Realizing that Benjamin had directly intervened in Master Michelangelo’s resurrection ritual... this was actually good news for Annan and his team.
Even if Benjamin wouldn’t appear in person to maintain the false information that "he was dead".
But at least, they had gained an ally who would only appear in the shadows...
Probably an ally.
To prepare for tomorrow’s battle, Annan had the players go to bed early. They aid to get up after breakfast and log on early the next morning—they only knew the ritual would start on December 14, 1503, but were not entirely sure at what hour of the fourteenth.
If it was at dawn, they would just have to consider themselves unlucky.
But as long as it wasn’t dawn, they should let the players get a good night’s rest to be ready for battle in ti—
After convincing the players to log off, Annan also went to bed early.
To coordinate with each other, Salvatore stayed in Annan’s bedroom, reading until three in the morning... the goal was to make himself sleepy as soon as possible so that he could fall asleep imdiately at three a.m.
"Let’s confirm again."
Annan spoke softly with his eyes closed, "Tomorrow, the bishop and I will try to wake up before sunrise and respectively handle the defenses at Clearwater Street number 44 and Xiushui Street number 12."
"After you, Eleven, and Old Goose wake up, you’ll imdiately co to assist with defense; Princess Kafney and the other two will go to Xiushui Street to reinforce after they wake up..."
Based on the experints conducted before, Annan confird that these two mirror-symtrical rituals were indeed interlocked—if all doors in one house were open, all doors in the other house would imdiately close.
And this interlock had a premise...
No matter whether the doors in Clearwater Street were open or closed, it wouldn’t affect the current Notre Da at all.
But only when the "current" Notre Da stayed at ho, the "past" Notre Da’s doors could close, and the two from the past could temporarily appear in this world.
Otherwise, at the Notre Da’s house on Xiushui Street, when the last door closed... several doors here on Clearwater Street would pop open simultaneously, and the two from the past would disappear imdiately.
It was as if the internet cable had been unplugged, and the two were logged off the ga together mid-battle.
This must be a safety asure to prevent the two Notre Das from eting each other inadvertently.
But this also ant that Annan and his team had to be ready to defend both sides—
Not only did they need to protect "Mr. Notre Da of the past" and his wife, lis Notre Da, who was about to give birth and had already died years ago.
At the sa ti, they had to ensure that the current Notre Da didn’t leave ho at all during the process.
If he stepped out, the pair from the past would vanish suddenly.
Thus, Annan had made the following arrangents.
He and Salvatore held the Philosopher’s Stone and possessed the strongest burst power for a short duration. Along with Eleven, the most defensive, and Old Goose, the most balanced and stable, these four would be responsible for guarding the pregnant woman.
On the other hand, Kafney had a robust non-lethal control ability against people. With Kid’s ability to manipulate and alter the terrain, and Jiu’er, who could beco a crazed attack dog with infinite revival, they were not lacking in sieging power.
anwhile, the bishop and Kafney held higher positions, and Jiu’er and Kid were good at chatting. They could fend off outsiders and control the "current Notre Da" from within, keeping him from leaving the house all day.
Annan and the bishop both had the ability to strike Spiritual Bodies, which would protect against the possibility of the Rotting Husband Church summoning Spiritual Bodies; players were on both sides, and they could also communicate across distances via forums.
Arranging things this way was the best scenario Annan could think of.
No matter which side faced that silver-tier, top-level monster, they wouldn’t be completely defenseless.
And Transcendent players who had activated infinite revival could resist the ordinary minions.
As long as they could hold out, the other side could provide tily support.
... It looked very secure from every angle.
"But what am I forgetting..."
Annan furrowed his brows slightly.
He always felt like he had overlooked sothing sowhere.
"If you can’t rember, then stop thinking about it and adapt as things happen—we’ve got the Philosopher’s Stone, after all. And according to you, Teacher Benjamin is likely to help at any mont. He wouldn’t just stand by and watch the ritual fail."
Salvatore turned another page of his book under the dim lighting, gave Annan a glance, and said indifferently, "You better get so sleep, you have to get up early tomorrow."
"Alright then, goodnight."
Annan humd a response and burrowed into the blankets.
With great self-discipline, he forced himself to stop thinking and fell asleep in a very short ti.
When Annan groggily awoke...
He glanced out the window.
He suddenly realized sothing was amiss—
With his precise biological clock, he didn’t need to look at a watch to roughly determine that it should be about 5:30 in the morning.
—So then.
What was "that" outside the window?
He saw a blood-red sun hanging in the sky.
It wasn’t the golden sun encircled by three hollow rings—Annan had long since learned that the golden sun was a symbol of Mr. Radiance.
But the "sun" outside the window now was like the sunset back on Earth.
It was surrounded not by any runes or circles, but enshrouded in a thin layer of golden light.
This light only covered its surroundings; beyond that was a thick ring of darkness.
And beyond that—
Was an overwhelming, deep blood-red color covering the sky.
Not just the sky.
The entire street was enveloped in this exceedingly abnormal scarlet hue.
The next mont, Annan suddenly heard a deep, faint drumming sound.
It bood like thunder.
Resonating from all directions.
About nine seconds later, that strange low-pitched noise sounded again.
Annan listened closely, sowhat surprised to find...
It seed to be coming from his own heart.
Or rather.
The thunderous drumming seed to be coming from the entire city... or at least from the chests of everyone on the street!
"...What is this?"
Is this... a ritual of the Rotting Husband Church?
Or is it Michelangelo’s ritual?
Annan’s expression turned serious.
He didn’t care about the chill air beyond the blankets, and imdiately jumped out of bed, hurriedly getting dressed in a very short ti.
Rushing to Salvatore’s room, Annan hesitated for a mont, his steps faltering.
...Should he call for Salvatore?
If the ceremony had already started—no matter which side had begun, it might be too late to go back and call for Salvatore.
But what if this was just a prelude?
While Annan was pondering, an extrely tired-looking Salvatore opened the door, yawning and hastily throwing on a coat.
He saw Annan standing at the doorway, frowned slightly, "Why didn’t you call ?"
"...It’s nothing."
Annan discarded those wild thoughts and nodded to Salvatore, "Good, you’re awake.
"What ritual is this?"
"Let’s talk on the way—"
Salvatore grabbed his briefcase, answering briefly, "Grab all your things!
"We’re heading to Clearwater Street first!"
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