Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

"This is truly unfortunate news... So, could you assist by delivering this money to Mr. Lemer's family? I believe they must be in need of it."

Though Shard was aware Mrs. Lemer's commission raised no issues, he didn't forget to keep up his act. As he anticipated, Mr. Drell waved him off:

"I know there is a distant relative of Lemer's in Tobesk who can inherit the estate, but only the lawyer knows the exact address. Since he has sadly passed away, I think there's no need to return this money."

Mr. Drell, who had been old friends with Mr. Lemer for many years, sounded somewhat sentimental as he spoke.

After offering a few comforting words with feigned enthusiasm, Mr. Drell fetched some wine glasses and a bottle of red wine, and shared a drink with Shard. As they clinked glasses, they jointly wished that the soul of Mr. Lemer, buried at sea, may rest in peace.

Having achieved his objective, Shard saw no reason to linger any longer. After finishing his drink, thoughts about another type of red liquid crossed his mind due to the drink, and purely out of curiosity, he blinked and used the "Echo of Blood" sorcery to examine his surroundings.

The result was far beyond his expectations. The floor and walls were normal, but the entire ceiling was filled with a disturbing blood-red halo. It wasn't that the ceiling was stained with blood, but rather that blood had seeped downward from the floor above.

Considering the amount, Shard found it hard to imagine what could be occurring upstairs.

"Are you sure Mr. Drell is an ordinary person?"

He had checked when he entered, but he still couldn't help asking now.

"Definitely sure."

"All right then."

It seemed that there were indeed some aspects of Mr. Lemer's estate that needed thorough investigation. Moreover, since the other party was just a normal human, Shard thought there was no need to pretend he hadn't noticed.

He nodded, put down his wine glass, and took a pocket watch out of his pocket:

"It's getting late; Mr. Drell, until next time."

Saying this, he stood up, and Mr. Drell quite normally walked Shard to the door.

Opening his umbrella at the door, the young Outlander nodded once more at Mr. Drell before stepping into the rain.

An hour later, Shard returned to this place from the hotel. He changed back into his diving outfit, which was still soaked, and wore a hooded cloak over it, not forgetting to put on a mask. He stood in the alley behind Mr. Drell's house without an umbrella.

Mermaid Lane is a remarkably neat alley nearby, with cobblestones laid on the ground, so even on rainy days, stepping into mud wasn't a concern. However, the alley behind the row of two-story buildings was, like any other typical alley of that era, turned into a mud pit by the rain. This made it easy for Shard to move unnoticed.

After checking the metal pipe on the back wall and shaking it to find it sturdy enough, he climbed upward along it. This type of pipe, fixed to the walls at intervals with clamps and steel nails, facilitated Shard's movements.

Upon reaching the second floor, judging the distance as close enough, he reached into his pocket, recited a spell, and cast down frog legs, then with a leap far beyond the capability of a normal human, jumped up to the windowsill of the second-floor window.

There were some flower pots on the windowsill which Shard knocked down. However, the sound of the heavy rain drowned out the noise as they fell into the mud.

Based on the position of the living room, the room behind this window should be the one filled with blood. But the curtains were drawn shut and impenetrable to sight, so Shard asked: Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire

"Can you detect any Elements?"

"Not for now."

He tried to push the window, which was indeed locked from the inside with a brass latch.

But that wasn't enough to deter Shard. He waved his hand forward and a curved moonlight precisely sliced through the metal window frame, breaking the lock inside. Similarly, the soft sound of glass cracking and metal breaking was covered by the rain.

He didn't immediately push the window open, but instead held his breath and listened for a while to the noises inside. After confirming he wasn't discovered, he gently pushed it, opening the window a crack.

The smell of blood almost immediately wafted out from the gap in the window and swiftly dissipated in the rain's dampness.

Shard involuntarily frowned, not immediately pushing the window further open but crouching on the windowsill, cautiously using his fingers to pry open the curtain in front of him.

There was light inside the room. Through the gap, he could see six long red candles, placed on a floor covered in fresh plasma. A large hexagram was drawn on the floor with dark plasma, with the six candles set at its six points.

Meanwhile, in the spaces between the hexagram's points, some strange ancient script was written, with glass vessels containing chunks of flesh placed around them.

In the back of the room, all the furniture had been removed except for the wall by the window he couldn't see. On the other three walls, prayers were written in common text, the ink, of course, being blood.

Looking up at the ceiling, several human skulls were nailed to the top with steel nails, with ropes tethering to the nails, hanging down from the ceiling. The influx of outside air through the opened window caused these skulls to sway slightly, creating a disturbing effect in the dim light of the candles.

