134 The True Evil Spirit (4100)

That night was destined to be extraordinary.

News of the three great powers confronting the Sacred Flame Society head-on spread across the entire East Coast, reaching every supernatural faction in large and small cities alike. What shocked all forces was the Sacred Flame Society’s defeat.

The three great powers dealt the Sacred Flame Society a heavy blow.

Nearly one-third of the low-level secret circle warriors of the Nylodo branch of the Sacred Flame Society perished, and the casualties among the higher ranks were also significant.

Moreover, the famed Captain of the Black Flower Combat Task Force, a Crimson Gold at the peak of the second circle, suffered severe injuries in the battle, losing the use of both arms.

The hope of further advancement was nearly extinguished.

Upon receiving the intelligence, various organizations and powers mobilized their contacts to investigate the details of the battle.

Detailed profiles and photographs of the eighth high-ranking member of the Golden Spiral Organization appeared on the desks of influential figures, making many remember this name.

“Knight!”

United States of Agari, West Coast.

This was a small town nestled within a forest, its buildings showing signs of age. The once pristine white walls had dulled to gray, covered in creeping vines.

Colin Town, a remote township on the West Coast.

It was an area of beautiful surroundings and tranquility, ideal for tourism, settlement, and convalescence. Colin once boasted many hotels and sanatoriums.

However, over the past decade, rapid urban development and the rise of more accessible towns in the tourism industry diminished Colin’s advantages, leading to its gradual decline.

Young people left in droves for more conveniently connected, better-equipped, and bustling cities. Those who remained were mostly elderly with limited mobility or occasional tourists.

In the town’s northwest corner stood an aging sanatorium, over thirty years old.

Virginia creeper vines covered an entire wall.

Yet the courtyard’s weeds had been thoroughly cleared, and the pathways and gate tidied up.

The dilapidated walls had been roughly repaired and repainted white.

Several months ago, a doctor from another city arrived and opened a clinic in this abandoned sanatorium.

The mayor welcomed him warmly, as Colin no longer had any doctors, and with a predominantly elderly population, emergencies requiring transfer to the city would be too late.

Having a doctor on site was a precaution.

After months of work, Dr. Charlie performed admirably and was highly skilled.

The only puzzling aspect was that Dr. Charlie rarely left his home, always staying indoors. During consultations, he wore heavy clothing from head to toe, leaving no skin exposed, lending him an inexplicable aura of mystery.

It was said that Dr. Charlie suffered from a skin disease and was particularly sensitive to sunlight.

A cold wind rustled the treetops, leaves whispering softly.

On the sanatorium’s third floor, a faint orange-yellow light glowed from one room, where a figure sat by the window.

From the reflected shadow, it seemed Dr. Charlie was studying late into the night.

Suddenly, a harsh cawing of crows sounded outside.

An unpleasant, desolate cry.

The figure by the window suddenly opened it.

Swiftly, a shadow darted inside.

“Leader! Here is the intelligence you ordered collected…”

A gray-haired man knelt respectfully, slowly handing over a black envelope.

A gloved hand reached out. Between the glove and sleeve emerged a sliver of snow-white skin marred by a black, scar-like pattern that writhed grotesquely.

A person cloaked entirely in black robes sat silently, leafing through the letter and absorbing its contents.

The paper listed several lengthy sections:

[Discovery from the Tuckas Era Ruins in the Biss Mountains]

[The Nashemi cult’s resurgence; Pope Sebal Juan has consecutively killed three Ascendants, suspected to be at the fourth circle]

[In southern Agari, near the Kana Forest, a large-scale blood sacrifice occurred; at least five hundred confirmed dead, a thousand missing. This event is linked to the approaching miracle creature, the Onyx Crimson Elephant, and likely not caused by other supernatural factions]

[East Coast, the Sacred Flame Society’s second largest branch, Nylodo, engaged in a fierce battle with three local factions; Nylodo suffered heavy losses, opponents used an unknown type of bomb]

The robed figure scanned each paragraph. The paper instantly turned to ash.

