The evening meal was a quiet, and enjoyable one.
The food was definitely an improvement from the plain vegetable soup Seth had eaten upon his arrival.
Phoebe's mother, whose name he learned was Remielyn, had prepared a simple stew with chunks of root vegetables and a small amount of inexpensive, tough meat, slow-cooked until it was tender.
The warmth of the food was a small comfort, but it did little to fill Seth's stomach.
As the meal went on, he had small talk with the family.
Phoebe's younger sister, Fate, kept asking harmless questions—how long he'd been in town, where he came from, if he liked her mother's cooking.
Her mother, Remielyn, smiled gently at him from across the table, her hands moving automatically as she cleaned up bowls and refilled cups with water.
Luckily, neither of them seemed to suspect much about his "resurrection."
From what Seth gathered, they didn't even seem to know about his death at all.
That alone made it easier for him to talk and play the part of an ordinary friend just wanting to stay for a few days.
It also seemed like they did not know much about the original Seth either.
That worked even more in his favor.
He laughed when they laughed, nodded at stories he didn't understand, and made sure to appear grateful for every small kindness.
Still, Seth wasn't shameless.
He noticed the careful way Remielyn portioned the food and noticed the mended patches on Fate's dress, how the meat was portioned more for him than them.
They were struggling to make ends meet...
Out of courtesy, he forced himself to eat lightly, pretending he had an upset stomach.
He took only a small bowl, a gesture he hoped would go unnoticed but felt like the least he could do.
After dinner, they exchanged goodnights.
The small house grew quiet except for the soft creak of the wind against the wooden shutters.
Outside, the night of Matamisan was serene... it was silent, still, and painted in a faint blue hue from the moonlight filtering through mist.
But despite the serenity, Seth couldn't sleep.
The bed felt comfortable enough, yet his mind refused to rest.
His thoughts drifted between fear and curiosity.
There was too much to think about!
Phoebe was a witch...
Not just a witch, but one with a mentor, knowledge, and possibly connections to other witches!
The contents of the letter replayed in his mind, making Seth overthink even more.
One wrong move, one slip that revealed he wasn't the amnesiac he pretended to be, and he would be dealing with forces he couldn't comprehend!
The Coven of the Solace mentioned in the letter was an organization that Seth did not dare to think about messing with...
'Should I just run away?'
A desperate, primal urge to run away instantly came up in his mind...
He could slip out now, vanish into the night, and take his chances in the wilderness...?
'No, that would be suicide...'
He had no money, no knowledge of the land, no survival skills in this foreign world.
A lone man with no resources would be easy prey for bandits, starvation, or the very demons Phoebe had described.
At least here, under Phoebe's roof, he had a semblance of shelter and, more importantly, a source of information.
She was his only source of information in this world where he knew nothing.
And so far, no harm was caused upon Seth...
Staying close to her, dangerous as it was, was currently his best strategy for survival.
Just as his exhausted senses began to finally drift towards an uneasy sleep, a soft, distinct click could be heard...
His eyes snapped open.
He lay perfectly still, listening.
The gentle creak of a door hinge was followed by soft, cautious footsteps.
Peering through the gloom, he saw a shadowy figure emerge from Phoebe's room.
He initially assumed she was heading to the bathroom, but her path led straight to the front door.
She was dressed in dark, practical clothes, and a deep hood was pulled up to obscure her features.
Seth watched, a mocking comment crossing his mind.
'Idiot... at least use the windows to sneak out. The front door is just asking to be heard.'
With a quiet sigh, he activated [Null Presence].
The aura of his body seemed to change and his state of existence thinned like a shadow under moonlight.
He followed after her, careful to keep a distance.
The streets of the Linere District were poorly lit, with only the occasional flickering lantern casting long, dancing shadows.
The darkness was his ally, making his [Null Presence] even more effective.
He trailed Phoebe, keeping a considerable distance, his senses on high alert.
This wasn't a relaxed stroll for him... every nerve was taut.
What if she was meeting another witch?
Someone more powerful, whose senses could see through his tricky little ability?
He couldn't just assume his power was infallible.
They walked for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of the city fading behind them until they reached the borderline of Matamisan, where the ordered streets began to turn into trees and dirt.
