"So you want me to approach Miss Hall, but your real purpose is to find a way to meet this Count Hall?"
After a long while, Angel finally regained her composure and asked.
She felt her mouth dry, reaching for the teacup on the coffee table and drinking half a cup of black tea before feeling better.
"Of course not. Do you think you have that ability?" Sevilia sharply evaluated. "You just need to find a way to become friends with Audrey Hall. You don't need to concern yourself with the rest."
"If you encounter any difficulties while completing this task, you can ask me for help," she added.
So much introduction about Count Hall, but in the end you just want me to approach his daughter?
Angel found it hard to believe the task was so simple, but Sevilia seemed disinclined to continue this topic. She turned to discussing Ruen nobility's etiquette and preferences, and finally had a maid bring over a primer on noble etiquette for Angel to study carefully.
"Although Viscount Glaint's circle doesn't place too much importance on these things, you still need to master the basic etiquette. If you make a fool of yourself and become the laughingstock of the salon, your mission will have failed."
Then why don't you go yourself...
Angel grumbled internally as she accepted the etiquette primer.
Just when she thought this meeting was about to end, Sevilia's next words made her heart tighten again.
"You need to leave behind a lock of your hair or a vial of your blood. This is a measure to prevent members from betraying us. You understand, don't you?"
Hair or blood... to be used as a medium for curses?
Angel had already guessed that the "Witch Sect" would have measures to prevent members from defecting or leaking secrets, but she hadn't expected it to be so direct rather than mutual surveillance or regular reports.
She knew that any refusal or even slight hesitation might arouse suspicion, so she nodded and answered:
"Blood then. I'm quite particular about my hair..."
If the hair I cut off turned pale gold, I'd probably immediately become the Beyonder characteristics for some other 'Instigator' to use for advancement!
"Lady Sevilia, approximately 30 years old, though not entirely certain. Black hair, gray eyes, should be Sequence 6 'Pleasure Witch,' lives on Palm Avenue in the West District, definitely a wealthy area."
Looking at the notebook messily filled with information, Angel frowned with some distress.
From today's meeting, she had only obtained this information. She wasn't even certain whether the other party's appearance was real, since even she, a Sequence 7, possessed a mystical item that could change appearances—it wouldn't be strange for the other party to have similar capabilities.
Setting down her fountain pen, she took out the vanity mirror that had been made into her personal magic mirror and placed it on the notebook.
"Magic mirror, magic mirror, tell me Lady Sevilia's true identity."
The smooth surface of the magic mirror turned pitch black, with mist barely visible to the naked eye surging within. Then the image blurred and returned to the mirror surface reflecting the study's scenery.
Without a doubt, this divination had failed.
"It seems this Pleasure Witch has also taken sufficient anti-divination measures, or possesses a mystical item similar to the 'Magic Pocket Watch.' With my Sequence 7 strength, divination simply cannot take effect, unless..."
She glanced at the "Concealment Holy Emblem" on her wrist.
If she set up a formal ritual magic and prayed to the Goddess for official divination, she might be able to break through the anti-divination and obtain some useful information.
But this required the target to make a positive response first for the ritual magic to take effect. Last time when she prayed to the Goddess trying to find that mysterious man who erased her memory, the Goddess had even erased the sketch...
Sighing, Angel decided to choose a simpler, more effective method—purchasing intelligence.
She recalled the half-grown boy Ian she had casually saved when rescuing Sonya with Dominic. He had claimed that if she needed intelligence, she could find him at the "Brave Bar."
Perhaps now was the time to use this connection...
Moreover, as a wild Beyonder, conducting private investigations after contacting the "Witch Sect" fit her identity perfectly. If she did nothing, that would seem more suspicious.
Having thought this through, Angel tore out the page with intelligence from her notebook and put it in her pocket. She shoved the notebook into the bookshelf. At that moment, her gaze fell upon the noble etiquette book Sevilia had given her.
Her expression changed several times. After hesitating for a long while, she finally pulled out the book with a cover depicting an elegantly dressed woman and randomly opened a page.
"Except during outdoor activities like hunting and horse riding, women wearing trousers instead of skirts will be considered rude and improper."
She snapped the etiquette book shut with a "pa" and sighed again.
Late at night at Lady Sevilia's mansion.
In the luxuriously decorated bedroom, Lady Sevilia, having dismissed her personal maid, stood before a full-length mirror, carefully applying some dark red substance around the mirror's edge until the dark red merged into a complete oval.
After infusing a bit of spirituality, she placed her hands folded at her abdomen, standing elegantly before the mirror as if welcoming some important figure, waiting patiently.
