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An invisible and intangible aura permeated its body, and the inchworm knew that its final fate of forcibly breaking through would only be to be strangled into a pile of minced meat.
Under the chilling pressure of impending death, he finally slowly stretched out his hands and begged for mercy.
"Madam, I'm just here to gather information; it's completely irrelevant. Even if you kill me, the Obscure Society will simply send another person..."
Fran's expression did not change upon hearing this. He simply extended the torso and bladed limbs of the "Matching Spine" Sphinx one after another until they were completely detached from its body.
“Mr. Inchworm, you underestimate yourself too much. As a spiritually rich third-tier assistant priest, your chances of advancement are far greater than those of Louisa, that discarded pawn. Who would easily use someone like that as a scout?”
When his secrets were revealed, the inchworm was momentarily surprised and suspicious, and his expression became somewhat strange. However, this was not apparent under the cover of his mask.
My disguise was meticulously crafted; even a seasoned hunter shouldn't be able to see through it at a glance. Yet, she seemed to know almost everything about me…
With such a deep understanding of moths, she must truly be a follower of the ancient unifying school of thought that believes in the unity of two faiths.
"Lady Hermit, even though my identity has some value, it is only relative. An ordinary person who has not yet begun to shed his mortal body, no matter how talented... is nothing more than a consumable that needs to be used sparingly in the eyes of the Society's priests."
"I am merely an object; it doesn't matter who uses me." Uncle
As he spoke, his tone gradually returned to calm. But if you looked closely, you could see that his fingers were still trembling slightly.
"I can work for the Misty Society, and I can work for you. If you're willing to spare my life, I will repay you with appropriate value..." Zero
Fran neither agreed nor disagreed with the inchworm's explanation.
The Moth's disciples never speak the truth; all their guarantees and oaths can be seen as irresponsible expedients.
Lying is an ancient art. It changes its form with the tides of time, whether it is nine parts truth and one part falsehood, or nine parts falsehood and one part truth, there is no fixed rule... it is all just going with the flow.
If a deception is crafted skillfully enough, even the absolute truth can be convincing.
“Oh… Mr. Inchworm, you seem very nervous. But actually, I don’t intend to do anything to you. This is just a friendly warning.”
"Trying to climb higher on the ladder using the remains of shelled creatures will only lead to disaster. The corpses become tainted the moment they die. To put them into the ascension ritual without any treatment... Ha, a dangerous and foolish waste of effort."
Fran demonstrated the "chimera" sphinx to a disciple of the Moth Cult simply to verify some of his conjectures while treating Louisa.
It seems that devotees of the night moth would regard this spine, made of living metal, as a symbol of some kind of metamorphosis.
"A warning? Hmm... I understand. I will keep the contents of this investigation a secret. I will not report your information or the whereabouts of that holy remains..."
The inchworm carefully considered Fran's attitude, racking its brains to figure out how to minimize its own risks.
The Hermit Lady's transformed form was near perfect, almost completely shedding any trace of humanity and becoming a pure mythical being. This was something those young priests, just beginning their training, could not achieve…
Even a high-ranking priest who has reached the fifth tier might not be able to reach this level; it would probably require an "Apostle" at an even higher level.
"Keep thinking, Mr. Inchworm. Do I really need your help to keep this a secret? If I want to stay hidden, why should I tell you all this?"
"Or do you believe you have the ability to find my trail?"
Fran shook his index finger slightly with a hint of regret, seemingly dissatisfied with his answer.
Without any hesitation, the inchworm immediately changed its story.
"Lady Hermit, since this is your wish, please tell me... what should I say to the Society? Is there anything I should omit?"
He tried to guess Fran's intentions, wondering if the other man wanted to use him to mislead the Misty Society.
As long as something demonstrates value, it won't be easily discarded. In a cruel, chaotic lawless place like Gormouth, fools are either buried in the ashes or sunk into the bay.
"Just report the truth, no need to worry about monthly fees. Tell them everything you know."
Fran did not mention anything that needed to be concealed, and this almost conceited attitude aroused the inchworm's vigilance.
Does the reclusive lady not care about exposing herself?
Considering her initial statement that "this was just a well-intentioned warning"... does that mean the target of her warning wasn't herself, but the Obscure Society? If she is indeed an apostle, it's not surprising that she holds such an arrogant attitude.
"Okay...as you wish."
The inchworm responded cautiously, and quietly examined the spinal creation that had completely separated from Fran's body.
There was no distortion or erosion, nor any bloated feeling of insects; its spirituality was contained within with extreme restraint. Such a beautiful, ethereal form... such a person arriving in the Third Habitat is like a mythical creature wandering into a flock of sheep.
