"What...?", Owen stares at the reports he received.

  There was nothing special about the circus; all the staff, from clowns, strongmen, to magicians, beast tamers, each and every one of them was normal.

  There were even some Detectives, Pathstriders of Erudition and Truth, and they found no trace of mystic, even the strangely drawn symbols on some of the caravans and tents are nothing more than decoration. Yet only the flyers contain mystical powers.

  When confronting the owner, they questioned the flyers' origin, and he said they were printed in another city. He was quite helpful; he even gave the address for the pce where the flyers were printed.

  Owen suspected that there was someone else in the troupe, likely a member of the Wondertainment Troupe, or this was a massive-scale ritual involving prints and information?

  142 Paths identified by the Heretic, frankly, that amount is huge. The Church of the Three Rings only had concrete details on 70 or so Paths; the rest were vague and some were unknown.

  It is frankly a nightmare to try and guess what Paths are involved.

  For now... There isn't much concrete information.

  =0=0=

  Lea lingered for a moment longer, until dusk had settled into night. And far from her, hiding just like her, another Pathstrider that was also observing the pce.

  Her body wanted to fight, but she feared activating her emotion radar might catch that Pathstrider's attention. So against her instinct, Lea pulled her cloak tighter and retreated toward Ein...

  Meanwhile, an aged gentleman, who seemed to be in his fifties, was wearing a simple, noble two-piece suit consisting of a red shirt and a dark brown coat. His left eye wears a monocle, blurry as if he were blind, and his right eye is red, burning with power.

  His gaze never left the circus troupe, standing vigintly next to a tree, whose shade seemed to hide him.

  He whispered in a deep and ancient voice, "There are quite a lot of invitations, even some rookies..."

  ...

  While heading back, Lea's Communication Emblem lit up. Feeling tense, she hesitated for a moment and grabbed the burning eye of The Sacred Fme.

  "This is Lea Darkwill...", she said as she slipped into a corner, unnoticed by anyone.

  "Hey, Andre here.", it was the familiar voice of her colleague, "Just here to check on you."

  She smiled a bit, "Yeah... I'm fine."

  "Just don't hate the captain too much, he's just doing what's best for the city and us...", Andre then became serious, "Captain had call for the burning of all flyers you find, the situation is a bit tricky since its also involve another city, we can't act as well as the Mystic Bureau in Ein."

  Hearing that, Lea quietly clicked her tongue... Useless.

  Her heart stopped for a beat... did I just call my own people useless?

  "So just take it easy, the Mystic Bureau had already put up bounties to investigate this. And we have MSSH here, they offer to help look into it."

  From the documents Bathory sent, Lea remembers MSSH, one of the two secret societies following the Chalk Princess. Rather than progression like the Cult of Technology, MSSH follows the enlightenment aspect of the deity.

  "But for safety, don't get too close to the circus."

  "Yes...", she nodded, "Then... I'll see you ter."

  The communication ended, and Lea let out a sigh of frustration. She was about to return home to make a pn, just as she was stepping out of the alley, she stepped onto a flyer promoting the circus.

  "..."

  Lea just got a great idea. Picking up the flyer, she headed over to Dan's house.

  It was fully lit, so she stealthily came over. And she slipped a bit of the flyer under the door. Her eyes scan around, making sure nobody is around, double-checking with her surroundings with the emotion radar.

  Picking up a rock by the road...

  Lea threw it at his house, breaking the window. Then she slipped back into the alleyway...

  Dan came out, swung his doors open, "WHO DID THAT?!"

  Only Lea was watching, her grin becoming more and more wild as she saw his fear, his face crumpling up out of frustration. Being evil, making others feel like they are cursed is... simply divine.

  She sees him stepping on the flyer, scratching his head, and picking it up. She couldn't hear what he was whispering, but it looked like a sigh of resignation.

  Do harm, but stay out of reach.

  She obeys the maxim for Malediction.

  Tonight was going to be boring, so Lea stayed in the alley, hidden by the shadows. Continuing to observe him...

  =0=0=

  Eric opened his pocket watch; it was almost morning, and his scheduled carriage was about to arrive.

  Instead of getting him back to Renlou, the headquarters decided to let him go on his Pilgrimage, since he was honest about advancing to the Fourth Step, performing the ceremony for him to become a Bishop in Damadur, before having him return to the Renlou Empire.

  Soon, the carriage, pulled by two horses in red armor wearing thorn crowns, bearing the Church of Sacrifice's insignia - the thorn urel with the cross in the center.

  The door opened up, revealing a young girl with cold eyes, wearing a white chasuble and a red stole with a thorn pattern. Her blood red hair cascaded down, partially covering her golden eyes.

  He immediately pced his right hand over his heart, recognizing who this is. The Blessed of the Goddess, Oracle and Cardinal of the Church of Sacrifice, Saintess Olivier.

  The Saintess began to speak as she summoned a golden sword to her hand, "Through sacrifice of flesh and blood, you shall cleanse your mind and body."

  "I obey, Your Eminence.", he bowed slightly.

  Pak.

  She stabbed lightly into his chest, the wound was shallow, merely breaking his skin and drawing blood. He stood still, his gaze filled with conviction.

