The night was deep.
When the Faceless Ones intruded, Ian did not panic or take any action. His mind was preoccupied with the Twilight Hermits Society and the conspiracy behind the temple.
Because of this, the Faceless Ones' operation proceeded smoothly.
Now that the distance had closed considerably, Ian could see those creatures more clearly. They were terrifying beings; to put it nicely, they possessed an aura of authority, even without anger.
Their entire bodies were shrouded in pitch-black robes, and their figures were tall and eerie. The most unsettling part was their faces. There were no facial features, only a smooth, black void, as if it had swallowed all light. When they moved, they were utterly silent, drifting across the ground like ghosts.
Ian held his breath and watched as the Faceless One stopped in front of a house.
The hexagram protection sigil drawn by Kalan was clearly visible on the doorframe of that house.
With Ian's divided attention, the Faceless One encountered no obstruction.
Like a gray-white bolt of lightning, it smashed straight through the wooden window. The shattering sound was especially harsh in the quiet night, and Ian could hear a child screaming inside.
"Where are your protective charms?" Ian grabbed Kam by the collar. "Why aren't they working?"
Cam's face was deathly pale under the moonlight.
"T-that's an officially recognized Enforcer!" He stammered in explanation. "If we interfere with law enforcement, wouldn't we become an illegal organization?"
Ian opened his mouth, but he was speechless for a moment.
The logic was absurd yet somehow reasonable. As an underground group, the Twilight Hermits Society truly could not openly oppose official authority.
"Your wards against evil can't block something like that? Then what's the point of drawing all those runes?" He asked suspiciously while looking at the wizard in front of him.
Kalan forced a bitter smile; his eyes were filled with helplessness.
"Precisely because it's legal, our magic cannot oppose it. If we dared to stop official Enforcers, wouldn't that make us an illegal organization? The entire Twilight Hermits Society would be labeled rebels! We can only protect ordinary people from evil spirits, the undead, and dark wizards. But when it comes to the Temple's 'law enforcement actions,' we have no authority to interfere."
It was, in fact, a very reasonable explanation, and Ian was rendered speechless once again.
He had never imagined that an organization fighting evil would also have to worry about legality. Helplessly, he watched the Faceless One drags the man from his bed as if he were a puppet. The man turned to leave.
The man kept confessing along the way in a trembling voice.
"I… I evaded taxes… I cheated the caravan out of money… I… I'm willing to atone… please…"
Yet the Faceless One showed no reaction, as if deaf and mute, silently dragging the man toward the door. At that moment, groups of Faceless Ones arrived in formation and broke into more houses.
From the invaded homes came the dull thuds of heavy objects hitting the ground, followed by heart-wrenching cries for mercy.
Ian cast a Disillusionment Charm and quietly followed inside.
The house was pitch dark, with only faint moonlight filtering through the window lattice. The Faceless One had already stopped outside a bedroom. On the bed lay a middle-aged couple, both fast asleep.
The Faceless One slowly raised its hand and pointed toward the husband.
In an instant, gray-black mist appeared in the air. Like a physical manifestation of sin, the mist wrapped itself around the man.
The man jolted awake, drenched in sweat and filled with fear and regret. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
The Faceless One said nothing. It simply reached out with its cold hand and grasped him lightly. The gray-black mist was forcibly stripped away. The man let out a suppressed groan and collapsed limply, as if he had been struck by a heavy blow.
"I repent! I truly repent! I'll hand over all the stolen goods..." He was begging for mercy.
The Faceless One made no sound, but Ian's magical perception detected a high-frequency vibration, as if countless tiny metal plates were grinding against each other.
Not far away, a shadow flickered across the window. An invisible force dragged a fat, middle-aged man, leaving long marks on the stone floor where his feet scraped.
"That's the crooked merchant from the market!" Cam whispered in shock. "He always cheats with the scales."
A third Faceless One dragged a burly brute out of the neighboring house. The man was still wearing the copper bracelet unique to slave traders.
A fourth escorted an elderly woman dressed in luxurious clothing.
Her expensive linen gown was stained with wine.
"Please! Spare me! Spare me!" The old woman cried. Her carefully styled hair was completely disheveled. "I've donated so much gold to the temple. I can donate even more!"
Her plea was blunt and straightforward.
If she had directed it at a different group, perhaps she might have lived.
However, the Faceless Ones turned a deaf ear to her wails. They formed a line and escorted the prisoners toward the temple in perfect unison; their synchronized movements were chilling.
Ian noticed a faint mark appearing on the forehead of each captive.
