Dialogue returned to its usual flow, and Ayrton spoke up, "Where is Adam now?"
Hugo lifted his head, pride lacing his tone. "He's in the south. The path there isn't difficult."
But Ayrton cut him off. "He's no longer there!"
Hugo then began recounting what had happened… though, in his usual manner, he altered a few details and added embellishments to his story, trying to avoid causing trouble here.
Ayrton sat on the chair opposite the bed, elbows resting on his knees, then said suddenly, "I don't know… am I supposed to hit you?"
Hugo froze for a moment, but quickly gathered himself and replied calmly, "No… just bring Fiona here."
"You're in Fiona's house, you fool." Ayrton sighed deeply, then added with his arms crossed, "Actually… Adam's house is completely destroyed, and I can't host you at mine either, so we were forced to let Fiona take you in."
After a few moments, Fiona entered, carrying her usual cup of coffee. Her steps were calm, her gaze fixed on Kayden as if silently checking his condition without asking permission.
She observed him in silence, verifying the stability of his physical state… but Kayden said nothing. He asked for nothing. So Fiona did what she always did—she watched quietly and stored every detail she noticed.
Then she shifted her gaze to Ayrton and Hugo, followed by Charlotte entering right behind her, her eyes burning with hostility.
Charlotte looked at Hugo with a merciless stare, a gaze filled with suppressed hatred that had just erupted.
But Hugo was quicker. He raised his voice urgently, "What happened to you was because of Arbella! I swear! What happened to me and Kayden was the same… they only wanted to exploit my abilities, and I wasn't fast enough to realize it!"
"He's not lying." Ayrton said confidently.
Fiona nodded slightly. She had already confirmed his honesty, but said nothing.
Seconds passed in heavy silence. Hugo felt as if time had stopped. Fiona remained unusually quiet, and Charlotte seemed on the verge of unleashing something violent.
Hugo began to lose his composure; his face paled, and a heavy regret seemed to crush his chest. Then suddenly, he started muttering incoherent words, his voice trembling and his body shrinking inward.
Henry noticed what was happening and immediately understood that Fiona had used one of her tricks on him.
But Fiona suddenly stopped, as if she had lost interest. She looked away and said in a cold voice, "Honestly… I don't feel anything now. But thinking about meeting you was a turning point in my life. It felt like the moment I was finally allowed to break free."
Her tone was calm to the point of eeriness. It seemed as if she didn't care about anything happening… or perhaps she was simply pretending too well.
As for Charlotte, she was the opposite entirely. Her gaze was still burning, fixed on Hugo.
She slowly approached the bed where he sat, then sat beside him.
In a low voice, she said, "She may forgive you… but I don't."
Hugo looked at her, unable to respond. His eyes were sharp, and her red hair scattered over her shoulders made him feel as if he was about to fall into an inescapable trap.
Ayrton turned his face away and said quietly to Kayden and Henry, "Don't look too much… I think I understand what she's about to do."
At that moment, Charlotte slowly raised her hand and placed it over her face… Hugo watched, not understanding what was happening, but his heart was pounding violently.
Then… Charlotte's face disappeared.
What replaced it was not a human face, but a nightmare made manifest. A fusion of deathly shadows and Hugo's deepest fears. A shape impossible to describe precisely, but it resembled the approach of an ending.
Hugo trembled, opening his mouth to call for help, but no sound came out only a broken whisper.
Then, a strong hand landed on Charlotte's shoulder, stopping her instantly.
And in the next moment, Hugo was punched in the face… by Fiona.
Ayrton looked at Fiona in shock. ' I suppose Fiona and Charlotte formed a gang… and I had no idea. Is that good? Did I hire too many people?'
"Adam is missing, and now there's an open position." Kayden said meaningfully.
Ayrton gestured for him to be quiet, and Kayden simply nodded and fell silent in respect.