After an unknown amount of time, the mirror surface reflecting her black silk gown turned pitch black, then blood seeped through.
"What is it, Sevilia?"
A soft but low voice came through. The black mirror surface became transparent, as if becoming a window. Outside the window stood a graceful figure with her back to Sevilia, wearing a white robe, her face unclear. The robe had high slits on both sides, revealing slender legs.
She turned around, looking toward the "window."
"Lady Despair."
Sevilia bowed her head in salute before continuing:
"Triss has been quite restless lately. She's secretly having people help her collect 'Pleasure' materials. Perhaps she wants to escape her current predicament. According to your instructions, I haven't stopped her."
"It doesn't matter. No matter which direction she goes, she will ultimately approach the 'Primordial.' This is already written fact."
The white-robed woman replied in a soothing tone.
"Yes," Sevilia nodded. "Another matter—at Mr. A's gathering last week, the one selling the 'Witch' formula was a witch from Tingen City who lost contact with her superior. She came to Backlund seeking advancement opportunities. Following protocol, I contacted her, left a curse medium, and plan to test her soon."
"Her appearance doesn't match Viscount Glaint's preferences. I'll try to have her approach Count Hall's daughter and become her friend, looking for opportunities to influence the Count."
"Appearance doesn't match? Are you certain she's a 'Witch'?"
"Yes," Sevilia quickly responded. "A subordinate I sent to follow her was attacked by her using blood curses. That's how I confirmed her pathway."
"Do I need to suspend action and confirm again?" she asked hesitantly, her body leaning forward considerably as if afraid of saying the wrong thing.
"There's no need to consult me about such trivial matters. Handle it yourself," the white-robed woman was unconcerned. She turned her face to the side as if there was some movement there. "Be careful of the Beyonders around Count Hall. He's a believer of the Evernight Goddess, holds a high position, and is generous. The Nighthawks probably keep watch over such nobles constantly. Be careful not to alert them. Your idea of targeting his daughter is good."
"During this period, caution is paramount in everything. I'll be monitoring your progress constantly."
As soon as she finished speaking, mist surged within the full-length mirror, then the mirror returned to normal. The dark red substance previously applied around the edges had completely disappeared.
Sevilia breathed a sigh of relief. She covered the full-length mirror with black cloth and rang for a maid: "Prepare my bath."
Her silk gown was already soaked with sweat.
Friday afternoon, in the "Divination Witch" room at the Divination Club.
Angel held a piece of intelligence, reading it word by word. The lively sounds from next door, which didn't seem like a divination room at all, entered her ears, preventing her from fully concentrating.
Lady Sevilia Landon, 32 years old, married the widowed Baron Landon three years ago. The two were very affectionate, frequently appearing together at social occasions.
But a year ago, Baron Landon suddenly fell seriously ill and died soon after. With no heir, most of his fortune—including several properties in Backlund, large tracts of land in East Chester County, and shares in some factories—was inherited by his widow, Lady Sevilia Landon.
This young, wealthy baroness immediately became a sought-after socialite in Backlund.
Why am I not surprised at all?
Looking at this resume identical to Lady Sharon's, Angel recalled the woman in the black robe she had met two nights ago.
She must have used some method—curses, perhaps, or poison—to deal with her remarried baron, then inherited his enormous fortune.
And having her approach Count Hall's daughter might well include intentions to get closer to the Count's family and introduce other "witches"...
Has the Witch Sect developed path dependency?
Aurora Order kills and burns, witches usurp nests—everyone has a bright future...
Having finished her internal complaints, Angel put away the intelligence she had bought for 15 pounds from Kaspars at the "Brave Bar," then took out the etiquette book to cram the relevant knowledge.
Regardless of Sevilia's identity, to infiltrate the Witch Sect, she had to complete her task. If she made a fool of herself at the salon due to ignorance of noble etiquette, her undercover career would end on the spot.
Moreover, she had left a vial of blood as a "hostage." If the mission failed, the consequences would be dire. Even as a fellow Witch pathway member, Sevilia's curse might not directly kill her, but the other party was quite confident in this measure to prevent betrayal—even if it didn't kill her, she'd probably shed a layer of skin.
"Bang, bang."
Before she could read a few pages, someone knocked heavily on the divination room door.
As a strong smell of tobacco wafted in, Angel welcomed another customer.
This was a middle-aged man with heavy concerns on his mind. His stubble seemed long ungroomed, his hair was messy, and though he wore an expensive-looking windbreaker, it was full of wrinkles with his shirttail hanging out.
"I want to divine my daughter's whereabouts, as detailed as possible!"