"Still no trace of the Four Elements or Spirits?"

"None."

"Then I understand."

The horrifying scene in the room made the expression behind the mask grow more stern:

"This is ordinary people's cult worship."

It wasn't just Circle Sorcerers who worshiped the Evil God for power; ordinary people made up the majority of the cultists.

Perhaps having personally joined the order, or maybe having seen something in books that led to worship, possibly through exposure to certain special items, perhaps due to family reasons, or maybe their thinking was flawed... but regardless of which reason, according to the words of the senior priest, Lat August—

Every cultist should be executed immediately; those people were beyond salvation.

Mr. Drell was likely one of the ordinary cultists, and the items in his room were part of some kind of secret ritual. The arrangement of the room did look somewhat like the so-called evil rituals, but in reality, from Shard's limited knowledge, this ridiculous ritual did not conform to Basic Ritual Studies and seemed more like a fabrication of an ordinary person's imagination.

The ritual itself naturally wouldn't have any effect, but such actions were quite dangerous. In a world where Supernatural Power truly existed, even if the ritual was incorrect, it might still attract some kind of terrible distorting force.

The True God Church strictly prohibited such actions, and the contemporary Church of the Five Gods, seen as more benign in the eyes of the public, would have probably executed Mr. Drell immediately if they had discovered this scene instead of Shard.

"Things seem to have gotten a bit complicated. Speaking of which, the inheritance... how exactly did Sailor Lemer die? Did Mrs. Lemer get involved in some conspiracy unintentionally? Or perhaps, these two issues are actually unrelated."

Shard thought for a moment, pushed the window open wide enough to climb through, then jumped in from the windowsill, the sensation of his boots landing on the plasma was horrible.

He softly closed the window behind him, glanced over at the wall with the window, and immediately saw the tripod placed against the wall, atop which lay an open large book.

Not hearing any footsteps outside, Shard walked over and flipped through the book. Its black leather cover, faded deep blue ink, and yellowed pages with bug bite marks did resemble those of so-called ancient mystical tomes.

But Shard knew upon flipping through it that everything inside was fabricated through imagination, incoherent, laughably content, and the terminology was all wrong. It might deceive ordinary people, but any Circle Sorcerer could easily see through the truth of this book.

The only thing that surprised him was that this large book titled "Conch Manuscript," opened to a page praying to the Evil God and seeking a curse removal ritual.

The pentagram ritual pattern on the floor was identical to the hand-drawn pattern on this page, indicating the room's owner, Jason Delar, was not brain-damaged or worshipping the Evil God, rather, he was trying to ask for curse removal.

Things seemed to be getting stranger.

He pressed his hand on the book to let the woman's voice in his mind confirm; the book itself was just an ordinary object, then he took out the revolver from his waist. After ensuring he hadn't grabbed the wrong object, he quietly walked to the doorway and then purposely stomped hard on the floor.

The silence downstairs continued for a second, then Shard heard the sound of a ceramic teacup hitting the floor. The thud-thud-thud of footsteps ascending, but they didn't enter this room, opting for the next room over instead.

Chairs being pushed, locks turning, drawers opening, followed by the sound of bullets being chambered.

The panicked Mr. Delar, fingers trembling, disengaged the safety on his cold firearm and cautiously stepped out the door.

But just as he left the door, a gun barrel was already pressed against his forehead from the outside.

Shard, dressed in a black robe still dripping with water, stood in the hallway. For some reason, when Mr. Delar saw that his opponent was human and armed with a gun, he even seemed relieved.

He probably thought his ritual had summoned something formidable.

"Put down your weapon."

The dull voice came from behind Shard's mask, and the middle-aged man did not recognize that it was the same young man who had visited him recently. He hesitated, and Shard scoffed lightly.

"Oh!"

Under the effect of sorcery, flames suddenly burst from the sleeve of the hand Mr. Delar was holding the gun with; he instantly panicked, threw the handgun, and began beating the wall with his sleeve to put out the fire.

The flames were quickly extinguished, and he shakily tried to turn and run, then Shard kicked him in the bend of the knee.

Panicked, he sat on the floor with his back against the wall, and Shard's gun was still pointed at his forehead. From the inexplicable fire on his sleeve, the middle-aged man had already realized what the stranger was:

"Circle Sorcerer."

"Correct."

"Save me, I can give you anything you want."

He raised his hands, even attempting to embrace Shard's arm, but the motion of the gun barrel made him instantly restrain himself.

"Save you?"

Shard raised the gun in his hand, pointing towards the room stained with plasma:

"Now, come into this room with me, and tell me exactly what you have experienced."

"I'll tell you everything, I can give you money, just save me!"