  "I shall be your companion on this journey, Priest Frayman.", she held the sword right up, her gaze cold and distant, "For Lady Pain."

  "For Lady Pain.", he replied.

  Soon, he entered the carriage, vished but not on the level he often saw with the nobles of Renlou. Merely red seats and floor, charms for warding off evil and curses hanging on the ceiling, nothing out of the ordinary.

  He sat opposite Saintess Olivier, who was as still as a statue... until she narrowed her eyes.

  "What do you seek of me, Your Eminence?", Eric asked carefully.

  The Saintless is at the Sixth Step; she could kill him in an instant if he ticked her off. All high-ranking clergy members have Madness as their primary Path; they are all insane in the literal sense. Maybe it is a miracle of the Goddess that this church came into existence in the first pce and held up over the years.

  "You have the smell of books.", she calmly stated, but he could feel the madness in her, raring to tear him apart, "Have you come into contact with the Tome of Light?"

  "No, Your Eminence.", he shook his head, "I merely read a lot of books."

  Eric tried to smooth things out with her. One of her supplementary Paths is Judgement; it is impossible to lie in front of her. He can only speak in half-truths, hoping she would not notice his interaction with the Argonauts.

  He felt Saintess Olivier's attitude change in an instant, looking out of the window and enjoying the scenery, "Just be careful of the Tome of Light, though there is no rhyme or reason to its appearance, it likes to target bookworms."

  "I will keep it in mind, Your Eminence."

  =0=0=

  Lea was surprised that Dan had a normal job; she saw him getting to work at night. Originally, she thought he was going to a shady pce... no way did she think he worked in a hospital as a receptionist.

  At first, she felt terrible for dragging an innocent man into her selfish ritual. But the whispers are telling her to mess with him more, to completely ruin his life.

  The key to attuning to the Paths is to embrace them. If the leader of Akasha Monodrama's words are to be believed, Lea must embrace evil, of being a curse, for her to be complete.

  All Pathstriders want to ascend further, the sense of completion, getting what was supposed to be there in the first pce.

  ...

  The reception at the clinic was bathed in cold sodium light. Inside, the familiar smells greeted her—antiseptic, stale coffee, the soft hum of machines, someone snoring behind a closed door. Through the gss window, she could see him at the desk.

  Dan sat there, rearranging forms with the careful, mechanical motions of someone who'd done this same routine for years. He paused to thumb through a stack of patient cards, pushing a pen across the counter as if marking time itself.

  Lea let the door close quietly behind her and moved slowly across the linoleum. Her boots made no sound. Her cloak seemed to swallow the harsh fluorescent light.

  For a moment, she felt ridiculous—sneaking into a hospital at night just to leave a piece of paper. But then something underneath her thoughts stirred, expectant and sharp. Her Malediction, always whispering.

  She didn't approach the reception desk directly. Instead, she moved to the side where a potted pnt cast shadows deep enough to hide her presence.

  The receptionist, an older man, not Dan, gnced up once, half-questioning, then returned to his paperwork.

  From inside her cloak, Lea pulled out a flyer. It was the same bright rectangle she'd seen posted in the town square. To anyone else, it would look cheerful and inviting.

  To her, because Malediction sat like a second heartbeat in her chest, it radiated something else.

  She folded the flyer once and, with hands that had steadied through sheer will, tucked it beneath the receptionist's day-log. Not hidden so deep it would never be found, but not obvious enough to be noticed immediately.

  A small irritation. Something mispced. Something that would make the desk workflow stumble for just a breath.

  If the night were an enormous machine, she told herself, I'm only rattling one gear.

  Lea moved deeper into the clinic. She lingered near where nurses left charts on corridor tables and nudged a pen cap slightly to the left. She didn't open drawers or touch medication cabinets; nothing that would raise arms.

  Instead, she set a coffee mug just off-center on its coaster so it would leave a ring. Tiny, almost childish, but effective.

  At the nurse's station, she spotted an intake sheet folded incorrectly, its corner tucked beneath a stapler. She slid it free with practiced quiet and reshuffled the papers so the sheet would fall to the floor ter— probably when someone's hands were full and their patience thin. She slipped the flyer right under it...

  The effect mattered more than the action itself. A te chart. A missing initial. A phone call that goes unanswered because the caller is stuck on hold just a bit too long.

  Malediction whispered that small disruptions could cascade. That annoyance could build into anger. That anger could turn eyes toward Dan, asking questions.

  She paused near Dan's office door, listening. A phone rang two rooms down. Someone ughed softly in the break room. The building hummed with small, human noises, nothing that would trigger suspicion.

  Her heart wanted grand gestures. Malediction wanted fire and ruin.

  But Lea bent her head and let the quieter craving win. Slow, close, intimate work burns longer.

  When she stepped back onto the street, the night had cooled further. The city stretched out in a pool of muted streetmps.

  She didn't hurry home. She walked the alleys as if window-shopping for her own vengeance, letting Malediction's whispers guide her steps.

  They will think him careless. They will whisper. They will look.

  The first small pebble had fallen into the pond.

  The ripples would take their time.

  And that was exactly how she wanted it.