"I admit, these days have been a bit too easy. But after finding Glaint and Megose, I've finally stumbled upon a third person who piques my interest, someone worth a little scheming."
"Trissy, ah, the future Trissy Cheek."
"I'm curious what Cheek would do if, before His Divine Descent, He saw His vessel morphed into an Outer God's form. Perhaps I could nudge the Primordial Demoness to pick a new candidate? Handing the pathway to the Evernight Goddess or Medici seems better than letting this guy hog it."
"Don't ask why I dare write diaries after Roselle. I don't believe anyone can decipher my notes in that star-born language even I barely recall."
"Also, worth mentioning: that student I took under the Abraham Family's name is as good as dead. It's been a month, and Fors hasn't sent me a single letter."
"…Wait, what if she wrote but was too lazy to mail it?"
"Looks like I need to check her digestion progress."
"August 15, 1349, Adrian, recorded."
…
Adrian strolled casually down the street, the dusk sun casting a blood-red glow, staining the river like it was steeped in crimson. He paused briefly, using his Beyonder powers to peer across a vast distance at a rigid corpse on a bed. Confirming the old woman's cause of death, Adrian's lips curled slightly. Trissy had acted. He watched a Nighthawk squad head out, led by that young Spirit Medium. Trissy had cleverly fled, but her Demoness acting was clumsy—even a rookie Nighthawk like Klein could spot her tells.
"Too many occult traces, Trissy. Relying on a Demoness's anti-divination won't shield you from those with ill intent," Adrian muttered, grabbing his cane and sauntering off. Following occult connections, he headed straight for Trissy's hidden altar.
As both a Hanged Man and Sequence 7 Observer of the Overlook pathway—also known as the Scholar pathway—Adrian could easily track his target with keen observation, even without tapping his Sefirot.
In a gray-blue house's second-floor bedroom, unlit.
A young woman with a round, sweet face sat at a dressing table, studying "complex" skincare by faint starlight.
A silver mirror beside her right hand, its surface roughly polished, barely reflected anything.
Suddenly, a bloody streak oozed across the mirror.
Trissy's gentle, sweet expression darkened. She stood, walked to the window, and silently gazed outside.
After a brief clash with Leonard and his team, Trissy had retreated, nursing injuries. Notably, since Dunn Smith and some Nighthawks involved in the prior fight were suspected of True Creator pollution, the Holy Cathedral had reassigned Daly, familiar with Tingen, to replace Dunn, who was sent to Backlund to recover.
Already a Sequence 6 Spirit Guide, Daly nearly killed Trissy with summoned spirits. Though Trissy narrowly escaped, she bore several severe puncture wounds.
By the Tussock River, Trissy slowed, eyeing the flowers in her hand. Muttering, a black, illusory flame erupted from her palm, engulfing the flowers and burning them to ash.
The flowers were tainted with Leonard's blood. Meanwhile, Leonard, watching his plucked fingernail ignite, paled, grateful for the timely warning from the "old man" in his mind.
Trissy intended to dive into the water, but her ears twitched, catching an odd sound. She leaped back warily, spotting a gentleman in a suit, holding a crystal-inlaid cane, approaching the bank.
"Are you alright, dear lady? You look pale. Need help?" Adrian's lips curved, his tone gentle. Ignoring the oddity of his presence, he seemed a true gentleman.
Trissy's expression flickered. Suddenly, she flashed a seductive smile, feigning weakness as she stumbled toward Adrian. Her slender arms softly encircled his neck, but her wrist flicked, a glinting dagger stabbing at his back without hesitation.
To her shock, the dagger passed through Adrian's body, sinking into shadow. Stunned, she stared at the man, who seized her with his right hand, a mysterious smile on his face. Drawing a cross over his chest, he said, "Praise the Lord."
"Damn, Aurora Order!" Trissy watched helplessly as she was pressed underwater, losing consciousness. She'd assumed this man, wandering at night, was a Nighthawk or rogue Beyonder—never imagining he was from Tingen's now-defunct Aurora Order!
…
"Klein, try divining Trissy's location. Hm… Leonard's right; the Demoness Sect's little ones might really be transformed men. I'm curious if they miss their old male lives. Experiencing the other side's feelings—guess that's a perk of this potion?" Daly said lazily, sending a chill through Klein, already uneasy.
At that moment, he recalled Adrian's mention of Roselle's diary quip, "The taste of a Demoness ain't bad." Klein clapped a hand over his mouth…
Emperor! Your tastes… Never mind, to each their own. Stay proper, Emperor!
Suppressing his unease, Klein grabbed his cane to divine. After chanting seven times with eyes closed, his expression sharpened, eyeing the cane standing steady on the floor
The divination was disrupted!
...
