Over the next few days, Bruce spent most of his time shuttling between two places. After going to Rhode Town to handle the paperwork, he stayed at the Wind-Cutting Swordsmanship Club to study swordsmanship. In the afternoon, he returned to the manor to study the swordsmanship notes, then spent his evenings holed up in the study, learning other things.
Inheriting Wayne Manor's assets was, without a doubt, an incredibly tedious affair. There were all sorts of formalities to complete, and he was not even allowed to finish them all in one go.
Learning swordsmanship was simpler by comparison.
The fundamentals of swordsmanship were neither particularly elaborate nor endlessly complicated. All they required was persistence and dedicated practice.
Besides the fundamentals taught at the Wind-Cutting Swordsmanship Club, Bruce also studied the swordsmanship notes in the manor. He practiced every slash, chop, upward cut, and thrust. Once he mastered the basics, he could confidently use those sword moves without worrying about injuring himself.
Bruce had also told Danvers that he was learning swordsmanship. She fully supported him and praised his eagerness to learn, saying he would surely become an excellent swordsman.
Watching Bruce practice at the manor, Danvers could not help recalling her childhood. Back then, her father had often demonstrated swordsmanship for her, his movements graceful and fluid. In Bruce, she seemed to glimpse her father's shadow.
Though Bruce's movements were still stiff and clumsy, he practiced with great concentration.
Besides practicing swordsmanship and broadening his knowledge, there was another matter Bruce constantly kept in mind.
The Dark Bible sealed in the basement.
Swordsmanship merely trained the body. Unless a swordsman was an Extraordinary, even the most exquisite swordsmanship would crumble before extraordinary power. That power was the true foundation of survival, and Bruce firmly believed it. Naturally, he was determined to obtain the Dark Bible, which recorded so many extraordinary powers.
With Danvers always at home, Bruce had been unable to investigate the basement. If anything unusual happened, he would have no way to explain it to her. More importantly, if the Night Watchers of the Goddess of the Night Church noticed anything, it would be best not to implicate the innocent Danvers during their interrogation.
Ghost had suggested knocking Danvers unconscious, something it was good at, but Bruce had refused.
That afternoon, after training at the swordsmanship club ended for the time being, Bruce returned home from Rhode Town and found a note Danvers had left, held down on the table in the hall.
It said she was going to a ball in Rhode Town and would return late.
The daily lives of wealthy merchants and nobles always revolved around dinners and balls, particularly their daughters, who attended such events constantly.
Just as Bruce was about to head upstairs, Ghost floated down.
"There's no one else in the manor. Want to take a look in the basement? I think you might find something if you go."
Danvers was away. Now was the perfect time.
A flicker of excitement stirred in Bruce's heart, and the urge to explore the basement immediately took hold.
"Let's bring Fawcett along too."
Bruce opened the door leading to the basement.
Truth be told, he would have been rather afraid to go down there late at night, especially with two somewhat terrifying-looking extraordinary creatures following him.
He had already had copies made of every key in Wayne Manor, including the basement key.
Danvers had also mentioned that the basement had been neglected for a long time. It had always served as a storage room, and no one had gone down to clean it in ages.
As he opened the basement door, the draft stirred up dust that made Bruce choke. He hurriedly covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve.
Clearly, no one had visited the basement in a long time. Dust had piled up on the floor and in every crevice.
Bruce switched on the basement light. It flickered between light and darkness, lending the room an even more sinister, eerie atmosphere. He surveyed the basement.
The basement was spacious, but there was little clutter, only a pile of broken tables, chairs, and cardboard boxes. The four walls were bare, with patches of white paint peeling away. In the center stood a raised rectangular stone block.
Bruce ran his fingers over the rectangular stone block, coating them in dust. There were holes at its corners and along its edges, presumably for threading ropes through.
"What was this stone table used for?"
Bruce asked curiously. Did people eat down here?
"This place was once used for human sacrifices," Ghost replied.
Bruce lifted his hand and awkwardly rubbed his fingers together, shaking off the dust. This had actually been a place of sacrifice-and human sacrifice at that. That was rather horrifying.
"When I came into contact with the Dark Bible, the images it showed me included scenes of sacrifices here. They must have happened a long time ago."
Ghost pointed at the stone block.
Looking at its construction, Bruce could more or less imagine someone lying on it, their body bound and restrained with ropes, covered in strange runes as they struggled in agony. The thought alone sent a chill through him.
It felt as though the basement were filled with the souls of those who had died in torment, perhaps watching him even now. Bruce stole a few nervous glances around.
"There are no other ghosts here. I've already checked. The only extraordinary creatures currently in the manor are Fawcett and me." Ghost had noticed Bruce's furtive movements and knew what was on his mind.
Hearing that, Bruce breathed a sigh of relief. At present, the stone block held nothing but cardboard boxes full of odds and ends. There was nothing to be afraid of.
"Is the Dark Bible hidden inside it?"
Bruce looked over the stone block, but found no hidden compartment on its surface or underneath it.
"No, the Dark Bible is hidden inside this wall."
Ghost floated over to the wall facing the stone block, which looked smooth and ordinary.
Though it appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary white wall, now that Ghost had mentioned it, Bruce really did feel there was something unusual about it. An indescribable sensation lingered in his heart.
Was it just in my head?
The Dark Bible had actually been hidden inside the wall, presumably through some special extraordinary means. Since it had been fused into the wall, it was only natural for the wall to seem unusual.
Bruce instinctively reached out and touched it.
The instant his fingers touched the wall, an inexplicable force struck him-or, more precisely, slammed into his brain. His vision blurred at once. The wall spun and twisted, and the world reeled around him.
Bruce collapsed to the floor.
A bottomless well, heart-wrenching screams, and the cries of children.
Eerie sounds, terrifying images, and all manner of indescribable things flashed through Bruce's mind. These sounds and images of unknown origin did not merely ring in his ears and appear before his eyes. They echoed and materialized in the depths of his soul.
"Hozniya... Hozniya... give it back... give it back..."
Bruce clutched his head as broken whispers sounded in his ears. He felt as though his brain were being torn apart, as though countless ants were gnawing at it, frenzied and excited, eager to feast.
"What's happening?!"
Bruce was stunned. Simply touching the wall had caused this upheaval. His head felt ready to burst.
"Breakthrough!"