Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Chapter 78 Blood Mist

The evening breeze passing beneath the grape trellis caused Shard, who had narrowly escaped death, to shudder involuntarily. Even for a Circle Sorcerer, if one's head exploded like a watermelon, it was certain death. He sat there, motionless, watching the scene before him as a voice whispered in his ear:

"I thought you might throw the dice, trying to roll another 20 to turn the situation around."

"No, I wouldn't bet on luck. I just used the action of throwing the dice to force him to shoot, otherwise, if he became cautious and tried to kill me in some other way, I would really have to meet the Grim Reaper... Speaking of which, the last time I rolled a 20, it was to counter the 'Puppeteer's Script', so if the Blood Spirit School sends another page of the script, can you still help me?"

"Of course."

The woman chuckled softly in Shard's ear, still pleasing to hear.

A rigid smile appeared on Shard's face, and his mood gradually settled down. He still sat there, muttering to himself in his heart:

"This isn't a stroke of luck for me. Since it's called the 'Spear of Kindness', and it doesn't kill a suicidee, then perhaps under my luck tonight, the opposite might also work."

"Do you have any other plans?"

"The original plan was to feign death, but whether I could fool the other party with a feigned death also relied on luck."

After saying this, he took another deep breath and exhaled before feeling that he could control his body, which was numbed by the fear of impending death. His back was actually soaked through, and as the night wind blew, he couldn't help shivering.

Shard stood up, feeling as if he had come back to life compared to when he had sat down a few minutes before. He calmly and carefully wiped the dice with the headless corpse's clothes, then pocketed it along with the ring and the Orb of Silvermoon.

When he retrieved the 'Spear of Kindness' from the corpse's hand, he discovered that blood soaking into the part of the gun where the bullets were held revealed a circle of tiny inscriptions that he hadn't noticed before—

Do no harm to oneself, do no harm to others.

"Ha~"

He laugh dryly, his face and half of his shirt front now covered in blood, but he didn't forget to take the 'Puppeteer's Script' from the stone table.

The script's leather cover seemed capable of soaking up blood, so it wasn't stained. Unfortunately, the first nine pages had already been used, and in order not to let the holder notice the content used previously, the sentences at the front had been blacked out.

Shaking his head, Shard held the script in his hand. He didn't bother cleaning the bloodstains and brain matter off the ground and table but dragged the headless corpse away from under the grape trellis and turned to walk into the garden's maze.

He grunted and immediately closed off his sorcery; merely a glimpse had caused his head to buzz. He knew this feeling well—it was the breath of a god, and the mere power generated from the ritual itself was already startling.

"No, it's just that the stench of blood here is too strong. I came to try my luck, initially wanting to catch a cat to assist me. Detective, now put on the clothes from the body and wear this mask, there's no time for you to wash up."

The wine-red formal attire of the headless corpse was not noticeably stained with blood, while the mask was a wooden artifact twisted into being by Miss Annette's light caressing of the flower bushes, an ordinary design, tied over the head with a grass rope.

"Has the Evil God descended already?"

Shard asked, feeling his heart's beating rate, his eyes could only perceive darkness shrouding the mansion. Mysterious and profound, Lakeside Manor seemed to have completely transformed at this moment.

"Not yet, we encountered Lady Lassoya, or rather, Sir. The individual is a Circle Sorcerer of Six Rings, and now a doctor, a priest, and Dorothy have trapped him, or perhaps he has trapped them. I need assistance."

"It really is terrible luck,"

he thought to himself.

Shard could imagine the dangers of entering the mansion. He could choose to leave, but he couldn't bear to watch his new friends, whom he had just met, die. Since he had become a Circle Sorcerer, he was prepared to face danger; he would not run away. Always running, there would inevitably come a time when he could not escape:

"I will go with you."

At this moment, his mood was surprisingly calm, even his lips subconsciously curled up slightly in pleasure; he knew he had made the right choice. Even if he truly died in the mansion tonight, he would not regret this decision.

Miss Annette observed the detective's expressions; the Diviner understood Shard's feelings at present:

"This is the life of a Circle Sorcerer, having stepped into the transcendent and the mystical, one can never turn back. Detective, you might have just faced a life-and-death decision not long ago, but for now, forget about that. I'm sorry, although it's dangerous, you're about to experience life and death with me once again.

Your story, we can wait until tonight is over, then you can tell us all about it."

"Will the Evil God descend? Also, I've noticed traces of the ritual within the garden."

Shard asked, changing into the clothes and donning the mask, walking out of the bushes with the valiant Miss Annette. The latter, facing the moonlight, shook her head, her purple eyes appearing luminous:

"Whether the Evil God will descend, I do not know, we can only do what we are capable of doing. The Divine Descent Ritual is vast—the arrangements within the garden are peripheral, not important. What's crucial is on the third floor of the mansion. Come with me, Detective."

Leaving only the headless corpse lying behind in the bushes, clouds drifted from afar to cover the trio of moons, and the Star River ceased to glimmer. The headless body was gradually enveloped in shadows and blood mist, the area once again regaining its peace and serenity.