“One in the east, two in the south, two in the west, and possibly one in the center… just within the Agari Federation, there are so many miracle creatures. The whole world must have even more. The rate of collapse is truly alarming…”

A deep sigh emanated from beneath the black robe.

The kneeling man remained silent. It was best not to disturb the leader while he pondered.

Otherwise, one might suffer a terrible fate.

Outside, the cold wind swept in waves through the study, rustling books and papers on the desk.

“Issue orders: mobilize half the organization’s personnel to the Kana Forest! The rules affect reality; the next miracle creature, the Onyx Crimson Elephant, will undoubtedly appear there…”

“Yes.”

“Go. Relay the information to Dead Blade and the others…”

After a pause, the robed figure added solemnly,

“I must stay here a little longer—at least six months. The experiments cannot be interrupted…”

“Understood!”

The man nodded heavily and rose.

In an instant, he dashed through the window like a bat, gliding into the night and disappearing deep within the forest.

The study window creaked shut.

The robed figure stood quietly for a moment, then turned off the light and walked to the sanatorium’s basement.

He gently triggered a hidden switch in a dark corner.

The wall suddenly cracked open, and he entered.

A spiral staircase led downward, growing colder with each step. A thin layer of frost coated the metal handrail; his breath emerged in white puffs.

Yet the robed figure seemed unaffected, as if not breathing. No mist escaped beneath his cloak.

After descending an unknown depth, he stopped before a vast hall illuminated by a ring of lights on the walls.

The hall was filled with dense arrays of rune models—hundreds, even thousands, of lifelike figures floating silently.

At the center of this sea of models stood a huge crystal device filled with viscous green liquid.

In its core was an oval, hollow crystal sphere, connected to a web of metallic pipes extending outward in all directions like spider webs.

These pipes sprawled across the floor, linking to every rune model.

To the naked eye, these well-developed models were subtly changing—each pattern coated in gold, structures shifting ever so slightly.

“Too slow… it will take at least half a year. One isn’t enough…” the robed figure muttered.

He walked through a narrow passage to the center.

Placing a hand on the crystal sphere, it instantly shifted from translucent to clear, revealing its contents.

Inside, suspended in the viscous liquid, a golden eagle lay asleep with wings spread.

Though its eyes were closed, the golden feathers bore countless pupils staring fixedly at the robed figure.

Each pupil contained a golden vortex capable of pulling anyone gazed upon into an abyss.

A low hum resonated.

Suddenly, the robed figure was engulfed in darkness, as if the surrounding space had slipped into an unknown dimension.

Silent, eerie, dim.

Then—

Numerous golden eyes snapped open, densely encircling the figure.

From every direction, golden beams shot forth.

Yet the figure struck by the beams exploded like foam, leaving only a tattered black robe behind.

In reality, a slender silhouette reappeared.

Fixing a faint smile on the golden eagle within the crystal, he said,

“Still unruly when sealed… Your power must be nearly drained. Now, be obedient and let yourself be fully absorbed. The rules require no consciousness…”

A pure white palm gently pressed down.

*************

Days passed swiftly.

By the calendar, the day of the legendary miracle creature, the Nightshade Crow, drew ever closer.

The Sacred Flame Society and the three great powers grew increasingly antagonistic.

Their subordinates frequently clashed and fought.

Usually, the Sacred Flame Society suppressed the three factions, but now the situation had shifted significantly.

The three powers had gained certain advantages, and the Sacred Flame’s control was steadily shrinking.

Their controlled urban areas had drastically decreased and were now fewer than those held collectively by the three factions.

All this traced back to the four-way battle several days prior, where the Sacred Flame Society suffered a heavy loss, with at least a third of their forces diminished.

In the past, reinforcements could be promptly supplied.

But now, with global turmoil, the Sacred Flame’s headquarters could spare no additional troops, leaving the Nylodo branch to operate independently.

