Hastur glanced up at the still torrential night sky, then followed the road back, got on the carriage, and returned to the West Borough.
---------------------------------
"No spying is allowed here!"
Inside the carriage, Hastur faced the mirror and laid down the next rule.
Although Sharon was hiding inside the mirror at the moment, that didn't mean she was safe.
The people of the Rose School of Thought might still be searching for Sharon, so he needed to make some preparations in advance.
First set one rule, then leave another rule for emergencies, only then could it be safer.
In the mirror, Sharon, from such a close distance, vaguely sensed that the surrounding space seemed to be shrouded in a layer of golden brilliance of rules, making one feel compelled to obey.
Setting rules? Wasn't he only a Sequence 8 Barbarian?
Sharon only thought for a moment and already knew Hastur harbored quite a few secrets, but she did not speak up to interrupt.
Everyone has their own secrets, and respecting others' secrets is also respecting oneself, this is a small piece of knowledge to keep in mind when walking the Beyonder world.
The carriage rumbled forward, Hastur gripping his cane, expression vigilant.
He could feel a malicious gaze directed here, but that gaze only swept past, not lingering for long.
Yet after a while, the gaze swept over again, then moved away.
Hastur sighed inwardly. On a rainy night like this, a carriage suddenly appearing here was indeed suspicious.
Even though he had set a rule forbidding spying, normal judgment would still cause people to look this way.
Hopefully they could bluff their way through.
After the carriage traveled some distance, the gaze fell upon them again.
At this moment, the carriage suddenly stopped, and the coachman outside spoke: "Sir, you should be careful. On a rainy night like this, it's easy for me to drive the carriage right into you."
"Sir, you, what are you trying to do?"
Slap! It seemed the coachman had been struck, and he dared not make another sound. The carriage shook slightly.
Then, the curtain of the carriage was lifted, and the dim yellow light from the lamp above the carriage revealed the newcomer's appearance.
His face was pale without a trace of blood, his demeanor sinister, eyes gleaming with ferocity.
Except for a difference in looks, he felt almost the same as Maric.
This should also be a Sequence 6 Zombie!
If it came down to a fight, they'd be two against one, with a good chance of victory.
But that would easily attract that Sequence 4 Demigod, and the risk was far too great.
Hastur steadied his thoughts and said: "Sir, if my carriage just now nearly ran into you, I'm willing to apologize and compensate you for any losses."
The man didn't reply, his eyes scanning every corner of the carriage three or four times before finally looking at Hastur.
"Did you see a woman just now, wearing a black gown?"
"Sir, you must be joking. On a rainy night like this, aside from an unlucky person like me, who else would be outside? Especially a finely dressed, beautiful lady?"
The man leaned inside, speaking coldly: "You really didn't encounter a suspicious woman just now?"
"Sir, I'm rushing home and didn't even bother lowering the carriage curtain, how could I possibly have met anyone?"
The man stared at Hastur for quite a while before withdrawing his gaze, letting down the curtain, and leaving under the angry but silent glare of the coachman.
"My Lord Baron, that man was far too rude. We should call the police and have him punished, to make him understand that nobles cannot be offended so easily."
The coachman's voice was loud, clearly he had suffered quite an injustice just now.
Hastur smiled: "Perhaps the heavy rain affected his mood, causing him to act so rashly. We should be understanding of others' inconveniences."
He told the coachman not to take it to heart, and promised that when they returned, he would give him a bonus.
This was recognition and reward for his work.
The coachman said no more and drove the carriage toward the Western Borough.
Hastur suggested that the coachman pass near the Church of the Storms along the way.
Perhaps out of fear of the Church's Beyonders, the Rose School of Thought member never appeared again.
The carriage smoothly returned to the Western Borough.
After disembarking and returning inside the house, Hastur finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Upstairs, Maric, who had finished simple bandaging, was anxiously waiting in the study.
After Hastur left, he gradually calmed down, but the more he thought, the more he wanted to slap himself.
Hastur was only Sequence 8, no matter how capable he was, he couldn't possibly contend with a Demigod-level Beyonder, could he?
Perhaps not only would he fail to save Sharon, but he might even put himself in danger.
As time passed, this premonition only grew stronger.
When a knock sounded at the door, Maric immediately jumped up from the sofa, strode quickly to the door, and opened it.
