Rose School of Thought
"Forehead"
The flattened Werewolf murmured incoherently, its expression a mixture of terror and despair. Its once-proud vitality had become Curse, causing it constant agony. The loss of its limbs, the extreme distension of its stomach, and above all, the despair of its predicament, were pushing it to the brink of mental collapse.
"Who are you? Who sent you here?"
"That's what the person who made him who he is now asked."
"Waaah"
The Werewolf howled incessantly; the reflection of the Crimson Moon made it resemble a wild beast, completely unable to understand human language.
"Not going to talk? No, it seems there's no way to talk about it."
Luther looked down at it, observing its current state, and said thoughtfully. Then he reached out and touched the Werewolf's thick, furry head.
"Bang!"
From a distance, Cons heard a sharp crack and saw a small firework explode from the Werewolf's head. Red and white matter flew everywhere, and the limbless body twitched slightly before going still.
The terrifying Monster that had driven him to the brink of despair was killed so easily.
Captain Levi, you were right.
Clutching his bleeding stomach, Cons once again thought to himself sincerely. Regret surged up until the man in the red robe turned to look at him, at which point fear replaced it.
He's coming!
Cons felt a chill run down his spine, his scalp tingling. But his injured body couldn't support any more violent reactions, and the Werewolf's fate clearly reminded him of the price of resistance.
MI9?
He heard the other person ask this so casually.
"Yes."
Cons forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and nodded.
He dared not lie to such a powerful extraordinary being; if he were exposed, he might end up like that Werewolf.
What are you doing here?
"Investigation. [Blood Bishop]."
The moment Cons uttered those words, he suddenly understood something.
Flesh and Blood Magic, powerful extraordinary beings, and connections to this neighborhood.
The person in front of us is very likely the [Blood Bishop] that MI9 is looking for!
But after figuring this out, he felt even more terrified; the other party's power far exceeded his imagination. He, a mere Sequence 9, actually dared to think of investigating the other party and making a name for himself. Just as Mr. Levi said, he was courting death.
"[Blood Bishop]?"
This was the second time Luther had heard this name; it seemed to be a title that MI9 had given themselves.
He thought for a moment and then asked, "What happened to you just now?"
Cons dared not be negligent and could only recount his experience, how he infiltrated the factory, how he encountered the Werewolf, and how he was no match for them in battle.
Luther seemed to be deep in thought.
The sudden Crimson Moon drove the Werewolf into a frenzy, unleashing a killing spree and attacking my Lamb. Wait, why did the Werewolf infiltrate my factory before that? The Crimson Moon was merely a coincidence, but beyond that, the Werewolf's appearance was deliberate!
Just then, he suddenly felt the color of the moonlight fade, from crimson to pale red.
The Crimson Moon is over.
Turning my head, I saw that the Werewolf's corpse had changed. Its thick black fur gradually receded, its nails and teeth retracted, and its swollen muscles subsided. It was no longer a beast; apart from lacking a head and limbs, it was not much different from an ordinary human.
It's unclear how these extraordinary individuals Pathway, but the Crimson Moon seems to have a very strong influence on them.
Luther walked back to the corpse and opened his palm.
"Call--"
The bone-chilling wind seemed to freeze the soul, and the swirling wind forcibly extracted the soul from the corpse!
The soul had a vague appearance, roughly resembling a thin but robust man with extremely short hair that stood up like sharp thorns.
There was no vacancy left in Luther's body, and besides, this Werewolf was probably only around Sequence 7, not very strong. He didn't intend to let the Grazing, but rather to extract its soul for Spirit Channeling to obtain more information.
"No!"
The Werewolf struggled in the howling wind, but it was powerless to resist the "Shepherd's " control. It was bitten hard by the illusory mouth in Luther's palm, letting out a miserable scream.
Before he could make his next move, he raised his hand, and Cons, who was watching from the sidelines, immediately noticed that the shadow beneath him had suddenly come to life and surrounded him. Before he could even scream, he was completely enveloped and cut off from the outside world.
Only after blocking Cons did Luther continue his actions.
He pulled two candles from his robes, lit them, and then used the Werewolf's blood to draw a strange symbol on the ground. It was a pattern composed of pupil-less eyes and Contorted Lines, pointing to the mysterious being, the Fool.
Luther was to perform Ritual, praying to Mr. Fool for power to Spirit Channeling the Werewolf's soul.
A phantom M appeared behind him, its hands plunging into his head, creating Virtual Personality for him that was independent of the Tide.
"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era."
Having completed these preparations, Luther prayed in a low Hermes, reciting the Honorific Name of the Fool.
Praying to me in the middle of the night? Who is this?!
Meanwhile, Klein, who was sleeping at home, was awakened by a series of prayers and opened his eyes with annoyance. He took four steps backward in his bedroom and headed towards the Above the Gray Fog.
He saw that the Red Star belonging to Temperance was shining.
Luther needs to talk to me?
Klein became more serious, extending his Spirituality, connecting with the stars, and learning what Luther was doing.
Through his prayers, Klein's Consciousness reached the skies above Luther and saw the situation inside the factory.
How tragic! Was this worker murdered?
Holy crap! That extraordinary one died even more horribly; Luther really went all out.
While mentally criticizing similar topics, he extended his Spirituality and used the high status of the Gray Fog to control the soul of that extraordinary being.
Luther could feel that the soul in his palm had suddenly become docile, its expression blank and unfocused.
The Fool's power worked.
Seeing this, he immediately asked:
What's your name?
"Tyre."
"Where are you from?"
"The Rose School of Thought"
The Werewolf answered in a muffled voice.
The Rose School of Thought?
That organization known for its bloody rituals
Luther quickly recalled the Extraordinary's internal information. This organization was born in the early Fifth Epoch, even older than the Aurora Order. The sect advocated Indulgence and madness, and created many extreme events, but more specific information was unclear.
Why did you come here?
Luther continued to ask.
The Werewolf Tyre's expression showed struggle, but he still answered:
"Mr. Steve sent me here to do a small favor for the followers of our sect, Count Andes."