrink and sneak out…
But that was impossible. She had to think of something fast.
“Calm down… There has to be a way out. Even if the place is surrounded, there must be a way to escape. Think, Dorothy, think! If you don’t want a family lecture, then figure this out!”
Dorothy’s mind worked rapidly until an idea struck her.
“Right, they say this mansion has a secret passage! If there’s a passage, it’s likely connected to this room. If I find the entrance, I can escape!”
Determined, Dorothy stood and began searching the secret chamber, simultaneously using her Corpse Marionette Ring to control Brandon to help her. To avoid complications, she had made sure Brandon entered the room as well.
They searched meticulously. Fortunately, the secret chamber was well soundproofed, something Dorothy had tested with Brandon earlier when Buck and his men were working inside. No noise would betray her presence.
At last, behind a curtain, Dorothy found a heavy iron door.
Excitement surged within her. She was about to escape! But just as she reached for the door, her face fell.
“A password lock? Are you kidding me?!”
The iron door had a mechanical combination lock, resembling that of a safe, requiring a five-digit code to open.
“Where am I supposed to get the code now? The guy who knows it is already gone!” Dorothy groaned, ruffling her hair in frustration. But as she examined the lock, something caught her eye.
Four of the five metallic dials bore fresh, sticky bloodstains that hadn’t yet dried.
This was a clue. Buck had clearly entered part of the code while his hands were bloodied from killing corpse marionettes. The stains indicated the order he had turned the dials.
If her deduction was correct, Buck had entered at least three digits before being interrupted by Dorothy’s gunshot, forcing him to turn back and fight.
With only two digits remaining, there were just a hundred possible combinations to try.
Smiling slightly, Dorothy began turning the dials methodically.
Meanwhile, outside the secret chamber, Gregor meticulously examined the study. Finding no immediate clues, Elena stood in the center of the room and took out a compass.
Injecting a trace of spirituality into the device, the compass spun before coming to rest.
The needle pointed directly at the bookshelf.
Inside the secret chamber, Dorothy continued testing combinations.
Not far behind her, the desiccated corpse of Clifford lay sprawled with a ghastly skeletal expression, killed where he had fallen. Beneath his body, hidden and unnoticed, a sigil marker silently emitted its spirituality.