That night, Hastur gazed in the direction of Sunrise Almshouse in the dock district and murmured, "I'll write you a script too; it should be enough to bring this story to an end."
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The next day.
Hastur went to Bavart Bank. In his letter, Greg had specifically mentioned that his weekly salary would be increased by 5 pounds, and also asked about his whereabouts, implying that he wanted to know if he had time to meet and catch up.
After settling matters with Professor Wayne and the Almshouse, he still had to make a trip to the Church of the Evernight Goddess to pray devoutly, in order to avoid being troubled by the Night Watchers.
Two things could be done at once.
At Bavart Bank, he found Manager Harley and confirmed from him that his weekly salary had indeed been raised by 5 pounds.
Then he took a carriage to St. Samuel's Church, where, under the gaze of the priest, he silently prayed for half an hour, and afterward put two banknotes worth 10 gold pounds each into the donation box.
By the time he left St. Samuel's Church, it was already noon. Greg, having finished his work, arrived.
After some small talk, Greg asked about Hastur's recent situation.
"I've already heard about what happened at the docks. In the future, when you encounter such dangerous matters, you should let the Church handle it directly."
"Professor Wayne is an excellent and dedicated teacher. I need to contribute my part."
"No matter how good the teacher, your own life is more precious. There are many ways to solve problems. A qualified noble does not take risks lightly."
"Mm. I'll be staying in the West District next, not going out casually."
...
Greg had been busy lately. After treating Hastur to a meal, he left again to handle other affairs.
From his hurried steps, Hastur could tell that a transformation concerning the Kingdom of Loen was about to begin.
At eight in the evening, Hastur arrived at the Bravehearts Bar, where Maric was already waiting in the billiard room.
Once the door was shut, two zombies stood guard at either side, preventing unrelated people from entering.
"Here, your guess was right. This is indeed a Sealed Artifact."
Maric tossed over a bell. Hastur caught it with ease, spread it out in his right palm, glanced at it, and asked: "What exactly are its effects and its side effects?"
This bell was the thing he and Maric had ripped from that monster last night.
To avoid trouble, he had asked Maric to leave with the zombies first while he stayed behind to clean up.
"It mainly has three abilities. First, it can create a space of silence, preventing the spread of sound."
"Second, it can expand the range of rules' influence, very suitable for the Arbiter and Lawyer pathways."
"Third, it can confuse the mind, making people sink into it and unable to extricate themselves."
"Its side effect is just as you guessed before, long-term wearing or prolonged exposure to its sound will gradually erode one's mind, leading to loss of sanity. Over the years, it can completely strip away all emotions.
"Normally, unless at a critical moment, don't shake it casually. As long as it doesn't make a sound, the side effects are minimal."
Maric explained one by one the bell's abilities and side effects. He had only gotten this answer after consulting Sharon.
"How strong of a Sealed Artifact would you say this is equivalent to?"
"In my hands, it's about equivalent to a Grade 3 Sealed Artifact. In yours, it should be able to exert the power of Grade 2."
At this point, Maric gave Hastur a glance and reminded him: "We usually call such things Beyonder Items. The concept of Sealed Artifacts divided by grade is mainly used by the clergymen of the Churches."
Hastur understood the reminder, he was advising him not to casually use the term Sealed Artifact, since many Beyonders resisted and even despised Church personnel.
Hastur put the bell away and smiled: "The matter is settled. How about I buy you a drink?"
Maric said lightly: "That Vice Dean Bard has escaped."
Hastur's expression froze, unease rising in his heart.
"He might be stronger than we estimated, or perhaps he has a more powerful Beyonder Item. Otherwise, it would've been impossible to escape from the Night Watchers' hands."
Maric wasn't afraid of a lone devil under the watch of the Church of the Evernight. But for Hastur, a young noble who was only Sequence 8, being targeted by a Devil was extremely dangerous.
Because Devils are Sequence 6 Beyonder's.
Hastur sighed. He had clearly written in his letter that Bard was a Devil, yet the Church of the Evernight still let him escape, wasn't this leaving behind trouble for him? If Bard wasn't a fool, he would certainly set his sights on him.
Maric leaned back lazily, legs crossed on the table, and chuckled: "Devils are very vengeful creatures, and they also have a strong sense of danger. After this failure, it'll be difficult to find another chance to kill him.