Then Ayrton spoke calmly, "You're a traitor… but you helped us before, and that won't be forgotten. So you're welcome here anytime. Adam won't mind. But if you don't comply… you're dead."
He then stood up and signaled for Kayden and Henry to follow him. Colton also moved. Kayden had previously explained that Colton was a friend and now lived in his house.
Ayrton automatically included him in the group without objection. He often struggled with a lack of manpower, and having an extra member felt like an unexpected gift.
Because of that, he usually carried most of the workload alongside Adam, while assigning secondary tasks to the others.
Despite his commitment to the work, Ayrton felt forced into it. He often considered leaving, especially on nights weighed down by exhaustion and unanswered questions. But he knew this opportunity despite its danger and hardship was a chance to improve his abilities. So he stayed silent, never speaking of his inner thoughts. He didn't want sympathy or complaints. He simply worked… and tried not to show anything.
Ayrton had once betrayed the Church, and this job was his punishment. But he and Adam had formed a group together, and neither of them could bring themselves to stop.
As for Colton, he seemed to enjoy everything happening. He watched from behind as if it were a live performance.
His faint smile, the way he observed every detail… made it seem more like entertainment than duty.
Kayden noticed this several times, but said nothing.
"Where to?" Henry asked, looking ahead.
"To a crime scene," Ayrton replied, fiddling with a set of small keys in his hand.
Before arriving, he stopped the carriage and stepped down. "I'm going into the tavern to pick something up. I won't be long."
From the carriage window, Kayden narrowed his eyes toward the tavern in suspicion. But Colton said calmly, "He's gathering information. Strange rumors have begun circulating recently."
Henry immediately asked, "What kind of rumors?"
Colton shrugged lazily, crossing his arms. "There are claims that certain sacrificial materials can accelerate spiritual advancement… even better than the twins."
He gestured toward Kayden and Henry, then added with a faint smile, "But I disagree. Nothing surpasses the twin essence and their blood. Of course, I don't mean you're still at the beginning of your path. But I do wonder… Why are these fools always in such a rush?"
Kayden looked at him with interest. His tone invited attention. He had been curious about Colton's opinion for a while, but never asked directly.
Colton continued as if delivering a personal philosophy, "When you eat unripe food, you won't enjoy it. It will taste bad, be hard to chew, unpleasant… you'll likely leave it and say it isn't worth it. But when it's properly cooked… when it's truly matured… it becomes far better, more satisfying. It's no longer just raw food it becomes an experience."
Kayden shook his head and said in a teasing tone, "Are you hungry?"
Then Kayden continued more seriously, "Actually, I think what you said is about seventy percent correct. But when food matures by which I mean us this time it becomes much harder to obtain… and many could be killed before anyone manages to claim us."
Henry nodded slowly, as if weighing the words in his mind, then expressed his agreement in silence.
Kayden went on, "But what Colton said makes sense… the harder something is to obtain, the stronger the desire for it becomes. That's what makes things exciting. Strangely… I've never felt this kind of desire before, but now I think I… want power. I've noticed my control over my spiritual abilities is improving… naturally… almost instinctively."
It wasn't long before Ayrton returned from the tavern, holding something small in his hand, clearly having obtained what he came for.
Inside the carriage, Ayrton let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to push away heavy thoughts. Kayden noticed this and briefly felt that Ayrton's features looked younger for a moment.
The carriage continued moving slowly, swaying along the muddy forest roads.
When it finally stopped, Kayden stepped down lightly without any sign of unease.
The forest was dense and dark, covered in a thin mist that clung to the trees. Kayden murmured softly, half thinking and half hesitating, "Why this forest in particular?"
Henry replied without lifting his gaze from the surrounding trees, "The forest is cursed… that's what everyone says now."
Michael was waiting for them. Kayden recognized the people at the site; Michael was the same man who had received them at the office earlier, and beside him stood a pale man whose face carried no expression, as if life had left him long ago.
