Several days later, in Port Enmat. Inside a repaired inn beside the ruins of the Fishing Club.
"So in the end, Lady M's body was never found?"
Leonard asked.
"Right. She was at the center of the explosion, so she should've been blown to smithereens long ago.
Forget about her; even Captain Edward and Léon had nothing left of them."
Silas cut off a piece of medium-rare steak, speared it with his fork, and stuffed the bloody morsel into his mouth.
Ever since his body's recovery ability had improved, for some reason, he'd developed a tremendous interest in fresh meat.
After eating it, he always felt much better physically.
"That Grade 1 Sealed Artifact was caught in the ritual's effects and completely destroyed?"
Klein also asked curiously.
"Yes. As for what happened to those beyonder characteristics in the end, whether they can be found, I have no idea."
"So you..."
"Alright, alright. For the Goddess's sake, I'm begging you not to ask anymore." Silas set down his knife and fork helplessly.
"I've already been asked similar questions countless times by the people from the Holy Cathedral. I'm asking you to spare me and let me finish this steak first, okay?"
"...Of course."
Leonard and Klein exchanged glances and shrugged.
That said, they still couldn't help casting probing looks at Silas.
After all, what he killed was... a Sequence 5!
Sequence 5s in the Evernight Goddess Church could already become high-ranking members.
For such a powerful figure to be killed by a Sequence 9 beyonder like him felt utterly incredible, no matter how you thought about it.
Silas couldn't read minds.
Otherwise, if he knew what the two were thinking, he would definitely cry out his grievance.
After all, defeating Lady M had relied on a series of specific conditions coming together.
First, Lady M hadn't taken Silas seriously from the start.
And because she needed him as material, she hadn't killed him directly; otherwise, he wouldn't have survived to the end.
Second, Silas had used a powerful ritual to trap Lady M in the flesh mass, where she was affected by both the flesh and the True Creator, greatly reducing her strength.
Finally, there was help from mystical items and his cheat ability. The illusory tide lifted the mind control, Mr. Azik's bone whistle, the Grade 1 Sealed Artifact "Staff of Chaos," especially the latter, which was even destroyed in the process, ultimately preventing a divine descent.
Regardless, I at least survived.
After finishing the steak, Silas set down his knife and fork. Feeling the satisfaction in his stomach, he let out a long sigh.
As for the beyonders of Port Enmat, they weren't so fortunate.
Their captain sacrificed; numerous team members were dead or injured, the team headquarters were blown up, and a crucial Grade 1 Sealed Artifact was destroyed. Their situation could be described as utterly miserable.
On the day of the explosion, reinforcements had just arrived from all directions and happened to witness a grand and spectacular fireworks display.
They rescued the unconscious Silas and Lady Daly, dealt with the mess, sealed off the scene, evacuated nearby residents, and contacted the Church of Evernight's Holy Cathedral... They were overwhelmed with work.
By the time Silas woke up, specialists sent by the Holy Cathedral to investigate him were watching him like hawks.
Silas was confined and continuously interrogated, subjected to examinations by various mystical items and rituals.
Only after the specialists finally confirmed that everything he said was true was he released and allowed to see his two teammates.
Rising from the dining table, Silas casually sat down in a nearby armchair and picked up a newspaper.
The paper was called the Port Enmat Post, and its front-page headline was about the aftermath of that explosion:
To prevent gas leaks from causing another tragedy, officials establish a special action group to thoroughly inspect citywide pipeline issues...
That's right.
The two explosions at the Fishing Club and the warehouse district were officially claimed to be gas leaks.
So aside from some panic caused by the explosion that day, Port Enmat hadn't had much reaction. The citizens didn't know they'd luckily escaped a catastrophic divine descent.
Leonard and Klein held back for quite a while, but still couldn't resist coming over to ask Silas about the details.
Silas had no choice but to tell them the story once more.
"How ironic. The ritual Lady M created for the True Creator's descent ultimately became the key to killing her."
After hearing Silas's story, Klein shook his head.
"Right. And I always feel that the True Creator doesn't care about these servants of His.
He just treats them as tools for His descent into the world... Even if He grants them many blessings, it's all based on that purpose."
Silas said.
Leonard nodded upon hearing this. "I once heard this saying: Believe in the might of the deities, but don't believe in their mercy."
Silas felt sincere agreement at those words:
"Yes, the gods are not merciful..."
The moment those words left his mouth, his mind suddenly experienced a moment of clarity.
His body, heart, and spirituality harmoniously and mysteriously merged together. He took a deep breath, leaning back slightly, as if hearing the illusory sound of something shattering by his ear.
The stubborn remnants of the potion within his body dissolved, completely digested and integrated as one.
His spirit felt unprecedentedly relaxed. The whispers and lines in the corners were gone without a trace.
Without anyone telling him, Silas understood on his own: at this moment, he had become a true "Secrets Suppliant."
Lifting his head, he found his two teammates observing him. After making eye contact, both showed knowing smiles.
Right, they knew the acting method. They should also know what complete digestion felt like...
"That thing's finished?"
"Yeah."
"Pretty fast."
"Pure luck."
The three exchanged a few cryptic remarks like they were speaking in riddles.
Between jokes, Silas had already summarized the acting principles of the Secrets Suppliant based on his own experiences:
Pray to hidden existences and establish connections.
That was just the foundation. More importantly, what came after establishing the connection.
You could pray to great existences for power, but don't forget: don't blindly trust them, don't pray excessively, don't expect them to help you for no reason.
Because they are not merciful.
Having digested the potion and savoring the feeling, Silas had just exchanged a few words with his teammates when an injured, beautiful lady walked up.
"Lady Daly."
Several people greeted her.
"Hello, everyone."
Lady Daly looked somewhat downcast, her arm in a cast from a fall during the explosion.
"The collective funeral for Port Enmat's Nighthawks is about to begin. Will you be attending?"
Hearing this, the smiles on the three people's faces couldn't help but fade.
————
Port Enmat Public Cemetery.
More than a dozen freshly dug holes were arranged in a row. On the tombstones surrounded by flowers were black and white photographs.
Brand-new coffins were carried by police officers and placed into the graves.
This step should have been carried out by the Nighthawks themselves... but there weren't many Nighthawks left in Port Enmat.
The police officers' steps were uneven, some heavy, some light, because some of the coffins contained only a set of clothes.
"...They are great guardians. May the Goddess lovingly bestow eternal rest and watch over them until eternity..."
The priest stood before the crowd of relatives and friends, praying deeply and serenely amid the suppressed crying behind him.
More than a dozen coffins were quietly arranged together, just as they had relied on each other and fought side by side when alive, gradually being covered by earth.
The crying in the cemetery grew somewhat louder.
Silas watched this scene from afar, his emotions complex.
He didn't dare imagine what Cecilia would be like if it were him being buried at today's funeral.
"Hey, Silas."
Just then, he heard someone calling him.
Turning to look, it was that young woman from the Steam Church, Grela. Today, she had her hair neatly combed and wore a black dress.
"Oh, it's you. Sorry, I'm about to return to Tingen. The ritual will have to wait until..."
"It's fine. I'll just give it to you directly."
Grela interrupted him, saying glumly, "You Nighthawks are... really something."
With that, she handed several yellowed pages to Silas.