It was like a slaughter mark stamped onto a pig.
That night, Ian witnessed several instances of "law enforcement." The Faceless Ones broke into several households in succession, arresting those whose "sins manifested" while they slept... corrupt officials, murderous merchants, and trust-betraying gamblers. Without exception, they burst into tears when captured, repenting and begging for mercy and forgiveness. But the Faceless Ones never responded. They simply dragged them away, coldly harvesting souls like Death Gods.
Ultimately, the Faceless Ones gathered in the middle of the street, each dragging a trembling "sinner" behind them. They did not communicate. They merely turned in unison and slowly marched toward the temple.
Ian's mind was filled with suspicion. 'What exactly were these Faceless Ones?'
As an intensely curious wizard, Ian decided to intercept one of them for study.
"They have no eyes... so how do they perceive the world? They truly are fascinating creatures."
Ian's wand twirled elegantly between his fingers.
Before Cam could react, Ian had already dashed forward.
"Binding Shackles!"
A silver-blue beam shot from his wand, striking the Faceless One at the rear of the group with perfect accuracy. Magical chains wrapped around the gray-white figure like living snakes and dragged it away from the formation.
The bound Faceless One struggled violently. Suddenly, a crack split open in the center of its flat face, producing a harsh, metallic, twisting sound.
The trapped Faceless One suddenly turned around, facing Ian directly with its smooth "face." In an instant, a nonhuman roar erupted from its body, sounding like hundreds of people screaming at once and shaking the very air.
The sound was filled with rage, brutality, and indescribable pain. It was as if it were not an emotionless machine... but a trapped soul.
Ian remained unmoved, quickly tracing three ancient runes in the air with his wand.
"Sleeping Dust!"
Fine golden powder enveloped the struggling creature.
Its movements gradually slowed until it finally froze in place like a statue.
Ian then cast a spell to block external detection.
An invisible cage of translucent magic instantly spread across the street, trapping one of the Faceless Ones and the sinner it had captured inside. The other Faceless Ones seemed to notice something unusual, but they did not stop. They continued forward silently, as if indifferent to their companion's fate.
Ian immediately stepped forward.
He prepared to carefully examine the mysterious creature.
"Have you gone mad?" Cam rushed out from hiding. "This is openly opposing the Temple's law enforcement!"
"Quiet."
Ian was already crouching beside the Faceless One, the tip of his wand glowing with the blue light of a diagnostic spell.
"I want to see what these things actually are."
The magical beam swept across the torso of the Faceless One, revealing its internal structure. There were no bones or organs, only tiny golden gears and flowing mercury wrapped in a semi-transparent, gelatinous substance.
Most astonishing of all was the crystal core beating at the center of its chest. Its surface was engraved with countless miniature hieroglyphs.
"Remarkable."
Ian had originally assumed that it was some ancient existence similar to a Dementor, a magical creature that was used as a substitute for law enforcement before Dementors appeared in the magical world. It was a spiritual being that survived by devouring sin.
However, when he scanned its internal structure with a Life Detection Spell, he discovered a shocking fact.
The Faceless One... was an alchemical lifeform.
Upon closer inspection, it became clear that its body was not made of flesh and blood but of highly sophisticated alchemical materials.
Its skeleton was a framework of mithril mixed with a silver-mercury alloy. Its muscles were active tissue woven from magical fibers.
Its internal organs were miniature rune engines that constantly operated to maintain its movement and perception.
And it wasn't just the chest.
Its "brain" wasn't a biological organ, but rather a black crystal embedded deep within its head and filled with densely packed control runes.
It was like a magical AI.
"The craftsmanship...is quite extraordinary," Ian murmured in amazement.
This level of alchemy far surpassed that of the contemporary magical world. Not only did it imitate the structure of living organisms, but it also granted the construct autonomous movement, the ability to identify sin, and the capacity to execute tasks.
This was no longer a simple "homunculus."
It was something closer to a magical robot.
Ian took out a specially crafted silver knife and carefully scraped a small piece of tissue from the Faceless One's arm. It was not real flesh but a semi-gelatinous alchemical substance that emitted faint magical power fluctuations.
Ian placed the sample into his storage ring for later research.
At that moment, Cam looked around nervously.
"We have to leave quickly. The patrol could arrive at any moment."
"Wait one more minute." Ian pulled a small crystal vial from his sleeve, collected some of the gelatinous substance, and gathered fragments of gears. But when his fingers touched the crystal core, a sudden burning pain shot through his fingertips.