Phoebe, thankfully, stuck to a narrow, overgrown path that ran parallel to the main road, making it easier for Seth to follow without being exposed.
He watched from behind a thick oak tree as Phoebe reached the clearing.
She stood before the lone, crooked grave, her hooded figure silhouetted against the moonlit headstone marked 'ARDEN'.
She didn't kneel or pray.
Instead, she inspected around the area like a detective, her eyes scanning the ground intently.
She circled the disturbed earth, her gaze tracing the messy, outward spray of soil and the deep gouges in the dirt at the head of the grave—
To her observation, they seemed like marks not of a shovel digging down, but of desperate hands tearing their way up from the ground...
She stood there for a long, silent moment, as she watched the scene.
Finally, a soft, almost inaudible whisper escaped her lips.
"So... he really did crawl out of his grave..."
Hearing this, Seth could not help but let out another mocking comment inside his head.
'So she really does have the habit of talking to herself...'
He watched from his concealed position, expecting her to turn back now that her investigation was complete.
She had the confirmation she'd been sent to find.
But instead of retracing her steps toward the main road, Phoebe pulled her hood lower and continued walking, heading deeper into the forest.
'Where is she going now?'
They walked for another twenty minutes, the path becoming less distinct until it opened into a sparsely populated area on the very fringes of the city.
The houses here were modest, single-story structures made of weathered wood and rough stone, huddled together as though space was limited.
But one building stood out, dominating the small area it occupied.
It was a two-story house, larger and more solidly built than its neighbors, with a slate roof and a second-floor balcony that overlooked the surrounding trees.
A single, warm light glowed from a downstairs window, but the upper floor was dark.
Phoebe stopped at the tree line, becoming a statue as she observed the house.
Seth followed her, crouching behind a thicket, his eyes fixed on her.
He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides.
This definitely wasn't a casual visit...
After a long, assessing silence, she moved.
Instead of approaching the front door, she skirted the edge of the clearing, using the shadows cast by the other small houses as cover.
She moved with a practiced stealth that spoke of prior reconnaissance...
She had definitely done this before.
Seth followed along, being careful enough not to be heard by her.
He watched as she reached the side of the two-story house, where a gnarled old oak tree stretched its branches toward the second-floor balcony.
Without a moment's hesitation, she tested a lower branch, found it sturdy, and began to climb.
She wasn't clumsy but her strength definitely lacked a bit.
In moments, she had reached a height level with the balcony.
With a careful motion, she swung herself over the railing and landed silently on the wooden planks.
Seth's eyes widened.
'Breaking and entering?'
This was far beyond a simple investigation.
What was in that house that demanded such risk?
'Wait, is she trying to rob a house?!'
Phoebe crouched on the balcony and tried the handle of the glass-paned door.
It was locked.
From a small pouch at her belt, she took out two thin, metallic tools.
Seth couldn't see the details, but he heard a faint click which made Phoebe's shoulder relax.
She slid the door open just enough to slip inside, disappearing into the darkness of the upper floor.
Seth was left alone in the cold, his mind racing.
He couldn't follow her up the tree without making a lot of noise...
He did not want to test the limits of [Null Presence].
His only option was to wait and watch.
He found a deeper patch of shadow between two nearby sheds, his gaze locked on the lit window on the first floor.
He could see vague shapes moving inside... most likely the family living inside.
Minutes stretched into what felt like forever....
He was about to consider retreat when a new sound reached him...
It was muffled but distinct cadence of voices.
They were coming from a vent or an open window just below the balcony where Phoebe had entered.
'So she broke in and positioned herself in a perfect spot to eavesdrop?'
He couldn't make out the words, but the tone was clear, allowing Seth to vaguely guess the genders.
One voice, high and female, was raised in annoyance.
Another, softer voice seemed to be pleading.
A third, agitated and more authoritative, stood out among the others.
They were arguing about something.
Something about a "shipment," a "delay," and "consequences."
Then, the agitated male voice rose, enough for Seth to hear clearly.
"...Priestess Putrescence will conduct a visit, so if you can just quietly attend the piano lessons given to you without causing trouble, then that would be great for not just for you, but for the family as well!"