The night was as black as ink, thickly veiling the entire city.
The bustling streets by day had now returned to silence, with only a few scattered oil lamps flickering in the wind, casting mottled shadows. Ian quietly emerged from the secret exit of the Ancient Egyptian Library to the surface, his mind still echoing with the wisdom and warnings of those ancient texts. He was not in a hurry to return to the city but chose to walk slowly in the shadows of the outskirts, trying to sort out his thoughts.
However, as he passed through a narrow alley, he caught sight of a blurry figure out of the corner of his eye. It was a person wearing a dark gray cloak, thin and moving with a light and cautious gait. He was crouching in front of a house's wooden door, holding a slender magic pen, swiftly and covertly drawing something in the shadow of the door frame.
Sneaky and mysterious, a stance no decent person should have. His actions were astonishingly skilled—within just a few breaths, he had "visited" every door on the street. The moonlight poured onto the stone-paved road of Memphis City like turbid wax, while Ian silently followed the sneaky figure.
It was clear that what the person was drawing was not random graffiti but a set of extremely complex symbols—interwoven lines intricately linked, with a small hexagram in the center.
After finishing, he swiftly stood up and moved to the next house, repeating the same actions.
"Making marks in front of every house at night?" Ian frowned, "This is certainly no ordinary act. If not a thief scouting, then it's a precursor to some sort of ritual."
His heart alarmed. He thought of the recent frequent disappearances, the bizarre corpse of a maid, the unusual seal of the temple, and the replica of the "Eye of the Ra."
Scenes flashed through his mind.
The person's actions were undoubtedly filled with a sense of conspiracy. Ian silently closed the distance, and just as the figure was about to turn onto another street, he suddenly emerged from the shadows.
"All Petrify!"
A gray-white beam shot from the tip of the magic wand, hitting the person's back with precision. The body under the cloak stiffened instantly, maintaining a half-squat posture as it fell forward.
Ian's casting attack was very effective.
The Mysterious Man froze entirely as if enveloped in invisible frost, unable to move, only the eyes able to slightly turn, revealing shock and confusion.
"Don't move. Tell me, what are you doing? What are these marks?" Ian stepped forward slowly, magic wand pointed directly at the opponent's chest, voice cold and relentless in questioning.
Although he was a scholarly individual, he did not understand every magic system; the opponent's system exceeded his knowledge scope, so he couldn't immediately make sense of it.
The cloaked figure struggled to turn his eyes towards Ian. When his gaze touched the faint magic power undulating from Ian's magic wand, his pupils dilated suddenly, his face drained of blood, the voice twisted and trembling due to the Petrification Curse, but still strived to squeeze out a few words: "Legendary... Mage? How... how could you be... here?"
He was clearly a very perceptive wizard.
Ian's heart stirred, he deliberately lowered his voice, his tone carrying a hint of mystery and majesty: "Why I am here is not for you to know. I only ask—whom do you serve?"
"Are these runes a guide, or a sacrifice? My interest lies in the temple's abnormalities in this city. Now, answer my question." Ian raised an eyebrow, deliberately making the tip of the magic wand crackle with sparks, he stared at the opponent, releasing an intangible legendary pressure that felt as if a mountain was pressing over them.
He released the petrification effect on the throat but maintained the restraint on the rest of the body.
"Wait! You're not from the temple? You've come to... investigate the temple's abnormalities?" The cloaked man's tense expression suddenly relaxed upon hearing this, fear faded from his eyes, replaced by a complex feeling of relief. He breathed laboriously, as if confirming something, then though his voice still trembled, it carried a few more whispers of hope.
Ian remained expressionless, still speaking coldly: "Answer my question."
He knew that in facing these unknown situations, keeping a poker face was the best disguise to prevent others from seeing through his thoughts while out and about.
"I'm a member of the Dusk Hermit Association! These marks are protective runes, not harmful things; their effect is to ward off the night 'Hunters'!"
The cloaked man's voice suddenly became excited.
The opponent clearly knew about those shadowy matters, and judging by his demeanor, unless he was a superb actor, he didn't belong to the same group of wizards as those priests at the temple.
"Dusk Hermit Association? Doesn't sound like a legitimate organization." Ian raised an eyebrow, he had never heard this name, he slightly eased the pressure of the magic wand.
"We are not villains!"
The cloaked man was anxious, sweat beading on his forehead, but he could not move, "The Hermit Association spans the world, composed of wizards and scholars, dedicated to maintaining peace between the Magic Realm and ordinary people!"
"You... You wouldn't happen to be the legendary 'Shadow Mage' who has lived a thousand years, would you?" The mysterious cloaked man clearly mistook Ian's youthful appearance as an old relic disguised as a teenager. Understandable, as a teenage Legendary Mage was indeed incredibly extraordinary.
"Enough nonsense. Explain clearly, or I won't mind letting you keep this posture eternally." Ian squinted his eyes, scrutinizing the symbols etched on the door frame under the moonlight—an intricate design of three nested triangles, with small rune language symbols adorning the edges. He recognized some defensive runes among them.