Seeing Hastur standing there safe and sound, his eyes reddened slightly, and he gave Hastur a punch: "As long as you're fine, as long as you're back."
"Mm, everything went well."
Hastur smiled as he entered the room, closing the door behind him, then teased: "Maric, your eyes are red, did you just cry?"
"…You're seeing things!"
Maric would never admit he had been too worried.
Hastur chuckled: "About Miss Sharon…"
"It's fine, she will definitely be safe!"
"… " Hastur paused, then asked: "If something really happened to Miss Sharon, what would you do?"
"I, I would avenge her!" Maric's eyes shifted from confusion to resolve.
"But you're only Sequence 6."
"…One day, I'll become much stronger!"
"Are you confident you can advance to Sequence 4 and become a Demigod?"
"…I believe my future self can definitely do it!"
Maric almost ground his teeth saying this.
Seeing this, Hastur didn't tease him further. Instead, he pulled out a small mirror from his chest and opened it in his palm.
"Miss Sharon, you can come out now."
"Mm."
The mirror rippled, and Sharon drifted out like a wisp of smoke, resuming her form under Maric's astonished gaze.
"Sharon, you're alright!"
"Mm, he helped me escape from there."
After Maric's initial joy, his face flushed as he glared at Hastur. "You bastard, how dare you trick me!"
"I was only following along with what you said earlier."
"…Ugh, my head hurts, I need to rest."
Covering his head, Maric pushed open the door and quickly left.
He really couldn't stand Hastur and Sharon's teasing gazes.
Sharon smiled faintly: "If you keep teasing him like that, be careful he doesn't beat you up one day."
"It's fine, Maric is generous, he won't hold on to such a small matter."
"That's not certain."
"Didn't you just stay silent earlier too?"
"I didn't hear what you two were talking about."
"… "
Looking at Sharon, Hastur felt her mood tonight was quite good.
Sharon put away her smile, glanced at the hem of her dress soaked in muddy rainwater, and frowned slightly: "Do you have any spare clothes here?"
"A maid outfit, would that do?"
"… "
Sharon froze for a moment, then turned her head slightly and gave a small nod.
This wasn't Hastur trying to tease Sharon, rather, the only clothes here suitable for her were indeed maid outfits.
"I'll have someone bring one right away."
Hastur left the room, ordering a maid to fetch a brand-new maid outfit.
He took a glance, it was the classic black-and-white style.
Handing the maid outfit to Sharon, Hastur showed her the changing room nearby and dismissed the maids so they wouldn't disturb her.
After solving Sharon's little problem, Hastur noticed his own smell, indeed unpleasant. His hair was also wet.
After greeting Maric, he too went to bathe.
When Hastur came out and returned to the study, only Maric was there, Sharon was nowhere to be seen.
She had likely left already.
Hastur felt a little regretful, he hadn't gotten to see Sharon in the maid outfit.
After waiting a while, Maric impatiently asked: "How did you rescue Sharon from a Demigod?"
"By using wisdom, of course. I don't have the strength to fight a Demigod."
Hastur told him about seeking aid from the Church of the Storms, how he coordinated with Sharon, and avoided the Rose School of Thought member.
Maric listened quietly, finally sighing: "You truly are skilled at using the power of wisdom."
"Since I'm weak, I can only rely on wisdom. Of course I'd love to just crush everything head-on."
Maric thought for a moment, then worriedly asked: "Won't the Church of the Storms cause trouble for you?"
"They'll surely ask questions, but aside from that there's nothing to worry about. After all, I'm still a Baron. As long as I don't commit treason or unspeakable crimes, the Church can't touch me."
The Kingdom of Loen has always been proactive in protecting its nobility, even the Churches can't easily break established rules.
Besides, he had just pointed out the whereabouts of a Rose School of Thought Demigod to the Church. If they captured him, that would be a major achievement, surely enough to offset everything.
After chatting a while longer, Hastur urged Maric to rest early. By now, it was already past four in the morning.
After Maric left, Hastur also prepared to leave. He walked to the door, then hesitated, turning back to the mirror.
Tentatively, he asked: "Miss Sharon, are you still here? Or have you already gone?"
No response. Hastur patiently waited, and soon the smooth mirror surface rippled faintly.
A glimpse of Sharon in a maid outfit flashed by.
"This outfit suits you well." Hastur smiled, turned, and left with a light step.
Tonight's rain truly was wonderful.