"If I'd only heard about this secondhand, I certainly wouldn't have gotten involved. But since I'm already wrapped up in it, I'd very much like to know what's really going on."
"But..."
"I'll have to take part in operations like this sooner or later. I've faced even greater dangers back in Nolan City. To keep under heavy guard simply because of my status would be irresponsible for the future. Besides, hasn't the Sage said it? 'Excessive coddling is the start of murder.'"
Seeing Jenkins bow his head and begin tracing the sacred emblem, Captain Kelly knew she couldn't find the words to dissuade him.
On the carriage ride over, Captain Kelly had briefly explained the full story.
Since the beginning of the Month of the Artisan and Gentle Rain, clerical staff at the police departnt had gradually taken note of a series of unusual disappearances. The cases weren't frequent, so they had previously been lost among the voluminous records of the royal capital.
But tracing the thread of this particular clue revealed that disappearances at night involving carriages had been happening for at least three years.
The detailed investigation went on for several months before the Church finally confird that supernatural forces were indeed involved. They coordinated with the other Orthodox Churches in Bel Diran and planned the mission in detail, which led to tonight's operation. Captain Kelly's group was the vanguard, with reinforcents being dispatched to follow.
The area around Howson Manor was laced with warning rituals and traps invisible to the naked eye. But this squad had experience with such operations, and though it proved troubleso, they managed to breach the fence half an hour later.
Their inability to secure blueprints of Howson Manor beforehand added a significant layer of difficulty to the operation. However, the fact that only a single large mansion stood on the estate grounds was a small comfort.
Two were left to keep watch on the periter while the rest concealed themselves using the sa thod as before. In addition to the main assault team, seven Scribes with different tasks split off in various directions.
The wind was silent, but Jenkins caught the faint scent of blood.
Captain Kelly stood impassively in front of Jenkins, waiting for the signal. Once it ca, they would advance in three teams.
Disabling the hidden sentries and alarms around the mansion was an incredibly delicate task, especially since they couldn't risk making any noise. The local geology made digging a tunnel impossible, so their plan was to surround the mansion and wait for reinforcents, which all but guaranteed the operation's success.
The sweep continued until nearly midnight, every inch of the grounds around the mansion ticulously checked and cleared. Posts and rituals that couldn't be physically dismantled, or enchanted alarms that couldn't be touched, were left to the team's specialists, who attempted to reverse-engineer their workings.
Enchanters from different faiths have unique styles when setting up their rituals. Based on the evidence found on the estate, the unregistered Enchanters active here didn't seem to share a common belief. It was more likely they had gathered for so specific purpose.
The fact that these people didn't possess any cataloged supernatural alarms made the preliminary work go smoothly. A few team mbers still sustained injuries, but with a skilled healer like Jenkins on hand, it was hardly a setback.
Around one in the morning, the follow-up teams finally arrived. The commanding officers exchanged intelligence and devised a plan to breach the mansion.
The plan, of course, did not include Jenkins, and he had no desire to join the assault.
He took cover with the support personnel in a grove of withered trees in front of Howson Manor. Everyone wore black coats to better blend into the shadows.
Five minutes after the vanguard entered the mansion, the first gunshot rang out, signaling the start of the engagent.
"Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?"
He muttered under his breath, but no one heard him except for Chocolate.
Through his Eye of Reality, he saw the points of light representing the Church's Scribes move into the mansion, where they milled about in one spot before suddenly plunging downward. His first thought was that they had found a secret passage, but after descending a certain distance, all the lights simply vanished.
This was highly unusual. If they had simply moved out of his range of observation, the lights should have faded from sharp to blurry, not disappeared abruptly.
What's more, Jenkins couldn't detect a single non-Church Enchanter within the mansion. It was as if the place was completely deserted.
The moon climbed higher, and the silent night was broken only by the lonely calls of a few distant birds. The figures hiding in the withered grove remained perfectly still. Except for the frowning Jenkins, no one realized that sothing had gone terribly wrong.
"Was it so kind of spatial teleportation? But how could it move so many people at once? Or perhaps the materials in the cellar were blocking my vision? I've never run into anything like this before."
He wrestled with whether he should report what he'd seen. According to the plan, the second wave of reinforcents wouldn't enter unless they lost contact with the vanguard for a full ten minutes.
As things stood, Jenkins's support squad was positioned the farthest from the mansion, with dozens of others hidden closer, just inside the iron fence. Since those forward teams hadn't spotted anything amiss, blurting out his concerns probably wouldn't do any good.
"It's quiet... I have a bad feeling."
Still, he had to try. So he muttered, just loud enough to be heard.
"This is normal. Just wait a few more minutes. We should have a result soon."
A woman beside him offered a quiet reassurance, but didn't relay his concerns to anyone else.
Eventually, those outside the mansion realized sothing was wrong. When the second wave of Scribes stord in, they found the residence completely empty. They discovered signs of a struggle in a first-floor hallway, but following the trail led them to a dead end.
Once the mansion was confird to be secure, Jenkins and the other support personnel followed them inside. The Scribe specializing in divination got to work imdiately, while Captain Kelly and her squad subtly ford a protective circle around Jenkins.
"Was our operation discovered ahead of ti?"
Jenkins inquired, his gaze drifting up to the enormous oil painting in the first-floor foyer.
It hung directly opposite the main entrance, centered between two sweeping staircases. The painting's palette was cold, dominated by blacks and deep blues, depicting a withered grassland beneath a somber, overcast sky.
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