Allen's first reaction was—
Again?
The matter wasn't over yet? The Lion's Pride Inn was still haunted?
Then Allen immediately realized something—
The six eerie children he had seen on his first day after transmigrating had nothing to do with the supernatural incident triggered by that letter.
This was a completely separate haunting.
Boss Farley—how do you even have the nerve to charge me for this lousy inn? It's haunted every damn day!
Lightning flashed. In that brief burst of white light, Allen once again saw the six children—once again arranged in the shape of a pentagram, exactly the same as the first time.
But this time, he was much calmer than before.
He didn't panic. On the contrary, he wanted to see what exactly these six children were up to.
Allen held his breath. His eyes had gradually begun to adapt to the darkness.
In the dark, he saw the brown-haired boy step out from the formation and move to the center of the pentagram. The other five children shifted, exchanging positions.
Another flash of lightning.
Allen quickly shut his eyes, preserving his night vision.
When he opened them again, he vaguely saw the children push open the door and walk out.
There was no time to change clothes. Allen grabbed the Blade of the Black Empire—Xal'atath from beneath his pillow and, still in his thin sleepwear, quietly followed after them.
The corridor was dim, only occasionally lit by flashes of lightning through the windows.
Peeking out, Allen saw the six children form a hexagram this time in the hallway—with a red-haired little girl standing at the center.
He simply observed in silence.
When he passed Wren's room, he hesitated for a moment, thinking about waking him.
But the children suddenly began heading downstairs. Afraid of losing them, Allen could only knock quickly on Wren's door before hurrying after them.
As he passed Morgan's room next door, he knocked on that door as well.
Downstairs, Allen saw the children walk out of the inn, disappearing into the curtain of rain.
He stood at the doorway, staring at the torrential storm outside, hesitating.
[Side Quest Triggered: The Secret of the Pentagram]
[You have witnessed the strange ritual of six children twice at the Lion's Pride Inn. Who are they? Why do they linger? What does the shifting pentagram mean? Where are they heading on this stormy night? Curiosity killed the cat—the choice is yours. But judging by your expression, you've already made it, haven't you?]
[Objective: Track the six children and uncover the secret of the pentagram]
[Reward: Free Attribute Points x5, Random Low-Level Spells x2, Random Mid-Level Spell x1]
The sudden side quest gave Allen a push. He gripped his dagger tightly and resolutely plunged into the rain.
The storm swallowed him instantly.
The rain lashed against him so hard he could barely keep his eyes open. Raising a hand to shield his face, he squinted, searching for the six small figures through the downpour.
His sleepwear was soaked through in no time, clinging tightly to his body—cold and heavy. He kept blinking, kept wiping the water from his face, but it never stayed dry.
At first, the children followed the main road.
Then suddenly, they turned into the woods.
Allen hesitated for a split second—but followed anyway.
He trudged along the muddy path, sinking and slipping with every step, relying on occasional flashes of lightning to keep track of those six small silhouettes ahead.
The children stopped at a clearing in the forest and once again arranged themselves into a pentagram.
Allen hid behind a tree, holding his breath as he watched.
Just then—
His foot stepped on something soft.
Looking down, he saw a forest wolf curled beneath the tree, sheltering from the rain. Startled awake by his step, it opened its eyes in confusion, its pupils still shifting—clearly not fully awake.
Their eyes met.
The wolf bared its fangs, a red gleam igniting in its eyes.
Worried it might attack or howl and alert the children, Allen grabbed its muzzle and raised Xal'atath, driving the blade into the wolf's neck.
A few seconds later, it stopped struggling.
Allen released it. Rainwater and wolf blood mixed together, instantly washed away.
Just as he was about to stand—
"Darling."
That familiar voice whispered beside his ear.
"How could you use me to stain such filthy, lowly blood?"
There was resentment in the voice.
"What a heartless man. I gave you power, gave you my favor—and this is how you repay me?"
Allen rolled his eyes.
Finally spoke, huh.
If Xal'atath hadn't said anything soon, he would've started wondering what was wrong with her.
"Don't roll your eyes."
The voice suddenly turned dangerous.
"You roll your eyes in front of me? Disrespecting your master? Hmm?"
But then, her tone softened again: "Though… I'll forgive you this once, my little boy."
As if reading Allen's thoughts, she added: "Your master is very weak right now. I can't watch you every moment—I need to sleep too…"
Allen ignored her and asked quietly, "Can you tell what those six children are?"
Xal'atath grew annoyed.
"Do you really think I'm some kind of wishing god? No oath of loyalty, and the first thing you do is ask me questions?"
"I am forever loyal, my lady. Allen will always be your most devoted servant—willing to give everything for you."
This satisfied her.
"That's more like it. They're just ghosts."
Do I really need you to tell me they're ghosts?
Allen very much wanted to complain—but held it in.
Xal'atath let out a pleased, soft laugh, clearly delighted by his suppressed frustration.
At that moment, the children moved again.
They left the clearing and continued north. Allen hurried after them, passing through patch after patch of forest. The mud grew deeper with every step, each movement requiring effort to pull his feet free.
Finally, the forest ended.
Before him lay a lake.
The water churned under the storm, countless raindrops striking its surface, splashing up dense ripples.
When lightning flashed, the lake glowed with an eerie light—something seemed to be stirring beneath the surface.
The lake in Goldshire… this had to be Crystal Lake.
The six children walked to the shore, then turned around, smiling at Allen.
Their smiles were innocent—like children inviting someone to play a game.
"Come play—"
"Come play our game—"
"It's really fun—"
Their voices drifted through the storm.
Then, in an instant, they vanished.
Allen stared at the spot where they disappeared—a muddy patch by the lakeshore, overgrown with weeds.
He walked over and crouched down.
Then he began digging into the mud with his bare hands.
It didn't take long before his fingers struck something hard.
Brushing away the dirt, he uncovered—a bone.
It was buried shallowly, almost just beneath the surface.
Holding the bone, Allen examined it under the flashes of lightning.
He couldn't tell whether it belonged to a small animal—or…
At that exact moment—
A hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.
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