Leilin strolled out of his room and made his way to Isabelle's quarters.
Since their last encounter, Isabelle had become notably withdrawn — she had even dismissed the maids who used to attend her.
Knock, knock! Leilin rapped politely on the door.
"Who is it? Didn't I say I didn't want to be disturbed?" Isabelle's voice came from inside, tinged with irritation.
"It's me," Leilin replied calmly.
The door swung open, revealing Isabelle's face. Her cheeks were flushed an unnatural shade of red, as though she had just finished some vigorous physical activity — or perhaps... a ritual?
"What do you want? I was about to rest!"
The moment she saw Leilin, a flicker of panic crossed her face.
"Aren't you going to invite me in?" Leilin smiled.
"Barging into a young lady's private chambers at a time like this isn't very gentlemanly, is it? Or have you gone bad on me, little cousin?"
Isabelle's eyes glinted with a playful light as she lazily leaned against the doorframe, speaking in a deliberately teasing tone.
Leilin found this affected performance rather amusing. When it came to actual experience, he was streets ahead of this pretender by a wide margin.
"Gone bad? Why don't you try me and find out?"
Wearing a roguish grin, Leilin leaned in close and took a deliberate sniff near her pale neck. A faint feminine scent mingled with some peculiar odor wafted into his nostrils.
"What do you think you're doing?" The girl flushed crimson and dodged aside, and Leilin slipped into the room.
The furnishings hadn't changed much, but the air carried a faint, coppery tang — the unmistakable scent of blood. It had been cleaned and masked as best as possible, but Leilin's brow furrowed nonetheless.
"About what happened before. Is there anything you want to tell me?"
He settled onto the sofa, making an effort to sound sincere. "After all, you're my cousin. I don't want you carrying this burden alone."
"It's nothing... it's already over..." Isabelle's expression stiffened for a moment before she replied with a show of nonchalance.
This pretense of resilience made Leilin sigh inwardly.
Of course, he understood that pushing the issue now wouldn't serve any purpose. The traces of Negative Energy contamination in this room were glaringly obvious, but compared to the experiments he himself was planning, what she had done was as pure as a little lamb's.
"All right. I'm here to ask for your help."
Leilin changed his approach. He had originally thought keeping her stationed here would be a good solution, but it was becoming clear that leaving her at the manor would only invite greater trouble.
"What kind of trouble?" A cold gleam flashed in Isabelle's eyes.
"It's like this..." Leilin scratched his head and proceeded to tell her about Marquis Lewis and Viscount Dim, particularly the matter of pirates landing to launch an attack.
"Are you saying... the destruction of my family was also their doing?"
Isabelle's hand clenched, and a chunk of the black ironwood chair she was gripping snapped clean off.
"Physical strength like that..." Leilin's pupils contracted slightly. "It surpasses that of many Fifth-rank professionals. Possibly approaching the Tenth rank. Those demons and devils really are generous — though the price is the sacrificer's soul..."
He had heard of the practice of continuously offering blood sacrifices to receive demonic empowerment. Such demon cultists were universally hunted down by the churches of every god on the continent. And if word ever got out that the Faolan Family was sheltering one, the trouble it would bring would dwarf anything Marquis Lewis could threaten.
"I can't say for certain. It's only a possibility..."
Leilin stroked his chin, choosing not to deceive her on this matter.
"Good. Then I'll go investigate personally. And these pirates dared to trespass on Faolan Family territory — we'll make them pay in blood. Their souls will rot in Hell, begging for forgiveness!"
Isabelle's beautiful eyes narrowed. Beyond the killing intent, there seemed to be a certain hunger lurking there.
"Thank you so much, cousin!" Leilin thought to himself with a dry chuckle, but on his face he wore a brilliant smile.
"Rest easy. We're family, after all — I'll make sure you're well taken care of," Isabelle promised, her expression firm and resolute.
After thanking her once more, Leilin withdrew. The smile on his face faded bit by bit as soon as he was outside.
"The open seas stretch endlessly, full of all manner of scum and degenerates cast off from the continent. Sailors of that era are no better — oathbreakers and devil cultists blend freely among them. It's a truly motley crowd. If cousin hides herself in their midst, she won't draw any suspicion..."
Leilin's eyes flickered with thought.