As the Sacred Flame’s influence contracted, these vacuums were swiftly occupied by the three great powers, with the Golden Spiral Organization benefiting most, annexing many territories—including some industrial and residential districts in the northern suburbs.

Recently, the Golden Spiral Organization, closely monitoring unusual activity near Nylodo, received reports of strange occurrences in the northern suburbs, said to be hauntings.

The town of Tout in the northern suburbs experienced the highest frequency of ghost sightings.

An abandoned church there was often haunted, with two people having vanished inside.

This issue had existed even before the Violet Wisteria Villa battle, but the Golden Spiral Organization had been preparing for war and intended to take over territories and factions after victory.

Hence, the matter remained unresolved.

Even now, many high-ranking members were tied up, stationed across the vast area centered on Nylodo.

Leader Bai Yan was recovering from injuries; Xiu Nan conducted experiments in the lab.

Only the Black Knight handled numerous affairs.

It was not until today that he found some free time.

In the evening, he led a small team toward the northern suburbs.

On the highway, two cars sped along.

In the comfortable rear seat, the Black Knight reviewed reports, glancing at the subordinate driving ahead.

“No results after two reconnaissance missions?”

“Yes. Our people stayed overnight but found nothing unusual. Yet, after our investigations, there were still reports of ghostly phenomena…”

The driver spoke as he drove.

“Could it be a prank?”

The Black Knight frowned.

“Unlikely. Our people searched the entire church—it’s been abandoned for a long time. At least ten years have passed with no human presence…”

The subordinate relayed every detail known.

“Interesting… could there truly be spirits or monsters?”

The Black Knight momentarily entertained the thought, then shook his head.

He found it more plausible that this was a form of supernatural phenomenon.

After all, with miracle creatures soon to appear, such anomalies were expected.

Alternatively, it could be the work of a supernatural user—someone manipulating events from the shadows.

Though the Black Knight had never encountered another soul manipulator like Bai Yan, it was impossible to rule out the existence of similar abilities.

After all, supernatural awakenings varied wildly.

Lost in thought, the convoy swiftly reached its destination.

The town was somewhat dilapidated.

The roads were riddled with potholes, flanked by low walls.

Weeds grew along the roadside, and wild cats prowled the walls.

The convoy avoided contact with locals, driving straight up the slope toward the low hills behind the town.

Dusk had fallen, casting dim light.

Half the sky glowed orange-red, like burning embers.

The convoy crested the slope, surrounded by thick woodlands.

In the distance, beside the low hills, stood a crumbling spired church.

Its gray walls had collapsed, revealing a vast tangle of weeds inside.

The steeple still towered high but most of its decorative features had fallen away.

Like a water-stained oil painting, the colors had faded and blurred, the overall hue a grim black.

With a screech, the two cars stopped on a nearby clearing, crushing the weeds and clearing space.

The Black Knight and five subordinates stepped out briskly.

“No one’s been here for a very long time…” the Black Knight noted, quickly surveying the scene before donning his wide-brimmed hat.

Straight ahead, the church’s main doors stood wide open, the path swallowed by knee-high wild grass.

The church itself was heavily faded, exposing the dark underlying material.

Empty window holes howled with cold wind, black and eerie.

“The Modire Church has a history of over a hundred years,” one subordinate who had visited before explained. “It was once a large, historic church but was abandoned for some reason…”

He asked locals about the cause, but they refused to say.

The sky darkened as the sun steadily set.

“Alright, let’s go inside and take a look.”

Just as the Black Knight moved forward, a chill ran down his spine.

A cold gaze was fixed upon him!

He snapped his head up.

At a third-floor window of the church, a white-clad shadow flickered by—fleeting, like a hallucination.

“Interesting!”

The Black Knight’s eyes turned icy.

A withered hand reached from behind, adjusting his slightly askew hat.

“I want to see who the true evil spirit is…”