47: Chapter 47 Ince's Counterattack

He had been standing on the second floor of the abandoned warehouse for nearly two hours.

The night fog seeped in through the broken window frames, condensing into a thin, damp chill on the empty factory floor.

He compressed his spirituality perception to a radius of fifty meters; the range was not large, but it was extremely sensitive, enough to lock onto any intruder below Sequence 7 instantly.

Tonight, he only sought to verify one thing.

Someone was tailing him in the shadows.

The other party was familiar with his habits of engraving runes and knew all his movement trajectories, yet always remained hidden, never making a move, only quietly tampering with a few key rune details after he finished his work.

The eye of the fifth segment of the rune was fine-tuned and calibrated, a strange scratch appeared next to the sixth segment, and a copper whistle was even placed by the rune in the boiler room.

The moment he touched the copper whistle just now, a preset, short message transmission spell was triggered.

The message was vague and hard to distinguish, but it allowed him to precisely capture the spirituality characteristics of the caster—the Sequence was between 8 and 7, the Pathway was hard to determine completely, and the spirituality touch was light and elusive, as if a fingertip had lightly touched the water surface and immediately retracted; it was highly likely to be the Marauder Pathway.

What he feared most was never the other party's strength, but their extreme caution.

He repeatedly checked all his activity areas and could not find a trace of spirituality residue.

Every time the other party finished an action, they would thoroughly erase all traces, which was definitely not something a newly promoted Beyonder could do.

Ince took out the now-ineffective copper whistle from his palm, his thumb slowly rubbing the fine scratches on the whistle's opening.

This was a standard-issue Nighthawks copper whistle, but the scratch at the opening was not a factory mark; it was an anti-counterfeiting mark deliberately carved by someone.

He was no stranger to this; Old Neil had once used the same type of fine scratches on purchased vessels in the Potion Room to distinguish batches of holy water containers.

From this, it could be determined that the person holding the whistle either frequently entered the Potion Room or belonged to the Sealed Artifact maintenance Backup Team.

A Sequence 8 Marauder, possessing access rights to both areas, had significantly narrowed down the target range.

He put away the copper whistle and took out a dark green crystal core fragment from his waist pouch.

This was his last spare rune fragment, taken from an abandoned and ineffective seal anchor point on the periphery of Chanis Gate.

The fragment's spirituality was already weak, but it retained a trace of the residual fluctuations of the Antigonus bloodline.

He did not need to use this to trigger a ritual; he only needed to use it to create a fake spirituality bait.

The follower was familiar with his rune engraving patterns and must have known that he had not completed the seventh segment of the rune for many days.

If he suddenly activated rune fluctuations in an unfamiliar area tonight, the other party would definitely follow the sound.

Ince placed the crystal core fragment in the center of the second-floor floor and tapped its surface lightly with the tip of his ritual dagger.

A dim green light instantly lit up, and a slender spirituality pulse burst out, spreading along the drainage pipes and covering the entire underground pipe network of Iron Cross Street.

The pulse intensity was just enough to be perceived by Beyonders of Sequence 8 and above within three hundred meters, and the fluctuation frequency was exactly the same as the runes he had engraved before.

It was enough to mislead the tracker, making them believe he was at the Textile Factory ruins, starting to engrave new runes.

After doing all this, Ince stood up and walked towards the back door of the warehouse.

He would not go to the Textile Factory.

His real destination was the Pumping Station power distribution room.

There, he had hidden a batch of low-Sequence Sealed Artifact fragments left before his defection, which was his safest emergency trump card at the moment.

He had to get his hands on these supplies before the follower saw through the bait.

At the entrance of the alley near the Textile Factory ruins, Lu Li slowly opened his eyes in the Darkness.

He clearly captured the spreading spirituality pulse; the source was the abandoned warehouse, and the frequency was indistinguishable from Ince's past rune fluctuations.

But there was something eerie about it everywhere.

Ince had been lurking in the warehouse for two hours without making a move; releasing the rune pulse now completely deviated from his established plan to engrave the seventh segment of the rune.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Lu Li had already grasped the truth: Ince had sensed the tracking, and this pulse was a deliberately set bait.

