Feysac, Saint Millon, Tikhvin Public Cemetery.
Green honeysuckle grew sparsely across the dark soil, joining the gray stone headstones as accents in this monotonous setting. Tall birches stood beside the path, guarding the peace here.
Daly strolled through the cemetery.
She wore a long black dress and a black veil that concealed her conspicuous makeup. She looked like a widow on her way to pay respects to the dead.
As Daly walked, she discreetly surveyed her surroundings.
Unlike the graves in Loen, those in Feysac were noticeably larger, a difference inseparable from their people's greater stature. Beyond that, the most striking detail was the direction the graves faced-they all faced west.
It was dusk, and golden light filled the cemetery, freezing it into a magnificent tableau.
A special pattern gleamed on the headstones facing the setting sun. It was the God of Combat's emblem, formed from three crossed greatswords. Carved into a corner of each headstone, their grooves were filled with pigment, making them shine.
This might be an expression of their religious beliefs...
Daly thought silently.
Without slowing her steps, she scanned the cemetery, her gaze sweeping across the golden headstones as though searching for something.
The magnificent sight lasted only briefly. As dusk faded, darkness swallowed the place bit by bit, quickly lending the entire cemetery a sinister air. Cold death took hold, and countless pairs of eyes seemed to lurk in the shadows, hungering for the living. Yet Daly felt no fear of this terrifying atmosphere. She walked among death, blending into the darkness.
At last, she found her target.
"Viscount Kozlov Mikhail, died two weeks ago. This should be the one."
The viscount had given Princess Sophia considerable support during his life, only to die suddenly in a bizarre coincidence recently.
The grave before her had