Witch Monastery

Chapter 398: The Secret Contact Point

While rushing anxiously about his sister’s fate, Shapiro never noticed a tiny worm landing on his shoulder, slipping silently beneath his cloak and hiding away.

He hurried back to his secret safehouse, headed down to the basement, flicked on the light, and faced the intricate magic circle etched into the floor. There, he stopped short, dazed and unsure of himself.

Lost in thought, he lingered for a long time until, as if reaching some conclusion, he took a deep breath, resolved himself, and moved to the end of the room to light an incense stick, chanting an incantation under his breath.

Soon, the curling smoke coalesced into the form of a winged woman—Sulpharlo’s commanding voice rang out: "Shapiro? Why have you called me?"

Shapiro took a steadying breath and replied, "Ancestor, I’ve been thinking things over, and I might have a new reason that could persuade my sister Malena to join us in the Great Vengeance!"

"But I have to ask your approval first. If you grant my request, I’ll head to the South Harbor District tonight and find her tomorrow morning—I’ll convince her!"

Sulpharlo’s tone shifted slightly. "Oh? Weren’t you against her getting involved?"

"To be honest, I reconsidered your suggestion and, yes, she’s too fragile—maybe it’s best she isn’t part of this."

Shapiro’s voice rose, full of passion: "But you said before—she and her awakened daughter are incredibly important to you, absolutely irreplaceable!"

Sulpharlo was momentarily caught off guard. "Er, perhaps I did say that, but there’s no need to get so worked up."

"Sorry, Ancestor!" Shapiro bowed low, doing his best to express respect and humility. "I just mean, for something this important, leaving her out is unforgivable. That’s why I decided to find her first thing tomorrow..."

"Ugh..." Sulpharlo hesitated, then said, "You really don’t have to rush. After last time, I checked on her myself. I think it’s better not to disturb her peaceful life."

Sulpharlo’s gaze was distant, almost predatory as she stared at her ancestor’s phantom image. "Ancestor, have you really changed your mind?"

"Yes." Sulpharlo nodded. "She’s important, but not irreplaceable. Shapiro, as the last male of your family, if your sister and niece can’t shoulder this mission, you must carry it yourself!"

"They’re doing fine. Don’t worry about them. What’s urgent now is for you to reach out to the Dark Elf—as I instructed. Strike a deal with them."

"If all goes well, when the year ends and the festivals roll around, you can approach your sister with honor, fame, and wealth. Wouldn’t that be better?"

With this kind of gentle persuasion, Shapiro lowered his head, voice trembling. "I understand..."

"Work hard, Shapiro." Sulpharlo painted a grand vision. "Once you restore your great house, you’ll become a legend, a name future adventurers will revere!"

"Your name will be carved in history, idolized by generations of adventurers!"

As she finished, the smoke gradually dissipated and Sulpharlo’s image faded away. Shapiro trembled; with his ancestor gone, he could finally drop the act—his real emotions came rushing out. "Aaah—!"

BANG—!

He smashed his fist into the ground, shattering the flagstones. Crimson blood trickled down his hand, but he didn’t even notice.

Rage burned inside him. The one who had given him power—his most respected ancestor—had turned out to be just another despicable schemer, secretly kidnapping his last remaining family!

Not the slightest respect for his wishes!

"No, no, that’s not right..."

Suddenly he gasped raggedly, hope flaring up again: "Maybe the ancestor really was persuaded, and she never kidnapped my sister at all. Or maybe... maybe it wasn’t even her who took Malena..."

He couldn’t accept the truth. Ignoring his torn-up hand, he staggered to his feet and stumbled toward the exit.

As he moved, he muttered to himself, like self-reassurance: "I’ve got to see for myself. That Charles guy’s a schemer—sure, my sister likes him, but I won’t be tricked by him..."

Still reeling, he left the basement, out of the room, and ran due south. It was late at night—no more carriages to the South Harbor District. He didn’t care. Channeling magic into his body, he sped down the empty streets.

He was going to South Harbor right now—to ask, face-to-face, about everything.

The North Harbor District fell silent again, but it wasn’t long before the door to Shapiro’s "ancestor-contact" room was quietly pried open. Three figures—one man, two women—slipped inside.

Surveying the spartan furnishings, Charles couldn’t help but comment, "I’m surprised—a rich boy like him, living rough out here."

Next to him, Nymeria chewed on a sweet rice cake she’d stashed in her Bag of Holding, mumbling, "Rich kids can be tough, too. If they’ve had good training, anybody can handle it."

Charles just chuckled, not interested in arguing, and said, "Let’s go, Andny—lead the way, let’s check out the basement!"

Andny nodded. Guided by the perception of her worm familiar, she had no trouble finding the basement entrance under the wooden tea table. The three worked together to move it and pried open the hatch, descending the steps into the very same basement where Shapiro had conducted his ritual.

The sight of the massive magic circle, the black-purple inscriptions, the huge six-pointed star, and the faint tang of fresh blood wiped the smile from Charles’s face, turning him utterly grave.

Just as I suspected!

That "angel" was never really a pure angel!

Or more specifically: she’s a fallen angel—an Erinyes!

I just don’t know how she managed to disguise herself as a normal angel, or what kind of magic she used to amp her own speed and mask her real nature!

Taking a deep breath, Charles gradually relaxed.

But that’s fine. Since she’s definitely a fallen angel, a fiend after all, the tricks she uses are all tricks from the fiendish playbook.

That makes her a lot less daunting to deal with.

~~~

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