The high priest Grey Scar, who was the six-eyed raven, could only be considered a slightly stronger sheepdog in comparison.
Is it possible that the Hermit Lady herself held a position within the Misty Society? Or perhaps her very existence predates the society itself?
"Let's go, Mr. Inchworm. If we drag this out any longer, the free trade phase will end."
The inchworm's reaction to the threat was not much different from what Fran had imagined. She also retracted the chimera that had detached from her body and was quite satisfied, preparing to end the contact.
From this perspective, the "chimera" sphinx does indeed bear a striking resemblance to the fully metamorphosed form of the Moth Cult Apostles.
The inchworm readily agreed.
"Yes, Lady Hermit."
His expression was humble and respectful. This was the most basic courtesy when facing a high-ranking disciple who worshipped the same deity.
Rather than completing the investigative tasks assigned by the Misty Society, he was more interested in trying to establish a relationship with the woman before him. It was better to serve a true Moth Apostle than to be at the mercy of those aging, undead insects of the Misty Society.
Ascension from a higher being is always far more effective than blindly groping in the dark…
As the two were about to leave the private meeting room, the inchworm suddenly remembered that he hadn't taken the check he had left on the table.
He looked back and saw only an empty table; the things that had been placed on it seemed to have been taken away long ago.
The inchworm didn't feel anything different; it just felt that the hermit lady indeed had the consistent style of the ancient unifying school... namely, "a rigorous spirit of contract".
……
Seeing that Ms. Vivian had not returned for a long time, Detricka, who had been waiting for some time, maintained a calm demeanor on the surface, but in reality, she was already in a state of panic.
She gently rubbed her trouser leg with her palm to wipe away the slight sweat that had seeped out.
Ms. Vivian was his benefactor, and if any serious conflict arose, he would be directly responsible. As an unknown outsider, she'd be lucky to be forced to do hard labor at the docks for the rest of her life, and that would be considered leniency from the cult.
Just as her unease was building, Fran had already returned to his seat with the help of a waiter.
“Ms. Vivian, you’re finally back…”
"Don't worry, Detrica. It's just a simple and friendly deal."
She lifted her gauze skirt and slowly sat down, then comforted the somewhat uneasy young thief.
The high priest, Grayscar, watched Fran and the inchworm return to the sales site, his eyes, hidden in the shadow of his mask, gleaming thoughtfully.
As a deity who possesses the rules of observation, the Six-Eyed Raven's disciples can also observe subtle changes in others. Even through masks and black robes, they can discern unique characteristics in some people.
Compared to his confident and upright posture before entering the meeting room, the inchworm now leans forward slightly, exuding a sense of humility.
While not exactly flattering, he did maintain a waiter's usual demeanor.
Aside from that, this guy walked cautiously behind the hermit lady, maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far. He seemed not to dare to overstep his bounds in the slightest.
Hmm...it seems that lady from the Moth Unification faction is even more mysterious than I expected. Hey, I'm really curious what those two were talking about. I should have gone and listened in myself.
As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Graymark continued to oversee the free trade of goods.
……
Fran was in a good mood when he returned to his seat, and his amber eyes no longer held any languor.
With the 600 Norrington silver provided by the inchworm, plus the 800 silver appearance fee from the previous White Cup Academic Symposium and the consultation fee from the Hunter, he probably wouldn't have to worry about financial problems for a long time.
While it wouldn't be difficult for Fran to amass wealth quickly, it would be too deliberate; her habit was to only collect the fees she deserved from house calls.
Recalling his conversation with the inchworm, Fran felt a strange sense of emotion.
The secret disciples of Golmouth seemed to possess a decisive quality. How to describe it specifically? Well… they didn't hesitate for a moment when begging for mercy.
Whether it was Detrick, Luisa, or the inchworm, they all almost immediately yielded when they decided to beg for mercy, like sardines, showing no desire to resist. Luisa's eventual outburst was mainly due to her unwillingness to accept treatment.
Clearly, they valued their lives far more than the fanatics of Funeral Home and those extremely devout believers.
"Ms. Vivian, um... do you really know about Louisa, that information broker?"
While Fran was still lost in his thoughts, Detrica quietly asked about what had just happened.
"of course."
As she spoke, she gently stroked her brass pocket watch with her fingertips.
The effect of this relic is more manifested in "mental interference," unlike the White Continent Cup Secret Technique Nine [Virtual Meeting One] which can quickly create a barrier that cannot be spied on. However, it can still greatly eliminate the presence of conversations and prevent possible eavesdropping.
