Note> Hi, I know I said we were going back to regular scheduled (we are) but I was preoccupied with moving, if you missed my message in chat the short story is I needed to move out (again), and I finally did so.
Anyway, Happy reading!
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"So, in theory, that thing wouldn't target people from other countries like us, right? After all, even if we bore ill intent, we weren't in Begrossé before."
The young tour guide froze for a moment, then nodded. "It seems so."
But Ron could clearly feel that he, Nina, and the others were being targeted. That alone was proof that what the young guide said—or rather, what the church had told the common people of Begrossé—was not the truth.
Ron didn't dwell on it. "Please continue."
"Alright."
The guide led Ron on a casual stroll through the city. By the time dusk approached, Ron returned to the hotel and had dinner—prepared earlier by Erina inside Sumas's space.
When night fell, an event similar to last night's occurred again. But this time, the situation was a little different. It wasn't the strange, distant noises from before. Instead, it was the change in the air.
The atmosphere seemed to grow damp, with a faint trace of sea salt—odd, considering this was an inland city in Begrossé, far from the coast. Ron suspected it was very likely related to the Spirits.
Soon, he saw ordinary citizens already under its influence. Their eyes glowed faintly yellow. Unlike last night, when the afflicted attacked whatever they saw, tonight's victims seemed to choose their targets.
A shop owner walked out and charged into a similar store across the street. A young man crossed three blocks, entered a house, and killed another young man inside. A middle-aged woman plunged a knife into the body of a middle-aged man beside her.
Priests appeared again—but tonight's situation was far worse than yesterday's. Tonight, there was not just one Spirit. There were seven.
Inside a cathedral, an elderly man sat with a face ashen and grim. Below him, a priest reported the news.
"The situation really is this bad?"
"Yes, Cardinal. We are completely out of manpower. These Spirits are far stronger than the one from last night, and there are far more of them."
The old man glanced outside, eyes flickering. "Why would this happen?" Suddenly, a thought struck him, and his pupils shrank sharply. "Could it be… the Millennial Catastrophe?"
He immediately pulled out his phone and contacted the Archbishop's leadership in the capital. Before long, the line connected.
"Lawrence, you've noticed something is wrong too?"
"Archbishop, what do you mean?"
"Before you called, other cardinals had already contacted me." The archbishop sighed. "If nothing else, this should be the Millennial Catastrophe facing Begrossé this time. But it's strange—clearly, it's not yet time. We're still a few formations short."
"This time, everyone must be prepared for massive losses… even sacrifice."
"But, Lawrence, there's someone in your city right now who should be able to help you."
"Archbishop, you mean?"
"Ron Zoldyck. He's been to the capital before, and he should be in your city now. But he'll only act in exchange for the Dark Sonata, so you'll have to negotiate with Claude yourself."
The archbishop was not ignorant of the Dark Sonata's existence—he even knew exactly which cardinal possessed it. Previously, he had rejected Ron's terms simply because he thought there was no need to spend such a treasure to hire him.
But now, with the appearance of the Millennial Catastrophe, the Begrossé church had been forced into a passive position.
"I understand, Archbishop. Thank you."
"No need. Guard your city—that's the best repayment to the church. I have no wish to see another take your place."
Lawrence nodded heavily. "Please rest assured."
Ending the call, he immediately ordered his subordinates, "Find Ron Zoldyck! At all costs, locate him as quickly as possible!"
He then dialed Claude's number.
"Lawrence, what is it?"
"Claude, I need the Dark Sonata in your possession."
"The Dark Sonata? Why bring that up now? Are you even the Lawrence I know?"
"Of course. The Millennial Catastrophe has only just begun. I'm not so useless that I'd already be replaced."
"True enough. So, you want the Dark Sonata to deal with the Catastrophe? But that's clearly impossible—you know as well as I do. If it worked, I'd have used it already."
The Catastrophe was a disaster blanketing all of Begrossé. The archbishop, Lawrence, and Claude were all facing the same threat.
Claude reasoned, "So… someone else needs the Dark Sonata. You've found help?"
"Not yet, but soon."
"I want a share of your helper."
"That's fine. Stay in my city for ten days, and the rest of the time is yours."
"Ten days is too long—three."
"Three isn't enough. At least eight."
They finally settled on four days. The Dark Sonata was Claude's property, after all, giving him the stronger bargaining position.
At that moment, Lawrence's men found Ron.
Ron looked over the young man before him. "Lawrence? A cardinal?"
"Yes. The cardinal sent us—there's something very important he needs to discuss with you. Would you be willing to come to the cathedral?"
The priests posture was low and respectful, exactly as Lawrence had instructed beforehand. In Begrossé, clergy held the highest authority—comparable to the royal family of the Fiora Kingdom, and perhaps even greater. They were proud by nature; even when polite on the surface, their hearts were filled with pride.
"He didn't say what it's about?"
"No—"
Before he could finish, the priest's phone rang. The caller was Lawrence.
"Cardinal?"
"You've found Ron?"
"Yes. He's right in front of me."
"Put him on."
"Yes, Cardinal."
The priest hurriedly handed the phone to Ron, and Ron took it.