An image appeared on the crystal's surface... Countless figures were kneeling in worship before a twisted statue of the Sun God.
A thread of gold connected everyone's foreheads.
Clearly...
This was a legitimate priestly ritual taking place on-site, or rather, it was part of the operating "program" assigned to the Faceless Ones. Their task was to take the people away and offer them as sacrifices to the false Sun God.
"Sir!" Cam suddenly tugged on Ian's sleeve. "There's movement!"
As soon as he spoke, orderly footsteps echoed from the distant street. At least ten heavily armed temple guards were approaching, so Ian quickly withdrew his wand and dispelled the binding spells.
The Faceless One, now freed, slowly stood up. Its featureless "face" turned toward Ian, yet it seemed not to see him at all. It merely turned and walked in the direction its companions had gone.
"It can't see us?" Cam widened his eyes in surprise.
"It's not that it can't see us," Ian said, watching the departing figure of the Faceless One. "It's an issue with the judgment criteria."
He pointed to the golden powder scattered on the ground, specifically at the remnants that had fallen from the captured prisoners.
"These creatures only react to those they identify as 'the guilty.'"
Cam suddenly understood.
"So you weren't attacked because..."
"Because I wasn't judged to be a sinner." Ian put away the crystal vials, but his brows furrowed tighter.
"But that raises a more serious question: Who defines the standard of 'sin'? And who wrote the enforcement program for these alchemical lifeforms?"
As he spoke, the guards, forced to move about at night in their specialized uniforms, passed far away from them. Rather than patrolling, they seemed to be going through the motions, eager to finish their shift.
No one wanted to be active at night.
Even the protective suits issued by the Temple did little to ease that discomfort.
Suddenly, a blinding red light burst forth from the direction of the Temple, dyeing half the sky blood-red. Ian and Cam looked up and saw seven black shadows rising from the temple spire and forming a gigantic, scale-shaped symbol in the night sky.
"The judgment has begun..." Cam's voice trembled. "Those people who were captured will be sent to..."
"Not just judgment."
Ian's voice was low, like distant thunder. His gray-green eyes were fixed on the pattern of twisted scales beneath the crimson sky.
"There was nothing like this last night."
Cam swallowed nervously, his wand trembling slightly.
"You mean... this is specifically aimed at us?"
Ian did not answer immediately.
His gaze swept across the now silent streets. Those residents who had been screaming moments ago had retreated into their homes, remaining silent as the grave.
Husbands, family members... being taken away no longer mattered.
They, too, sensed that something was wrong.
Even the cries of children had been silenced.
The entire city of Memphis seemed as if someone had pressed pause on it. Only the strange buzzing coming from the temple remained, like thousands of bees beating their wings inside a metal container.
"Listen," Ian said, raising a finger.
From a distant street corner came a faint, drifting song.
The melody was disturbingly strange, neither a cheerful folk tune nor a mournful lament, but rather, a mechanical chant devoid of emotion.
Every note was so precise that it felt as though it had been measured with a ruler.
"Moon rises... moon falls... the bride dresses her hair..."
The lyrics drifted faintly through the air.
Cam's pupils suddenly shrank.
"What the hell is that?"
Ian's wand had already shifted into a combat stance, its tip glowing with a dim blue light. As the singing drew nearer, a dark figure slowly emerged from the corner of the street.
It was a humanoid figure wearing a tattered wedding dress. With every step it took, murky liquid dripped from the hem of its skirt, corroding small pits into the stone pavement.
"Gold comb... comb the blond hair... silver comb... comb the silver veil..."
The song grew clearer, and the dark figure gradually revealed its appearance.
When the moonlight fell upon her pale face, Ian's breath caught in his throat.
It was the maid who had died by the riverside that morning.
Her eye sockets were still stuffed with fine golden sand, but now the sand was moving unnaturally. It writhed like living creatures and formed strange patterns.
Cam sucked in a sharp breath.
"That's impossible. We clearly saw the temple take her corpse..."
The maid suddenly stopped walking as her neck was twisted at an impossible angle. Her mouth opened wide, so wide that the corners of her lips split, revealing rows of needle-like teeth.
The song continued to pour out from that dark cavern of a mouth.
"The bride waits for the groom. Waits for the sun."
Ian's magical perception suddenly went into berserk-alarm mode.
At least seven different curses swirled around the walking corpse, each one capable of instantly killing an ordinary wizard.
Even more terrifying was that the magical fluctuations emanating from her body were identical to those of the Embryo beneath the Temple.
(End of Chapter)
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