As Furen worried about his "digestion period," he suddenly heard the doorbell ring. The noise came from outside the office, the door of which remained ajar because he had rushed to read the newspaper. Furen was surprised, then slightly worried. But he didn't really have a solution: he first had to see if the person behind the door came with good or bad intentions.
"If I were already a Trick Master, I would at least have a chance to defend myself... Alas, time is always time..." he thought helplessly.
Soon, Furen approached the front door. Opening a door is always a matter fraught with surprises and scares. Countless horror and spy movies have proven this, not to mention cartoons.
Luckily, when he opened the door, no one yelled, "Open the door! FBI!" and it wasn't the terrifying maid from the night before. No, standing before him was a man so stunningly handsome she was becoming jealous: Amadi.
"Yo, my dear brother Furen, aren't you inviting me to sit down?" said the handsome man from the Abraham clan with a smile.
But Furen immediately noticed that, despite his light tone, a veil of shadow obscured Amadi's gaze. The fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the red veins on the whites of his eyes... everything indicated that he had expended a lot of energy during the previous day's battle, perhaps even that he hadn't slept all night.
Without wasting any time, Furen politely invited this new old one in. After a quick glance around, he closed the door and led what appeared to be the only old Abraham still in Trier into the living room.
Furen didn't take him to the study where he'd been reading the newspaper earlier, but to another, still unused living room. In truth, he was still discovering this villa, whose luxury gave the impression that there were more than three of them living there.
At first, Furen had been very pleased with his house: it reminded him of the homes of European nobles of old. But after visiting Villa Melanie the day before, he had realized that his was in truth only slightly superior to that of a well-to-do bourgeois.
Amadi looked around and smiled:
"Furen, even though we only met yesterday, the situation is special. So let me call you more familiarly. This time, the Abraham family has suffered immense losses. If you hadn't come, it might have been less serious… or maybe not."
He took a deep breath before continuing, "Furen, you are one of Reeve's designated heirs. I'm not going to lie to you: I have bad news and good news. Which do you want to hear first?"
Furen sighed inwardly, "Seriously? Even here, I get the cliché of good news or bad news..."
Then, honestly, he answered:
"Let's start with the bad. I already have a feeling something went wrong."
Amadi laughed softly at his calm expression.
"There's no need to be so tense. The situation is serious, but it's not yet critical. Even among all the crises we've experienced since the decline of the Abrahams, this one doesn't rank in the top ten."
He cleared his throat and continued:
"Everyone who attended the meeting except the three of us is dead. All of them were mind-searched, their memories stolen, and from there, a large portion of our forces were wiped out. And the witch you reported wasn't a Sequence 7… but a Sequence 6 (Pleasure Demon)."
Amadi glanced at Furen's expression, which had darkened slightly but quickly improved, and nodded. He continued:
"But don't worry: we've eliminated that Pleasure Demon. If all goes well, you won't have any problems. However, the Affliction Demon who accompanied her may be much more difficult to deal with."
Furen, stunned by the tenacity of the ancient Abrahams, couldn't help but admire the power of the True God families: to be able to mobilize Sequence 6 or 5 entities like that was terrifying. Then, a thought assailed him, and he asked sharply:
"Mr. Amadi, and you? Your identity is surely compromised. What will happen to the Abrahams of Trier?"
Amadi replied with almost carefree calm:
"Don't worry about me. They can't do anything to me. If I revealed my information, it's because I took precautions. I'm an experienced Apprentice, and I know Trier like the back of my hand. They won't catch me."
"All I want is for you to stay calm. Pretend you're not an Abraham. Your identity is Furen Freeman. Just assimilate your potion calmly. When you become an Astrologian, only then can you contact me again. Well, time is of the essence. I still have to manage family affairs. Poor Reeve…"
Amadi paused, seized by a brief surge of melancholy, then remained silent.
Furen tried to comfort him:
"Don't worry. Mr. Reeve's sacrifice will not be in vain. The Abrahams' tenacity cannot be destroyed by anyone. Believe me, just as I will believe in you."
Amadi immediately regained his mischievous and smiling air:
"Come now, come now, I came to cheer you up, not the other way around. I've been thinking about this for a long time. Just keep digesting your potion. I won't contact you for a while... let's say a year. No, ten months. At that point, I'll come and reinforce the divination shield Reeve had prepared for you."
He had barely finished his sentence when he traced a sign in the air: the space split, and he disappeared in an instant, so suddenly that Furen was left speechless.
"Am I really that scary?" he thought, a little bewildered.
Looking at his pocket watch, he noticed that it was already almost eleven o'clock. He didn't want to go to the National Library in Trier right away, but he thought about the upcoming literary fair and felt a headache coming on. He just had to rely on Quevedo's lead and hope that the Sect of Demonesses didn't come and disrupt his life.
He tapped his forehead to ease his headache, then forced himself to get up from the chair he had slumped into.
"No luck..." he sighed.
Then, Fren changed very quickly, thinking that he would have to hire a temporary servant to do his laundry today. Without a washing machine, washing clothes… It was too long and tedious, this task took forever, and he was already racing against time.
Leaving his house, he hailed a coachman with a familiar gesture, indicated his destination, then collapsed tiredly in the carriage, feeling drained.
Today's coachman was much less talkative than the previous day's, which Furen was pleased about: he really didn't want to talk.
(End of chapter)