If precautions aren't taken in this regard, the codename "Hermit" becomes meaningless. Everyone who overheard Detrica's conversation will learn that their real name is Vivian...
"What's wrong? Do you know Louisa?"
"Yes. Louisa's information network is indeed excellent, but it's very expensive, and she's also quite ruthless. She's jealous of young people and sometimes tries to lure inexperienced spies to dangerous places to their deaths..."
When she spoke of this, Detricka bit her lip, seemingly indignant.
"The senior who taught me was tricked by her into going to the lost city of Morion with a high price. It has been five years since then, and there has been no news of her."
"A fallen city?"
Fran had never paid much attention to such recent events. Hearing Detrick mention them, however, piqued his curiosity.
"Mollion is the smallest coastal town in Golmouth. It also has a port, but it is located in a remote area and is frozen for several months each year. Therefore, it does not usually receive much attention."
"Until a natural disaster struck that city. A massive number of evil creatures from the Abyss appeared in the city, accompanied by tsunamis, torrential rains, and an unknown disease. And then... it was completely overrun."
Detricka's tone was firm, but her gaze flickered slightly, revealing a hint of fear.
Although Foy's geographical location is relatively safe, and no large-scale disasters have occurred in the past thousand years... natural disasters never come without warning. They only appear suddenly without any indication, and then crush everything with irresistible power.
"Speaking of which, Norrington seems to have survived a natural disaster. According to some insiders, it was a great plague that swept through the entire city. Getting infected was like having death kiss your forehead."
“Even in that situation, it wasn’t destroyed, which explains why so many cults want to set up branches in Norrington.”
"Hey."
Upon hearing Derica suddenly bring up something familiar to him, Fran unconsciously touched his veil, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.
"That was indeed a natural disaster that remains fresh in our memories... It feels like yesterday, even though it happened twenty years ago."
Her tone remained as calm as ever, yet it seemed as if she were sighing.
Derica sensed the change in Ms. Vivian's mood, pursed her lips slightly, and wisely refrained from replying.
Oh… she’s the hunter from Norrington, and might even have survived the plague. Did this topic bring up unpleasant memories? How stupid of me to bring this up all of a sudden…
"Um, Ms. Vivian, sometimes I tend to say whatever comes to mind..."
Seeing Detricka's embarrassed and reserved state, Fran raised his knuckles and gently tapped her forehead. This brought the little incident to a close.
“It’s all in the past, Detrica, don’t worry about it. The Great Plague isn’t some taboo subject that can’t be discussed.”
During their conversation, the free trade phase had already ended, and the official sale of the Six-Eyed Raven's goods was about to begin.
Many of the regular customers who had been silent at this moment straightened up slightly and focused their attention on the gray marks that were about to be displayed for auction.
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Wow! Perfect attendance! Happy New Year!
Chapter Seventy-Eight: The Everlasting Branch
Graymark tapped on the counter displaying the goods for sale, signaling the start of the second phase of the process.
"I'm sure you all don't want to hear me ramble on with meaningless nonsense anymore... Let's officially begin this 'full moon auction'."
As he spoke, he placed the raven-eye gemstone, which he had obtained through a sacrificial ceremony, in the most conspicuous place as the first item to be auctioned.
“As is customary, we will sell the ‘gifts’ obtained from this ceremony first.”
"'Raven's Eye Stone.' It can assist in the construction of arcane models and also serve as a material for imbuing certain rituals with spiritual energy. It is used to provide enlightening spiritual elements of a glimpse-like nature. Of course, some disciples of the assistant priest rank also use it to aid in their advancement..."
"Starting price is 300 silver dollars, and each bid increment must be no less than 50 silver dollars."
Before Gray Scar had even finished speaking, some of the participants had already started making bids.
"400 Gore Silver".
The speaker was Zarik, who had been guarding the courtyard gate. He was also a disciple of the Six-Eyed Raven, and although his financial situation wasn't great, he didn't seem willing to give up this material that could help him advance his Spirit Condensation.
“Everyone is so young, they can advance gradually by stealing lost items even without relying on such things. But I, an old man, am living one less day a day. Even if I climb one more level, I can live for many more years.”
"This amount of money is almost enough to deplete my savings, so please be understanding and don't raise the price too much..."
Seeing Fran watching the auction process with great interest, Derica whispered a reminder.
“Ms. Vivian, that old bastard Zarrick is a shill. He does this every year during the Plum Moon Festival when there are Raven's Eye stones to drive up the price. He probably has some kind of agreement with him so he can get a cut.”