He stopped in his tracks, not moving a single bit closer to the warehouse, and immediately grasped the fragment of the worm of time in his palm.

The dim light on the surface of the fragment alternated between bright and dark every three seconds, with no vibration or resonance at all throughout the process.

This was enough to confirm that the spirituality pulse in the warehouse was just a fake signal stripped and replicated, completely disconnected from the complete rune Sequence.

The bait had been seen through; Ince was feinting to the east to attack in the west, and his true destination was self-evident.

Lu Li turned around and walked steadily towards the Pumping Station.

That was the last seal node Ince was responsible for before he defected, and it was also a secret place where he hid his emergency supplies.

On the second underground level of Iron Cross Street, the Pumping Station power distribution room in the southwest corner of the drainage junction room was hidden between thick stone walls.

The old iron door was covered in rust, and the copper nameplate on it had long been blurred and unrecognizable.

The lock had already been destroyed by Ince in advance; it looked locked, but in reality, it could be opened with a light flick of a blade.

He pushed the door open and entered, his movements silent, and after slipping into the room, he closed the door slightly with his backhand.

The room was pitch black, and there was no need for light; countless past night shifts had made him intimately familiar with the layout, and he could find the lead storage box in the corner even with his eyes closed.

The storage box was intact, and the seal was as complete as ever.

Ince tore off the seal and opened the box, inside of which were neatly placed three items hidden six years ago: a small bottle of dried blood powder from the Sequence 8 Hunter Pathway, an Apprentice Pathway charm that could create a short-term spatial rift, and a broken ritual dagger.

The blade of the dagger was engraved with the snake emblem of the Antigonus Family, which he had obtained incidentally when he stole from the Hoi Family secret room in the past.

He put away the powder and the charm, gripping the broken blade with his left hand.

Although the dagger's spirituality had significantly drained due to the fracture, it still retained the mark of the Snake of Fate.

The mystery was of the same origin; whenever a Beyonder of the Marauder Pathway came into close contact, a brief spirituality resonance would inevitably occur.

This was his final trump card to verify the identity of the follower tonight.

He waited in the Darkness for two minutes, and a very faint spirituality fluctuation suddenly approached rapidly from the main entrance of the Pumping Station.

The footsteps were precise and hurried, not at all like the leisurely patrol posture of a patrol team, and the target was pointed directly at the power distribution room.

The bait had failed; the other party had accurately seen through his scheme.

Ince completely revised his judgment of the follower in his heart: this person was not only more cautious than others, but also understood his movement patterns thoroughly.

A name naturally surfaced in his mind—the newly recruited team member who had checked his past patrol logs and dragged back a lost control cultist alone, Lu Li.

The next second, the iron door was gently pushed open, and there was no one at the entrance.

Ince raised his hand and turned on his flashlight; the beam of light swept across the door frame, revealing only a wisp of silver thread rapidly dissipating—that was the fleeting trace left behind after the spirituality tentacles were retracted.

His pupils shrank, and his reaction was swift; he raised his hand and threw the snake-patterned broken blade in his hand fiercely towards the place where the silver thread was dissipating.

"Clang!"

The dagger was nailed heavily into the stone wall, the crisp metallic sound suddenly exploding.

At the same instant, a slightly cold hand reached out from the side of the Darkness, firmly gripping his left wrist.

The other party did not launch any attack, only lightly tapping the coldest center point of an old rune scar on his palm with their fingertip.

The touch was fleeting, and before the thought of counterattacking could rise, it was already released.

The whole process was no more than five seconds, all hidden in the Darkness.

The flashlight beam swept across the entrance, which was already empty.

Ince lowered his eyes to look at his left palm; above that old scar, dots of silver glimmer emerged, slowly spreading along the texture, condensing into a spirituality mark that could not be wiped away.

He raised his hand and wiped it hard with his glove, but the silver light did not move at all.

He instantly understood the other party's intention: tonight was not a surprise attack or a fight, but an open marking and a complete showdown.

