Whether in the Academic State or the Ryan Kingdom, both seemed to have fallen into a strange curse: yesterday's Demon would always be made to look kind by comparison with the Demon of tomorrow.
The citizens of Roland City would never know what had happened that night somewhere in the Ten Thousand Ridges Mountain Range; they only knew that, overnight, mysterious soldiers in black robes suddenly appeared in every street and alley, like the crows circling above Roland City after the Winter Moon fire.
Even the Royal Guard reacted as though they had seen evil spirits, terrified of being marked by these men. And Miss Marie Langbane, for once, put away her spoiled‑young‑lady temper, even warning Newcastle never to provoke these people.
Newcastle certainly would not provoke them; he was a man smooth on all eight sides, courteous even to Sir Skidgin, who had once lorded it over him with his nose in the air, and never making enemies with anyone.
