The evening sky had been dyed into dark yellow velvet by countless glowing orange lights and mana supply towers. At the edge of the Ninth District, an abandoned clock tower stood like an island amid a sea of lights, shrouded in deep darkness. The whistle of an airship drifted down from high above, making the place seem even more desolate.
Two figures in pitch-black cloaks appeared beneath the clock tower's skeletal frame. Each stood within a patch of shadow, with only the distant halo of light falling between them like a lonely spotlight at the center of a stage.
"Bazel, your intelligence cost me a precious Gift." One of them sounded furious. If Ryan, the captured cultist, had been there, he would certainly have recognized this person as the superior who had granted him the Gift—the highest-ranking Eternal Night Apostle within the Eternal Night Conclave.
"I only gave you information. Your judgment was wrong, yet you came to question me? If you had used a top-tier Gift from the start, how could this accident have happened?" Bazel was a relatively slight figure in black robes. His voice was remarkably androgynous, clearly altered with some sort of voice-disguising technique.
"Do you think my supply of Gifts is endless?" Though his face could not be seen, it was obvious his expression must have been grim. "What about your poison? You were closer. Why didn't you act?"
"I used Frenzy Poison to draw their attention for you. That doesn't make it my obligation," Bazel said coldly. "Besides, my mission is far more important than yours."
The cloaked man took a deep breath and changed the subject. "Where is it?"
Something was tossed out from the shadows. The cloaked man caught it and found it was a scroll. Under the dim evening light, he