The crowd below watched in shock as the beast wrapped its maw around the magician.

“Is Mr. Croft dead?” A woman cried out, her hands held against her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes.

“No- is it real, or is it one of his acts?” A confused man stumbled backwards.

“But he was such a kind man! That monster, what is it!? Is it here for us too?”

In similar reaction, Ainsworth shot forward, but he was held by Ramses and Midas, who also looked at the sight in horror.

“You can’t just rush in there!” Cornifer consoled the Red Rose, a grave tone underlying. “You know how we work! You know what happens when we rush into things. People get killed!”

Ainsworth turned to him, his classic-look of disdain and solemnity vanished into a portrayal of true fury. “People did die!” He yelled, “Did you not see it, Cornifer!? Lumière was just eaten by that profane mound of flesh! I’m going to go up there and kill it! That’s who’s dying next! Lumière can still be saved!”

He had tears in his eyes, dripping down his cheeks. His sobs choked up his words, and he stopped yelling at the lower-noble scribe.

“Prepare yourself. We’ll evacuate the attendants of this show and neutralise the threat simultaneously.” Ramses spoke in Ainsworth’s stead, who had bent over, retching. The other White Roses nodded their heads in response and unsheathed their blades that they had hidden beneath their clothes. Ramses glanced around the crowd, suspicious. ‘Why has Nicole been gone this long?'

They scrambled to action. Due to their association with the Church, they were afforded some means of authority when it came to dangerous involvements of the Nameless Spawn of the heretical Goddess, the Lace of Blood. This meant they had official documents- identification, to prove it. Of course, none of the names on their identification were real. It was just a matter of show.

The White Roses agilely moved through the crowd, revealing their identification and informing the members of the imminent evacuation. After being informed of the danger, the onlookers promptly left in a hurry, anxious of being caught up in the storm.

Once the plaza at the edge of the streetway had been cleared, the White Roses promptly entered the building opposite where Lumière had appeared. They showed off their identification to the attendant guarding at the entrance and were allowed access to the staircase leading to the roof.

They raced up the stairs in unison, opening the door to the churning sky of storm. The wind howled, and thunder crackled in the far distance, lightning alighting the blanket of grey. It became obvious to the White Roses that they were not alone. It wasn’t the Nameless that they ran into, as they expected. Four silhouettes revealed their visages in the distance, silver glint upon their eyes.

“Who are those guys?” Cornifer voiced his concerns.

At the same time the audience had seen the event of the magician, Lumière Croft’s demise, the Mythos Garden had been standing at the edge of the Show Hall’s rooftop, shocked and confused.

“Did One of Spades just get eaten by that creature!?” Zelia’s eyes widened, placing a hand against her mouth to spare her compatriots her gasps. “But- but how could that have occurred?”

“Did Mr. Demon fail to protect him?” Nicole’s gaze shuddered.

Juno shook his head. “No, you’re wrongly underestimating Mr. Ophelia- the one who brought us all together. You’ve seen what he’s capable of- what his host is capable of.” Juno, Zelia, and Cartwell had all seen the events following Johan Basque’s death. Juno had readily assumed Nicole had also seen many things, knowing of his proximity to the Demon of the Garden. “Knowing what you know, it would be treason against him to doubt him. There’s more to this that we’re failing to understand. Wait patiently.”

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They all nodded in agreement. “You’re right. We should trust in his strength, right?”

Cartwell pointed at the rooftop across from them, where Lumière Croft had once been seen. “There’s figures on that rooftop. Do you think they’re enemies? You felt the gazes of those Phantoms too, didn’t you?”

Hearing this, Nicole’s body shivered.

The two parties stood on buildings across from each other, scanning the environment in search of the snarling flesh amalgamation.

“Huh? You’re right… who are those guys?” Juno’s eyes narrowed, staring at the four white-cloaked figures across from them. He glanced over at Nicole, whose expression had paled while staring at them. ‘Does little Capulet know something? I believe that white-haired man is the Priest that takes care of the monastery Lumière Croft resides at. Does that mean these figures are affiliated with the Church of the Crown of Thorns? If Capulet knows them, then is he affiliated with the Church as well? The world really is small… Mr. Ophelia and his host sure keep their circles tight.’

Nicole was visibly shaking. He immediately recognised the figures opposing them. ‘Those are the White Roses! Midas, Cornifer, Ramses, Mr. Ainsworth… will they all recognise me? Is this really enough to disguise me? If they find out, will they kill me themselves?’

Seeing this, Juno placed a hand on Nicole’s shoulder, slowing his trembling. “The mask you’re wearing has special runes that mimic a Heretic’s minor illusion. Those facial features of yours that anyone who doesn’t wear a mask like this perceives have been incredibly warped. There’s no way those people can track any of us down after this is over. Just remember to keep that mask on.”

Nicole glanced up towards Juno, a little surprised and relieved. “Really, Mr. Shylock? Is that true? Thank goodness, I was so worried. Ah, you’re incredibly kind. Thank you!” He smiled timidly.

Juno recoiled slightly. ‘I didn’t mean to ease your worries, little kid. Ah, did I really? Fuck, what have I turned into by returning from the battlefield? Have I grown soft? Damn it, whatever. I hope that won’t reveal that I was suspicious about him. I don’t want to look into him too much since he’s too-closely related to Mr. Ophelia in some way. Damn it, what is really going on here? He confirmed he was worried about being found out by those people across from us. So does he really know them?’

At the same time, the White Roses looked over to the silver-mask clad figures on the opposite rooftop.

“There’s more people here. Do you think they’re also Nameless?” Ramses posed the idea.

Midas shook his head. “That mask they all wear… I could swear I’ve seen it before, but where?”

Suddenly, the streets became flooded with shouts and ravings. The attention of the two parties were broken, drawing to the stone-paved streetway below where far more than hundreds had gathered. For each member of the Show Hall that had ran away, it seemed five more had returned in their place. Like wildfire, the news of the attack had spread.

The news of the middle borough’s beloved magician had spread. His admirers, his fans, his dearest guests had come to see it for their own eyes- to see the dangerous creature that had been spoken of. They had come to see the truth of the magician’s demise.

‘Was Lumière Croft really this famous?’ Ramses’s eyes widened.

Suddenly, from the shadows high above, thin, spindly legs and arms revealed tens of elongated bony fingers that clawed into the roof tiling of the buildings above the street. Suspended above the onlookers whose gazes shot up to stare at a massive creature whose flesh seemed more sinew than skin, a Nameless amalgamation that had grown five times in size towered, a blasphemous existence.

There was a silhouette atop the bony carapace of the monster. Members of the audience began to point, cheering.

Riding atop the beast, with thin stands of rope cutting into the corners of its gaping mouth, Lumière Croft held the reigns. He pulled back on the rope with his fingertips, pulling the monster’s head upwards, causing it to cry out in agony that echoed shrilly through the streets.

“Now, dearest guests!” Lumière grinned, staring down at the crowd. “Did I ever say the show was over!?”

The crowd was overtaken with surprise and joy. They thought the magician had been eaten, that he was gone on his final night of performing. Especially Ainsworth, who watched from above, felt his heart rise up from the depths of his stomach, beating wildly as he tried to lurch forward once more, still held back by his compatriots.

“Lumière!” Ainsworth called out. Hearing this, the magician looked over to his childhood friend, waving amiably as if nothing had happened at all.

Lumière laughed wildly and happily, his hysterical mood washing over the audience.

“It hasn’t yet begun!”