"Cough, cough, ha—"
Trissy jolted awake, coughing. She found herself in a room with a burning fireplace. The man who'd submerged her had changed clothes and sat by the hearth, leisurely reading. The situation was clear: she'd been knocked out, bagged, and brought here—now a "prisoner" of the Aurora Order. Still, Trissy scanned for escape routes.
"You're awake?" Adrian asked. Trissy sprang up, facing him silently, her resolve firm, as if daring him to do his worst.
"Guess you are." Adrian stood, slowly approaching the sweet-faced, round-cheeked woman. With each step forward, Trissy instinctively stepped back.
"Demoness, what's your name?" Adrian asked, shadows coalescing at his sleeve, a glinting blade materializing. He pressed its cold tip against Trissy's pale neck. Feeling the sharp, icy touch, Trissy swallowed hard, her once-defiant gaze turning earnest.
This is the simplest negotiation tactic… Adrian mused, repeating, "Name?"
"Trissy," she replied, humiliated.
"Good, Trissy." Adrian nodded lightly, releasing the blade. Sitting on the living room sofa, he eyed her calmly. "I ask, you answer. Demoness Sect?"
"Yes, I'm a Demoness Sect member," Trissy said. With her life no longer at stake, her stalled mind began to churn. "A higher-Sequence Beyonder guided me into the Demoness Sect—she's still in Tingen and likely knows I'm missing. We've no feud with your Aurora Order. Why grab me?"
"Heh, let your 'mentor' come here. I don't mind," Adrian sneered. "And I'm asking the questions—don't turn it on me."
"Also, I'm saving you, Trissy," he wagged a finger. "Without my protection, you'd be in Nighthawk hands by now. Daly Simone, a seasoned Spirit Guide who's mastered acting and 'messengers.' Even with a Beyonder item, you, a Sequence 7, really think you could escape her?"
"…" Trissy turned away, clicking her tongue. "Fine, what do you want for saving me? The Aurora Order isn't this kind… Heh, saving a Demoness?"
"Believe in my Lord, how about it?"
Trissy's pupils shrank, and she recoiled, bristling. Adrian chuckled, saying gently, "Kidding. How about leaving the Demoness Sect and working for me? I'll provide digestion methods for your potion and financial support. In exchange, you just work for me."
"Sorry, I'm loyal to the Demoness Sect," Trissy refused sternly. "Hmph, you don't act like a True Creator devotee. A noble? Laughable—since when do True Creator followers recruit Demonesses?"
"Oh… I see," Adrian smiled mysteriously. "Do you know your pathway's Sequence 6 name? Ah, from your look, you don't. Bet you didn't even know you'd turn female at this stage. But really, are there that many men willingly joining the Demoness Sect? Or are you looking forward to being a beauty?"
"What?" Trissy felt a sinking dread. "What do you mean? What's the Demoness's next potion called?"
"Guess if I'll tell you? Trissy, I saved you, and you're not even grateful—no 'thank you'?"
"…Thanks," Trissy glared, spitting the words through gritted teeth. She turned away, silent. As her emotions neared a breaking point, Adrian smirked, uttering two words:
"Pleasure."
Trissy's eyes shifted, shock tinged with fear. She stared at Adrian, voice cold, "What exactly do you mean?"
"First, tell me if you'll work for me. Oh, if you really don't want to, I won't force you. As everyone knows, the Aurora Order acts with… uh, noble grace, saving without expecting reward. Even if I risked much to save you and you're ungrateful, I won't be mad," Adrian said lightly. Trissy stomped irritably, pondered, then asked gravely, "What exactly do you want me to do? Murder, robbery—I can do those. But I won't recite your Lord's honorific name or… do that…"
"Be my mole in the Demoness Sect, carry out tasks I assign when needed, and gather intel on the Demoness Sect and anything you access. I'll pay handsomely. If a task risks 'psychological shadows,' you can refuse. No need to recite my Lord's name—just communicate through my messenger. How's that?"
"…Fine," Trissy frowned, staring at Adrian. As she agreed, he swiftly tossed a paper he'd been holding into the fireplace. She froze, stunned.
"What'd you just write? A tip-off to the Storm Cathedral?"
Trissy's sharp eyes caught a few words despite his quick move, recognizing a letter reporting her identity, addressed to the Church of the Storm!
"You saw wrong. The Aurora Order and Church of the Storm are sworn enemies."
"That was definitely a tip-off!"
"You're mistaken."
Trissy opened her mouth, thought better of it, and dropped the argument. Calming down, she looked at Adrian, "I've agreed to your terms. Now tell me what you promised."
"Of course, I'm a man of my word," Adrian chuckled, propping his chin with both hands. "Want to become a man again, Trissy?"
(End of Chapter)