Old Town District.
A man in a gray robe entered the dark alleys of the Old Town District from the market area’s Corner Alley, his figure was like a light feather, directly leaping down from a height of over ten ters, landing gently. He frowned and looked around quickly after landing, then took off the gray robe he was wearing. Accompanied by a wisp of fla appearing at his fingertips, the robe quickly burned into a pile of ashes.
"Is the task completed?"
A young man who seed like a rakish gentleman was waiting for him in the nearby shadows, a handso twenty-five or twenty-six-year-old man with two small mustaches, a very distinctive face, wearing a white shirt, black vest, black leather shoes, and a suit, looking like a dandy from high society.
Such a get-up is also rare in Dorne, the attire is quite expensive, appearing even more fashionable than the wealthy sons of high society.
His smile was slightly frivolous, carrying a touch of world-weariness.
If seen by so lonely, desolate noble housewives, they might easily be attracted by his appearance and temperant.
"Don’t show that disgusting expression."
The man who walked into the alley started to shrink from the original tall figure of about 1.8 ters to a dwarf about one ter tall. He wiped his face a few tis, and with a masterful disguise technique, quickly turned into a boy who appeared to be around ten years old, even his voice transford into a childlike tone.
Not far away, the rakish gentleman shrugged and said, "Alright."
The dwarf, now disguised as a young boy, looked at his companion with a frown and asked, "Where’s the clown?"
The gentleman raised his eyebrow and said, "I don’t know."
"Maybe he’s off seeking pleasure."
"In Dorne City, only the Lantern-Bearing Gravedigger has the qualification to be his opponent now."
Hearing the other’s words, the dwarf disguised as a young boy looked serious, his brows furrowed and said, "He’s causing trouble again?"
The gentleman’s expression carried a trace of mockery and he said, "Why?"
"Are you planning to teach him a lesson?"
The dwarf was montarily speechless upon hearing this, seemingly a bit fearful, he turned his head to change the subject and said, "What about the Beast Tar? What about the Dancer? Why are only you here?"
The gentleman spread his hands and said, "No idea about the Beast Tar, maybe he’s off finding a new pet."
"The Dancer said she wants to probe Diana’s strength."
"I’m here to help you clean up."
"You don’t really think your little tricks can fool those hounds of the Night Watchers, do you?"
"I’ve heard they’ve recruited an Investigator with incredible intuition recently."
Upon hearing this, the dwarf seed a bit angry, saying, "Poet! Are you provoking ?"
The gentleman replied in an exaggerated tone, "No."
"Absolutely not."
"Let’s move on. I’ll handle the cleanup here; the President’s ssenger is still waiting for you."
When the President was ntioned, the dwarf’s anger quickly dissipated, he said slowly, "I didn’t expect the Lady of the House to actually succeed! I can sll the fear hovering over this city."
"Is the President planning to make the Moth Mother descend upon Dorne City?"
The Lady of the House tore open a passage in Dorne with her life.
The gentleman shook his head and said, "I don’t know."
"But the Moth Mother is waking soon; it doesn’t matter whether she descends sooner or later."
"The President is still playing hide and seek with those old guys outside!"
Speaking of the outside, the gentleman couldn’t help pointing upwards.
The dwarf’s expression showed a hint of worry, even though the President wasn’t here, his voice beca a bit flattering and cautious as he said, "Although the President is so wise and unparalleled, dealing with so many old guys alone outside, won’t it be problematic?"
The gentleman’s eyes narrowed slightly, his pupils transford into eerie blood-red vertical ones for an instant, he gazed at the dwarf in front of him and said softly, "Of course not."
"Do you really think those Demigods can do anything to the President?"
"The President tells us to proceed with peace of mind."
"The bigger the commotion the better, because only enough chaos can trigger the rise of chaotic flas outside, attracting the awakening Moth Mother to descend."
"The million plus people in Dorne City are the President’s chips."
"He wants to force those old guys to ’open the door’!"
A playful chuckle ca from the shadows.
A comical and grotesque smile appeared on the wall, like a mischievous clown, he sneered and said in a sharp tone, "You guys are having quite a chat here."
"The hounds are almost catching up!"
A ridiculous clown stepped out from the shadows, his presence only perceivable when you’re watching him, once your gaze shifts, he seems nonexistent.
The clown stepped out from the shadow.
His pale skin looked like it was sared with grease paint, the clothing on his body, the heavy makeup on his face, all resembled a black-and-white oil painting, not a trace of blood color seen, he had no shadow, just standing there abruptly, looking at the two people beside him, he tilted his head and said, "Enough nonsense."
"The President simultaneously possesses mastery over Demon, Devil, and Evil Demon paths, making him the Abyssal Sovereign."
"Those Demigods can do nothing against him."
After speaking, the clown gestured to the gentleman and said, "’The door’ is already locked. The President has acquired half the keys."
"No need to worry anymore about those Necromancers entering the real world."
"It’s ti to start our show!"
The clown glanced around, furrowing his brow and asked, "Where’s the Dancer? The Beast Tar?"
"How co it’s just you handling the opening burial ceremony?"
The clown directly ignored the dwarf beside him, and the dwarf seed very afraid of him, ticulously said, "The Dancer’s probe aims to asure Diana’s strength."
"No idea where the Beast Tar is."
