Whose finger is this? The patrol team's? Yes, it's the patrol team member's finger. There's no one else here, was it still Mr. Parish's guess that it was the military? Doesn't matter. Another person is dead—whose fault is it? Right, it's mine. I took Elikrom's Fang and woke the nightmare. They were originally deeper underground, right? I buried them there, didn't I...?
Arthur's eyes were hollow as he stared blankly at the stone wall with the outstretched finger. Parish almost turned into a corpse right in front of him, the red-skinned orcs he encountered earlier, and now the patrol team member's finger. In less than an hour, twelve-year-old Arthur had suffered psychological blows from terror at least three times, which felt different from the trauma he experienced in Green Village years ago. Perhaps witnessing someone's death with his own eyes had a different impact.
Parish just wanted to leave quickly. He was about to drag Arthur back to the wooden stairs, but Arthur remained frozen, unresponsive. Parish noticed the stone tunnel that had become a wall and the finger that was still reaching out with a strong desire to survive.
This is also the power of Elikrom's Fang, isn't it? Even in the dream, it can change the terrain. Parish hadn't had much contact with Elikrom, the leader of the werewolf tribe, only knowing that he was known for his indestructible claws and ability to manipulate people's hearts. Even the relics left behind are so powerful. How was this god killed by a nature mage who initially mastered natural forces?
There's no time to think about it further. Staying here for another second in the cave felt suffocating. But Arthur remained still, and Parish had to speak up. "Hebrew, we should leave. You don't want to stay here with these... things, do you?"
Arthur's body didn't move, but he muttered something under his breath.
Parish hesitated, wondering if he should forcefully drag Arthur away. When he got closer, he could hear Arthur repeating the same phrase. "I killed them, it's all my fault."
Parish froze, shaking Arthur's shoulder a few times. When he still didn't respond, Parish gave him a hard slap across the face. Arthur's eyes finally regained their shine. Arthur looked up at Parish, confused. "Sir, did I kill someone?"
Parish crouched down, thought for a moment, and then embraced Arthur with open arms. "No, child. It's not your fault. It's mine. I brought you here. I'm sorry." His voice was calm and gentle, and his arms held Arthur firmly. In the underground of the Rose Manor, Parish had to use this method to calm Arthur.
Arthur buried his head into Parish's shoulder, unwilling to look back at the death-laden stone wall.
"Let's get out of here, child." Parish placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders, trying to smile and ease the tension. Arthur bit his lip, nodded, and let Parish lead him back to the wooden stairs.
Once the power of Elikrom's Fang faded, only one entrance remained—leading from the open space by the wooden stairs to where the corpses were located. Parish led Arthur through the wooden door and back to the surface.
The breeze lifted their spirits a bit. The two mansions next to Rose Manor had their lights off, but judging by the lights still on in the main streets, it seemed that the Enforcement Bureau had set up checkpoints along the north district's roads, indicating that Night Hawk hadn't been caught. This was something they could relax about for now.
Parish looked around. Noticing no sign of surveillance from the Rose Manor or nearby mansions, he led Arthur behind the manor.
They couldn't see the path underfoot, nor could they casually use the light balls they had prepared. Parish had to carefully step forward, letting his feet feel for each movement. Darkness easily led people into fantasies of the unknown, but the rustling of grass underfoot reminded them of their position.
Another gust of wind passed over Parish's hair, and he suddenly felt something was wrong. The wind brushed past the tips of his hair without moving the grass around him. Was this normal? Earlier, the slightest brush had caused the grass to make sounds, yet now, the wind didn't stir it.
Was it a natural anomaly, caused by a wind mage? The most troublesome type of mage, he wondered if it was a hidden weapon from Brighton City's official organization. Lost in such thoughts, Parish and Arthur reached the fence where they had climbed over earlier. He touched it—it had already been knocked to the ground by some force and felt moist. If it weren't for the two corpses in the cave, Parish could have smelled the pungent scent of blood.
Arthur sensed Parish's unease and was about to ask when Parish suddenly crouched down, pulling Arthur down with him into the grass.
A beam of light suddenly shone on their location. It wasn't very strong, just enough to see someone's position. This was a modified version of a goblin light ball—without the glass ball, a long tube gathered and focused the light, creating a searchlight effect. The light ball inside contained glowing grass that only glowed at night. It could live for three to four years as long as it was fed regularly. The beam of light came from the main street of Rose Manor, accompanied by loud voices. It seemed that the Enforcement Bureau had found Rose Manor. Normally, they wouldn't bring a long-range searchlight to such an uninhabited place on a moonless night.
Something had definitely happened here. Parish confirmed his suspicions, and the battle was likely between Night Hawk and an unknown wind mage.
The light had already led the Enforcement Bureau team to the ruins of the main building, and Parish whispered, "Hebrew, when I give the signal, you run home immediately."
Arthur, still a bit dazed, nodded in agreement at Parish's authoritative tone. Parish muttered to himself, snapping his fingers. The grass around them began to exude water droplets.
"Now, Hebrew, run!"
Parish's hands turned to liquid, gathering the water droplets into a ball. As he stood up, he hurled the water ball towards the light column. Arthur scrambled through the grass, making his way toward the small path. The grass ahead, near the path, bent in various directions—a sign of wind magic. But Arthur couldn't focus on that now. Parish clearly intended to hold off the Enforcement Bureau's search so Arthur could escape first. Staying behind would only be a burden.
The water ball hit the light column at high speed, and the light ball inside went out as the glowing grass inside stopped moving and drooped like it had lost its life. Darkness fell again.
Parish didn't rush to flee. He didn't know which squad of the Enforcement Bureau was out there. If it was the Eagle Squad, running recklessly would expose his back to them.
"If only it were raining. Then I could show them the power of a water mage. But right now, I'm as useless as garbage…"
Parish mockingly self-criticized, but his hands didn't stop. He kept using his liquid arms to scatter water droplets into the air, which suspended in mid-air. This was the water mage's rare and powerful attack spell, "Starting from the Aberration."
Parish extended his arm again, pointing toward the ruins of Rose Manor. The suspended water droplets had a direction now, and they shot out like arrows toward the ruins. A series of agonized screams followed as the Enforcement Bureau's team was struck by the water mage's attack, casualties unknown.
"Starting from the Aberration." Sweat beaded on Parish's forehead, but a smile played at the corner of his lips. Now they could safely escape.