The sky had descended into night. On a moonless night, everyone in Brighton City tried to stay home—a rule silently abided by its residents. The last wave of workers rushed home in carriages from the various streets, and even the number of vagrants wandering around had dwindled.
It was already 10:30 PM. At the northern district's entrance, a scholar and a child casually approached the Manchester Quill Shop, leading a blue-furred dog. This shop, which crafted custom quills for the aristocracy, belonged to an old friend of Mrs. Lily.
The shop had long since closed; its business hours were from 9 AM the next day. That was exactly what Parish and Arthur needed. The blue-furred dog spun in a circle on the spot. After confirming no one from the Enforcer's headquarters next door was coming out, it stood upright on its hind legs. With a series of creaking sounds, its bones shifted, its frame grew larger, and it reverted to its wolf form.
Night Hawk stretched his limbs, his body stiff from not transforming in a long time. "Alright, you have half an hour. I'll leave first when the time's up. Once you're done, head to Tapler Street; the Enforcers won't dare search there."
Parish nodded, pulling a wire out of his chest pocket. Under Arthur's astonished gaze, he deftly inserted it into the lock below the door handle. Night Hawk, on the other hand, showed no particular emotion. His gaze remained focused on the northern district's entrance, tense. Wizards weren't invincible, and neither was Parish's Mirror World. The Enforcers had numerous methods to counter wizards. Four years ago, Parish had avoided tangling with the Enforcers too much. Even so, he left badly injured. Now, prying open a lock right next to their headquarters was nerve-wracking for Night Hawk.
With a click, Parish pushed the door open. After nodding at Night Hawk, he pulled Arthur into the quill shop. Once the door was shut, Night Hawk heard the sound of military boots clattering on the cobblestones of the northern district. It was the signature footwear of the Enforcers' patrol units. Stretching lazily, Night Hawk howled into the sky.
"What was that noise?!" Hearing the wolf's howl, the Enforcers' Dog Team Squad 2 rushed over, surrounding Night Hawk at the northern district's entrance. Their standard equipment consisted of short clubs, and they wore black-and-white uniforms, slowly closing in on Night Hawk.
"Mr. Werewolf, under the Beast Integration Act, engaging in animalistic behavior at night is prohibited. Please produce your integration permit," said a squad member wearing a black satin top hat as he approached Night Hawk. He trusted that Night Hawk wouldn't dare cause trouble right in front of the Enforcers' headquarters. What he miscalculated was that Night Hawk's goal was precisely to attract the entire Enforcer force. Before the squad member could get within half a meter of Night Hawk, five claw marks inexplicably appeared on his body. Night Hawk licked the blood on his claws, looking playfully at the man slowly kneeling to the ground.
The other squad members panicked. Some blew whistles, others shouted "Enemy attack!" Chaos ensued on their home turf. Night Hawk sneered and let out a second howl, signaling Arthur and Parish inside the quill shop to act. Meanwhile, he bolted towards another route leading to the noble district, heading deeper into the aristocratic area to divert the patrols of the Human Alliance.
More Enforcers emerged from the headquarters, but these were clearly different, wielding rifles and exuding a calm demeanor compared to the panicked Dog Team. These were members of the Hawk Team and Bear Team. The chaos deepened; many mansions and estates that had extinguished their lights reignited their oil lamps. Night Hawk howled and raced through the streets, pursued by the Enforcers.
Parish leaned against the door, waiting for the noise outside to subside. Gesturing to Arthur, he pointed to a window at the back of the quill shop, indicating it as their escape route. Upon entering earlier, Arthur had noticed the shop had no rear door, only a window leading to Rose Manor's side path. The window opened inward. Parish lifted it, letting Arthur climb out first. He glanced back to check the front door before following.
The entire northern district was on high alert. A dangerous werewolf rampaged through its streets, activating the district's full security force. During this critical period of war, the appearance of such a creature deep within Brighton City inevitably raised suspicions. Even Edwards was alarmed, summoning his militia to seal off nearby streets.
"A beastman attacking the northern district now?" Edwards stood at his bedroom's floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze drifting towards the direction of the burned-down Rose Manor. "The target likely isn't there, but if it is, it must involve the wizard Rastel is chasing."
Alone in his room, Edwards didn't need to hide much. Throwing on a robe, he levitated into the air. On closer inspection, he stood on a spiraling current of wind.
"Let's take a look at Rose Manor." If the target was indeed Rose Manor, the patrols would surely be diverted. Edwards needed to act as the last line of defense. Who could have guessed that the seemingly civic-minded Lord of Brighton City was actually a wizard relentlessly pursued by humanity, living right under the Enforcers' noses in the northern district?
...
Rose Manor was now a charred ruin, overrun with weeds. Beneath its dilapidated walls lay the possible remains of Elikrom, the Great Wolf God.
At the estate's overgrown fence, Parish squeezed through two broken planks. Untouched for eleven years, the fence was entwined with vegetation. Parish struggled to break some of the tangled plants and stepped onto the once-pristine grounds of Rose Manor. Arthur had already entered, ignoring his torn clothes from the rigid branches, his eyes fixated on the blackened debris, imagining the manor's original grandeur.
Even with limited visibility in the dark, Arthur noticed an old swing set covered in moss amid the garden's remnants. A sudden wave of emotion overcame him, sensing the presence of familial love emanating from it.
Parish pushed through waist-high weeds and stood beside Arthur, silently waiting for his emotions to settle.
"Your parents, including your grandparents, were kind and radiant individuals," Parish said.
Arthur wiped away his tears, softly thanking him. With little time left in their half-hour, they needed to act quickly.
Now the question was: where would the Hebrew family hide their secret? A secret so elusive that the Human Alliance couldn't find it in eleven years.
"Mr. Parish, is it possible that our family doesn't have a secret at all?" Arthur cautiously asked, fearing Parish's answer. He didn't know what made Parish so certain there was a secret here. It was all hypothetical. What if the Hebrews didn't have anything to hide and the Human Alliance had been chasing shadows?
"Impossible. I considered the possibility before visiting the ruins of the Huston family, but the items they guarded didn't disappoint me. The Hebrew family, alongside the Hustons, is renowned among wizards. Your ancestors, especially him, must have something worth protecting. If it hasn't been found in eleven years, it can only be buried underground."
Underground? Arthur stomped on the weedy ground beneath him. Could the Hebrew family's secret be buried here?