"If I were him, I'd hide away to heal, not come to trouble you for the time being."
"And since such a big blunder happened, the Night Watchers will definitely be secretly protecting you, spreading a net and just waiting for that Devil to walk into the trap."
Hastur listened silently, then rose and smiled: "Let's just drink first."
"Your mindset isn't bad."
...
That night, Hastur returned home, went to the study, opened the window to admire the moonlight outside, then closed it again.
Although the Night Watchers' surveillance was quite good, it was not perfect. Even he himself wasn't fully fooled, let alone a recently injured Devil.
This, instead, made Hastur feel reassured.
As long as Bard knew there were Night Watchers keeping an eye, he wouldn't dare approach easily.
This indirectly increased his own safety.
He took out a book, sat at the desk quietly reading until about half past eleven, then went to bed, his schedule the same as usual.
Locking doors and windows, Hastur entered the Hall of Stars through his dream.
With the Night Watchers watching, he dared not casually recite honorific names.
"Let me see where you're hiding now."
Hastur slowly closed his eyes, beginning to peer into the fate threads related to Bard and himself.
Although he could also use his fate-peering ability in the real world, the restrictions were greater, and peering into higher Sequence existences risked backlash.
In the Hall of Stars, his ability was strengthened, and the backlash severely weakened.
Soon, in the dark, an image appeared.
In the blood-soaked vision, a head floated silently, eyes filled with unwillingness and madness.
It was Bard's head! Hastur opened his eyes, pondering the meaning of the vision.
Without a doubt, Bard would die in the future, his head severed.
But his own image hadn't appeared in the vision. Could it mean Bard wouldn't die by his hands?
Would it be the Night Watchers who killed him for resisting? Hastur thought for only a while before letting it go.
It didn't matter who killed Bard, as long as he didn't come to bother him.
With that settled, Hastur cast his gaze at the star of the Mother Tree of Desire, looking twice but refraining from whipping it.
She was unlike the Son of Chaos, if he got too reckless, she could seize on flaws and invade the Hall of Stars.
One trial had been enough.
In the following days, Hastur stayed at home during the day, reading, drinking tea, and sunbathing on the balcony, not going out.
He would only leave once Bard was killed; otherwise, it wasn't safe.
A Devil adept at sensing danger, if he really went mad in revenge, Hastur didn't believe the Night Watchers could arrive in time to save him.
At the same time, he was also testing fate a little. If he kept staying at home, would Bard's destined death still occur? After all, his decision not to go out was because he had seen a glimpse of the future, which in a sense was altering fate.
Every night, he entered the Hall of Stars to peer again into Bard's fate. Each time he saw the same vision.
...
Until a certain night.
As usual, Hastur lay in bed, entered the Hall of Stars through dream, closed his eyes skillfully, and peered into Bard's future.
But this time, he saw nothing, only darkness.
"Does this mean Bard already died today?" Hastur opened his eyes, deep in thought.
According to his limited understanding, this was the only explanation.
For him, this was undoubtedly good news.
At last, he could go out normally without staying cooped up at home.
And with Bard dead, the Night Watchers wouldn't keep spying on him.
While pondering, Hastur suddenly sensed danger approaching. His spirituality screamed warnings.
He stood up, swept his gaze across the starry sky, the Mother Goddess of Depravity, the Mother Tree of Desire, the Son of Chaos, all stayed calmly in their own stars, making no commotion.
Then the danger came from reality!
Hastur hurriedly severed his link to the Hall of Stars, letting his astral body return to his flesh.
Just as he opened his eyes, he heard a loud crash, the locked window was blown open by a fierce wind.
He quickly threw off the blanket, got out of bed, gripped his cane by the bedside, and stared vigilantly at the window.
Suddenly, a box the size of a head flew in through the window, landing steadily on the desk.
On top of the box was a note.
The howling wind outside gradually subsided, returning to calm, even shutting the window once more.
Only the box on the desk and the note proved what had just happened.
Hastur waited a moment. Seeing nothing unusual, he approached, cautiously lifting the lid with the end of his cane.
The cover was lifted, revealing what was inside.
A bloodied, mutilated head! No, it was Bard's head! His eyes were filled with unwillingness and madness!
Just like the scene Hastur had seen when peering into fate!