From now on, as long as he was in Tingen, his location would be permanently locked by the other party.

Ince turned off the flashlight and stood alone in the pitch-black power distribution room, remaining motionless for a long time.

Outside the back door of the Pumping Station, the cold touch of the scar still remained on Lu Li's palm.

What he used to mark was the spirituality embers of a Sequence 8 Prometheus; it was not an aggressive flame, but just a very fine layer of spirituality powder.

This layer of silver radiance mark had a unique frequency, which only the Marauder Pathway could perceive.

This silent brand became a surveillance shackle that the former Nighthawk, Ince Zangwill, could never escape from in Tingen.

Blackthorn Security Company, second-floor lounge.

Klein sat in front of the sofa, flipping through the latest Iron Cross Street patrol logs that had just arrived.

Leonard leaned against the seat opposite, his poetry book turned face down on his knees, lifting his eyes to gaze at the flickering gas lamp above his head, his expression lazy and vacant.

From the corridor, the faint sounds of Rozanne organizing files could be heard from time to time.

"Any abnormalities in Iron Cross Street tonight?" Klein asked, looking up.

Leonard casually flipped open the poetry book, then turned it back over, and said indifferently, "Patrolled twice, everything is calm; I didn't even see any living things acting abnormally."

After a slight pause, he added, "Except for the alley on the east road of the old Textile Factory, where there were two extra sets of footprints."

"One set was standard patrol boot prints, and the other was extremely shallow, looking like traces left by walking on tiptoes deliberately."

"I also picked up half a piece of charred paper crane debris at the scene, with a bit of the snake emblem pattern showing at the edge."

Klein took out a paper figurine from his sleeve and placed it lightly on the coffee table.

The paper figurine lay still for a few seconds, and a line of faint grey mist characters slowly appeared on the back: [There are residual spirituality fluctuations in the direction of the Textile Factory, originating from an ineffective spare rune fragment, with no substantial threat.]

"Someone released a fake induction signal in the abandoned warehouse; it wasn't a real rune activation, just spirituality fluctuations simulated by the fragment, covering a three-hundred-meter range, specifically targeting Beyonders of Sequence 8 and above."

Klein took back the paper figurine, stood up, and walked to the window, looking towards the dark and towering spire of the Saint Selena Cathedral in the distance.

"It is Ince's probing."

"He is still in Tingen now, and he has already sensed that he is being followed."

The light in the Captain's office remained on until late at night.

Dunn read the last Sealed Artifact maintenance log from before Ince Zangwill's defection from beginning to end.

The log was recorded neatly and routinely, and all the data fit the normal fluctuation patterns of the Chanis Gate seal node, with no flaws.

Only one detail lingered in his mind, refusing to dissipate for a long time.

In the log, Ince had mentioned several times that the seventh sensing node on the outer ring had atypical temperature anomalies and applied to adjust the monthly maintenance to weekly inspections.

At that time, Old Neil rejected this seemingly superfluous application on the grounds that seal stability was the priority, and Ince did not argue again.

But now, thinking back carefully, everything was suspicious.

Perhaps starting from several years ago, the so-called temperature anomalies were just an excuse.

He frequently applied for maintenance, just to take the opportunity of inspection to quietly engrave spare runes around the node.

His defection plan had long buried a long-term foreshadowing.

Dunn closed the log, picked up the copper whistle beside the table, and blew it gently.

Leonard soon poked his head in from the corridor: "Captain?"

"Patrol tomorrow night, focus on checking all drainage branches of the seventh sensing node on the outer ring."

"If you find any scratches or rune residues not recorded in the files, report it immediately."

"Understood."

Leonard acknowledged and retreated, and the gas lamps in the corridor were dimmed by more than half.

The night deepened, and the Blackthorn Security Company returned to complete silence.

The night fog of Iron Cross Street became increasingly thick, and on the stone wall of the Pumping Station power distribution room, that broken snake-patterned dagger was quietly embedded, its tip catching the fragmented moonlight, rippling with a wisp of deep, cold glimmer.