As a demon cultist, Isabelle absolutely could not remain in the family estate. Doing so would only bring trouble his way — the kind that never ended. The power of divine churches dominated the peak of the Material World. If the Faolan Family were discovered harboring a demon cultist, the consequences would be catastrophic.
It was precisely for this reason that only the vast open seas could serve as a suitable refuge for her.
"There's still the problem that even though those entities have granted cousin considerable power, they'll inevitably demand a return. The price could very well be her soul..."
Leilin's expression grew somber. "On the open seas, the disappearance of a few scoundrel sailors wouldn't raise any eyebrows. For now, there should be enough offerings to satisfy them and buy some time..."
That time, of course, was the time Leilin needed to grow stronger.
As long as his own power was sufficient, whether it was Marquis Lewis's relentless pressure or the demonic contract hanging over his cousin, he would have the confidence to deal with it all.
But a Sixth-rank
"Plans are always changing... and right now, I desperately need power. Perhaps... it's time to take a gamble?"
Leilin made his decision in secret.
This attack would inevitably expose a portion of his strength. And if Viscount Dim could deploy an assassination squad led by a Seventh-rank assassin right from the start, then the pirate forces that followed would surely be far more formidable.
Even with his household retainers and his cousin both lending aid, Leilin still felt it wasn't nearly enough. He needed to give himself a greater edge.
Back in his own room, Leilin went straight into his laboratory.
He had posted a strict order that this place was off-limits — even the Claire sisters were forbidden from entering. Several early-warning formations hummed faithfully around the perimeter.
The smooth workbench was still lined with neatly arranged test tubes and glass vessels, along with various alchemical instruments that would make many destitute wizard apprentices green with envy.
Unfortunately, in Leilin's eyes, these were merely a facade.
Click. Click. As Leilin began pulling a lever beneath the workbench, the grinding of gears echoed through the room.
With a soft whir, the entire workbench slid to the left, revealing a downward passage.
"Wizards place great trust in spells, but there are far too many items and skills on this world capable of detecting magical fluctuations. A simple mechanical device like this, on the other hand, can effectively conceal certain secrets..."
Leilin carried an oil lamp down the stone staircase. After descending roughly ten meters, he arrived before a massive slab of rock.
The enormous granite block stood with an air of near-impenetrable solidity, sealing every crack and crevice — as though this had always been nothing more than a dead end.
"Magic Seal — Open!"
A spell rune on Leilin's hand pulsed with light, and under its glow, the granite surface seemed to soften, parting to reveal a brightly lit corridor.
Leilin stepped inside without hesitation and hung the oil lamp on the wall.
Behind the boulder lay another small laboratory. The upper level employed mundane mechanical devices to guard against magical detection, while the lower level was fitted with spell traps — a testament to just how seriously Leilin took this place.
Deep underground, the lab occupied only a few square meters, most of which was taken up by an ancient, heavy wooden desk. There was barely enough room for a person to stand, and the low ceiling added to the oppressive atmosphere.
In the corners and across the floor, the smell of tar was unmistakable — the mark of a far more terrifying self-immolation mechanism.
At the first sign of trouble, a single spark could reduce everything here to scorched earth, erasing every trace.
The reason for all this was simple: the experiments Leilin conducted here were far too heretical. If discovered, there would be no question — absolute heresy!!!
"It looks like it's nearly complete..."
Leilin gazed at an enormous culture dish on the desk, filled with a mass of bright red, boiling flesh that gave off the ominous aura of blood.
"And... it."
In the corner of the desk sat a wooden statue — a depiction of a devil with demonic wings, a multitude of compound eyes, and six fingers. A palpable aura of evil radiated from it continuously.
This was a devotional idol Leilin had carved from memory, modeled after Belzebub. Possessing such a devil's effigy was an instant death sentence at the stake if caught by any temple — the king himself would be no exception!!!
Of course, none of these taboos meant much to Leilin. His nerve was bold enough to leave even the gods dumbfounded.
"It seems... Belzebub truly has fallen into a deep slumber. Even prayer and sacrifice go unanswered..."
Leilin's hand swept across the surface of the devil's statue, his eyes gleaming with an unreadable light.
Come to think of it, he himself was the very cause of all this. Had he not seized the majority of Belzebub's rule-power and even destroyed more than half of the devil lord's true spirit, that archdevil would never have been so grievously wounded as to fall into slumber.