Upon hearing this, the clown glared at the dwarf, using a cold tone, "So this grand Dark Ceremony only has you, a trick-playing dwarf, performing tirelessly?"
The humiliating tone made the dwarf’s face turn red, he looked angrily at the clown and then backed down.
"Don’t be like that."
The gentleman said with a mocking tone, "After all, he’s a promoted Nightmare Weaver, without him rendering a terrifying atmosphere at the opening ceremony."
"The Dark Ceremony wouldn’t be lively enough."
The dwarf cast a venomous glance at the gentleman, he dared not hold a grudge against the clown, but he dared to harbor resentnt towards the gentleman.
——Poet, just you wait!
The Clown took out a pulsating white cocoon from a strange, dark red pouch, which seed like the stomach of so creature, its surface covered in wrinkles. When opened, it revealed an obscure light and shadow, as if leading to another space.
He tossed the slightly pulsating white cocoon to the Poet and solemnly said, "Offspring of the Moth Mother."
"Don’t lose it."
"Once the [door] is closed, we won’t be able to get out."
"Without it, this dark ceremony won’t be exciting enough."
The Clown spoke seriously, "Our Doomsday Circus cannot lose to Dele’s Calamity ssenger Team."
"Their performance is quite spectacular."
"Even a Great Druid has fallen and beco a Withered one!..."
The Poet’s expression showed a montary panic.
The white cocoon tossed over casually by the Clown made him feel as if facing a great enemy. As soon as the cocoon touched his skin, thin white threads, like silkworms, began to burrow into his skin. The threads quickly turned blood red, and the creature inside the cocoon pulsated, faintly showing a bizarre biological outline.
The Poet gritted his teeth and pulled it out, the white threads flying in the air, stained with streaks of blood.
After being deprived of blood nourishnt, the creature inside the cocoon beca restless. Fortunately, the Poet quickly cast a spell, and a touch of obscure spiritual light cald the creature inside.
The Dwarf seeing this scene was a bit schadenfreude.
The Poet’s retribution ca so fast, he was delighted.
"Continue your performance, Nightmare Weaver." The Clown looked at the Dwarf beside him, his icy gaze made the Dwarf shrink his head, and said with a touch of madness in his eyes, "I want to make the entire Dorne City feel fear!"
"The atmosphere is still not in place."
"Candlefort’s illusions haven’t been lured by fear and despair."
After speaking, the Clown looked at the Poet who carefully put away the ’offspring of the Moth Mother’, raised an eyebrow and said, "The Heart Eater, after his last mission failed, is still lurking in Dorne City."
"Heard he transford into a woman?"
"Go find him."
Upon hearing the Clown’s words, the Poet’s expression beca aningful, he exclaid enthusiastically ’Oh!’, laughed sowhat inexplicably, "He transford into a woman? Interesting!"
The Clown waved his hand, "Go."
"Go about your business, and while you’re at it, see where the Beast Tar is."
"That guy runs around everywhere all day."
"Didn’t he bring the offspring of Dagon? What’s he looking for a new pet for?"
The Clown’s words abruptly stopped.
He frowned toward the direction of the market district, clicked his tongue and said:
"The Night Watcher has already arrived!"
"Also a Death Pilgrim. Interesting, they’ve discovered us so soon."
Strange light halos appeared in the shadows.
The Clown made a grand turn, as if it were an opening ceremony in the shadows, bowed to the empty alley as if he were a clown about to take the stage, using a strange chant, seriously and excitedly said, "Audience! Dorne City is now an arena."
"Co on."
"Let’s perform a thrilling death match for the mighty Demigods!"
"The naless ones from the shadows."
"Reflections of human heroes throughout the ages."
"Next."
"Doomsday Circus and the Night Watcher take the stage!... Human destiny will be decided this mont!..."
In the writhing shadows.
A strange sound like applause ca through.
The other mbers of the Doomsday Circus exchanged glances and stood behind the Clown in unison, bowing toward the flowing shadows, as if a fog lifted in the shadows, one by one, majestic black giants sat on the audience seats made of bones.
Monts later.
The shadow of the black giants gradually faded away.
The figures of the Poet and the Dwarf quickly disappeared in the glow of the spell.
In the darkness.
The Clown stood alone, leisurely pinching a lump of shadow.
The shadow in his hand was like clay, and soon he molded a figure of a man in a robe, resembling a clay doll made of black mud. He glanced around, casually threw it on the ground, accompanied by the writhing black sludge, an emotionless living person appeared in place.
"Play with them."
"Set the mood!"
The Clown chuckled lightly and vanished into the shadows.
The gray-robed man who appeared there looked around, imdiately fled toward the direction of the alley.
A few minutes later.
A nimble figure flew over the rooftop, swiftly landed, frowned and looked around, murmured, "Sothing’s not right!"
"Why are there so many traces here?"
"Are there accomplices?"
This is a Night Watcher on the Ranger Path, he tracked here and found the traces left behind increased.
Soon, he locked onto one of the traces and sped up in pursuit.
Not far away.
Figures of Benjamin, Daisy, William appeared, while Shawn floated invisibly thirty ters above them, searching for traces of the enemy.
The High Tier Hunter of the Ranger Path had already tracked the enemy.
But for so reason, Shawn’s spirituality flickered, he felt a slight unease.
.........
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