Earlier, at the shop, Carlz had told Zavi something that sent a chill down his spine. The people who had survived the kidnapping were not just victims—they were targets whose time was almost up. Tuesday night was the deadline, and Wednesday afternoon was the thin line between survival and a 90% chance of death.
Two hours after leaving the building overgrown with weeds and bushes, Clark felt it for the first time. A dark premonition had pierced his chest since the previous afternoon, like a cold knife slowly pressing on his heart. At dawn, he dragged Carlz out, visiting the survivors' homes one by one. The Morotuane Church—helping to identify their addresses—eleven names possibly trapped between death and life.
In the Chapena district, two survivors, Mei Actitus and the woman who spoke with Zavi, were still fine. Confirming or sensing it from outside, both were breathing regularly, their homes quiet. But that was only the beginning.
The other nine took the two of them to Forgenate. Four people there were found still fast asleep with their families. There were no abnormalities, no injuries, the neighbourhood and streets were still quiet, as no ordinary person dared to go out alone except for the two of them.
Until the two of them arrived in the Tezny district. Around 5:00 a.m.
At the first house, their hopes were dashed. The five people who had left the building the night before were found in a state that could no longer be called alive. Their right hands were missing—not torn off, not forcibly cut off—but gone with such a clean cut, as if taken by something that should not exist in this world. The skin at the end of the wound was clean, without a single drop of blood. Even the most experienced killer would not be able to leave such a wound.
Three police officers and two Tezny district investigators stood with pale faces. They also found another severe wound at the back of each victim's head—a blow from a hard object, possibly a wooden block commonly found in homes, used to stoke the stove fire. However, what silenced the two investigators was the scene in the living room: one of the victims they had just found was floating a few inches above the floor, his body slowly descending like a puppet whose strings had just been cut.
And that wasn't the only one. Four other houses, still in the same district, experienced different strange incidents. One of them was the Pinsone family's house on Ahiston Street No. 14, near the town square. The body was floating straight with its head down and feet up.
The other three victims were found dead lying on their backs on tables in the living rooms of their respective homes. The police and the two investigators were used to the strange events that continued to occur every day. But every time they heard reports of "dead people," their bodies and minds instantly froze as if they were fed up with the current situation.
Exactly 8:00 a.m. on Tuesday. The five victims had been buried in the public cemetery, Meirrena, Tezny, Ahiston Street No. 20.
Both of them attended the funeral as a sign of respect and sympathy for the innocent victims of the cruelty of the world.
After the burial of the five victims was complete, Clark decided to protect the six survivors who remained, as well as to investigate how to kill people like that.
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The two stood stiffly at the side of the road, rainwater seeping through their hair and down through their coats, soaking their bodies. The rain showed no signs of stopping, as if mourning for a world that had been destroyed. However, the cold and wet were not obstacles they were thinking about.
Their gaze was fixed on the town square—they had received information that the men in robes were now trading with calm faces, blending in with other people as if they had never dragged anyone into the darkness of the night before.
These were not the same four cloaked men that each squad had killed earlier.
At this moment, they might be disguised as merchants in the square, seeking to uncover who had killed their comrade and to locate the body.
It may sound strange. Why couldn't the man in the robe from that sect and his four companions realise that Carlz was a spy?
With the abilities of a Level 2 Magician, he could create an Avatar that was virtually indistinguishable from an ordinary human and could control it. No matter how far the Avatar was, even beyond the universe, in other worlds like the spirit realm, hell, or heaven, he would never lose control over it.
Carlz had grown accustomed to this since drinking a herbal concoction to enhance his control over his Magician abilities and successfully improving them, allowing him to deceive his enemies, even with an intermediary.
Since joining a year and a half ago, Conwuqoam—the title of the sect's leader—Finiscya, who worshipped Goddess Camilla of Hernesa, "Ruler of the spirit realm and hell," one of the four absolute evil gods.
Conwuqoam watched over Carlz by attaching a second-level spell, "Addichive," which stuck and left a small star mark on the left side of his neck.
Carlz was unaware of the spell, as it was invisible to his eyes and he could not feel any effects after being given the spell.
However, as he was engrossed in playing his role as a robed figure, he unknowingly cursed Zavi, and on the other hand, he managed to deceive Conwuqoam, who was killed by a bullet from a pistol imbued with the "Controlled" power, waiting for the right moment, and unknowingly, the spell attached to his neck vanished.
... By attaching a level one spell, "Information Reversal," to his Avatar. Information about several people from the sect who had begun moving towards the city of Moran, to find out who was involved in ruining his dirty plan.
Not only fifteen supernatural abilities. There are various amulets, herbal potions to boost spiritual energy and increase ability levels, spells with high power levels from one to eight, and Prisoners as controllers of a person's spirit and soul through the medium of water.
Zavi moved first, searching for a tall building—the bell tower—to carry out the scenario Carlz had prepared earlier.
Gradually, the rumble of thunder faded from their ears, signalling that the rain would soon stop. Both looked up at the sky simultaneously—Zavi atop the tower and Carlz still by the roadside—spotting a faint blue glow from the moon.
Both of them smiled, delighted to have confirmed that the plan to save the survivors would succeed one hundred percent, thinking it would not fail with that rebellious sect.