But what caught Kayden's attention wasn't the men—it was the silence. It wasn't natural.
And when he focused on the center of the site… Kayden froze.
A man lay there… dead, his body fixed to the ground with unsettling precision, like a carefully crafted statue. His left hand was raised toward the sky as if pleading for salvation, while his right arm extended forward, holding… his own heart, placed between his fingers like an offering.
Henry asked flatly, "A statue?"
But the truth was far deeper.
The body had not been left to decay like an ordinary victim. It had been carefully coated in plaster and clay, as if the killer were an artist sculpting a final masterpiece. The man's face was rigid, yet carried a hint of eternal shock, as though the moment of his death had been frozen forever.
Kayden approached the body after putting on his gloves, then examined the heart closely. Inside it, he noticed dried, withered flowers embedded within the frozen blood like a distorted funeral wreath.
He tried to open the corpse's mouth but met strong resistance, forcing Henry to assist him. When they finally opened it… they found more of the same flowers—wild, dead blossoms carefully placed, like messages buried alongside final words.
Kayden stepped back, his eyes still fixed on the horrifying artwork. Alexander, standing beside him, muttered, "If Adam were here… he might have complimented the killer's taste."
Kayden looked at Alexander in silence, studying his pale features. He hadn't paid much attention to his fading complexion before, assuming it was fatigue or lack of sleep, but now amid this complex scene—he began to suspect it was something deeper.
Alexander looked unnaturally pale, not the pallor of illness or fear, but the kind of paleness that doesn't belong entirely to this world. His skin was drained, as if life had been slowly bled out over years, and his eyes carried a faint glow not alive, but reflecting something else.
Kayden thought quietly, his gaze still fixed on him 'He looks like a ghost…'
And for the first time, it occurred to him that Alexander's spiritual abilities might be the cause. There were types of power, as he knew from past experience, that didn't grant strength so much as they took something in return parasitic abilities that fed on the body's vitality in exchange for insight or control.
Alexander turned and explained, "According to the initial examination, this body has been dead for about a week…"
He raised a finger toward the corpse and added, "He's a thrall… like us, but with a very bad reputation."
Colton stepped slightly closer, his gaze carefully weighing every detail. "He's in the purification stage… specifically the middle phase."
Alexander nodded in agreement. "Forty-five years old, no stable job, but he was linked to a series of mysterious abductions on the outskirts of the city."
Kayden took a deep breath. "Died like the rest…" he muttered, his eyes returning to the heart held in the dead man's hand.
He watched Michael helping Henry lower the body and prepare it for transport, while Ayrton remained in the background, lost in thought.
"Did you notice the pattern?" Ayrton suddenly spoke. "The three bodies… they balance each other out, like hidden corners of a triangle. I'll borrow Adam's words here: 'The killer is the same… but some deliberately mix the trails to mislead us, as if they enjoy confusing us.' If you look closely… you'll realize a ritual is being silently woven—a sacrificial rite already carried out in three stages in this exact area. The main ritual will likely take place at the center of this triangle."
"You're very smart, Ayrton," Colton murmured in admiration. "That's highly plausible."
The group remained at the crime scene for quite some time, occupied with gathering evidence.
Michael raised an eyebrow as he examined one of the markings on the ground. "All these crimes… They're very similar. Same symbols, same arrangement…"
Ayrton slowly shook his head. "Some rituals, by nature, enforce similarity. There's no room for creativity or deviation. Using the same materials, the same steps that's part of what makes them effective. I assume you understand that… don't you?"
But Michael, unusually, looked hesitant and admitted honestly, "My progression has always been smooth. I've never needed sacrificial rituals like this. My body functions properly without all this complexity."
Alexander heard those words. He turned toward him sharply, though Michael didn't fully understand the implication and simply stared at the ground in thought.
Ayrton looked back at the crime scene, his eyes scanning the charred symbols. "Unlike you…I failed."