High Priest Ghostly Face.

Such major, earth-shaking changes had occurred — and he was only now learning about them, that too from the mouths of others.

Alexandria said no more, letting the mysterious mosquito digest the information in silence.

Unbeknownst to him, her eyes occasionally flicked toward Ricky, calmly scanning his frame.

"It is indeed him…"

She thought to herself with certainty. This was the same puny mosquito from before.

The realization left her deeply unsettled. The sheer leap in his power… it made no sense. How had he grown so fast, so monstrously fast?

Boar, on the other hand, hadn't uttered a single word. His bulky figure was rigid, tense like a stretched bowstring. It was clear — he feared an unexpected attack.

Ricky noticed the boar's guarded expression and chuckled inwardly.

'Cautious and steady... I like him.'

He was impressed. Even in this uncertain situation, the beast remained clear-headed. Calm. Observant. Not a fool driven by emotion.

And that wasn't the only reason for his interest — one of Ricky's more reliable skills, Superior Iron Frame, originated from this very boar.

"They're both close to reaching Stage 2…"

"Hmm, maybe I should take them under my wing…"

The idea drifted lazily through his mind, and after a moment of thought, he made his decision.

If their character proved reliable, helping them ascend wouldn't be a bad investment.

He sent a soft sound transmission toward the two:

"If you don't have anywhere to go… you can follow me."

His words echoed like a ripple through their minds.

"Follow you…"

Boar and Alexandria fell into silence. Their eyes flickered with indecision — but only for a moment.

Then, as if deciding with a single breath, they exchanged glances and nodded firmly.

The forest had grown too perilous. Too unpredictable. Only by staying close to beings like Ricky could they hope to survive what was coming.

Ricky raised a brow at their decisive response, then gave a satisfied nod and rose into the air.

"Follow me."

Boar and Alexandria looked at each other again. This time, what passed between their eyes wasn't hesitation — but shared resolve.

Their wings flared, and they took off behind him.

---

After soaring for some time, a snow-white wall gradually came into view in the distance. Its surface shimmered like crystal under the sunlight, casting off soft radiance.

To the two newcomers, it felt less like a sanctuary… and more like a beast waiting to devour them.

Alexandria grew visibly wary, her golden eyes flicking around, scanning every inch of the surroundings.

This place… it had haunted her memories far too long.

Ricky, sensing their tension, decided to ease the pressure with a light introduction.

"This is the stone courtyard."

"Besides me, there are two other residents."

"The first is Dark Shadow — she's a spider, but calm and reasonable. You'll be fine as long as you don't provoke her."

"The second..." He paused slightly.

"Be careful around her."

He didn't elaborate further. Noctyss was unstable — even Ricky wasn't entirely sure what she'd do at any given moment.

But just as he finished speaking, Ricky suddenly stiffened mid-air.

An eerie sensation surged through his body.

Like a puppet with cut strings, several small pieces of himself abruptly detached — scattered echoes from faraway locations.

The venom.

The cultists who carried his venom had made contact with others from his organisation. Ricky's lips twitched as amusement flickered in his eyes.

But it faded as quickly as it came.

His expression darkened.

Something felt wrong.

His connection to the venom was weakening. Fading.

He could still sense it… but could no longer control it fully. Its potency was deteriorating, and it was becoming increasingly unstable.

If it spread further, he might lose all connection — reduced to nothing more than a passive observer.

---

Ruins of Harrier Village.

Dust clung to the wind like forgotten memories. Crumbled houses lay half-swallowed by debris and overgrown vines.

Seraphina Velcrast stood silently, her expression unreadable as she stared at a collapsed home.

Beside her stood a woman with a strikingly curvaceous figure — but that allure was shattered by her ice-cold face. Emotionless. Still as glass.

This was Amanda — a Stage 2 powerhouse and one of the Radiant Knight Order's Truth Seekers.

Suddenly, a faint divine glow shimmered into existence around Amanda's body, forming a translucent, sacred halo.

Seraphina watched, eyes wide with awe.

"So strong..."

Among all the Stage 2 beings she'd encountered, Amanda was in a league of her own.

Just then, a voice cold as the northern wind sliced through the air.

"Is this the place?"

Seraphina didn't even look — she recognized that voice immediately and nodded.

Amanda said nothing more. She returned to her investigation, her gaze cold and analytical.

Behind them, a faint pout filled the silence.

"Tch! So rude for a lowly Stage 2..."

"Thank goodness you're not any stronger — we'd probably suffocate just standing next to you..."

A soft, almost melodic voice filled with teasing sarcasm rang out.

Seraphina sighed.

She didn't need to turn to know who had spoken.

Lily — the daughter of Vice Leader Marcus. The golden-haired troublemaker.

She stood with arms crossed, lips pursed in displeasure, her long flowing hair catching the breeze like golden flames.

Seraphina looked between Amanda and Lily, and her brows furrowed.

"What was the vice-leader thinking, sending his own daughter into a place like this..."

But she said nothing. This wasn't her decision to question.

Just then, Amanda's tightly closed eyes snapped open. A burst of multicolored light shot out like streaks of starlight.

"We need to find that mosquito. He will lead us to the Noctyss tomb."

Seraphina nodded, the demonic aura she had once felt around the mosquito still lingering in her mind.

There was a connection. There had to be.

Lily said nothing. But her expression turned serious for the first time — her gaze sharpening, a strange light glimmering within her pupils.

---

Inside a makeshift cultist tent…

A lone cultist trembled violently, kneeling on the ground. Cold sweat poured down his face, soaking his robe.

Before him stood a figure that barely resembled a human.

Half the face belonged to a woman — delicate, almost beautiful. The other half was that of a man, stern and unyielding. The two halves were stitched together with a snake — its slick body coiled through their flesh, acting as grotesque thread.

The air was suffocating.

The cultist could barely breathe.

His heart pounded like a war drum as a name echoed through his skull.

High Priest Ghostly Face.

He had been told someone from headquarters would arrive to oversee the operation… but this?

This wasn't a man.

This was a nightmare given form.

A monster with no logic. No morality. Just endless madness hidden behind those mismatched eyes.

And in that moment… the cultist felt pity.

Pity for the mosquito.