The figure opposite slowly stepped out of the gloom, his form blending with the flickering candlelight. His face emerged from blurriness into sharp clarity.

"Who else would it be, if not me?"

Scholar Old Ray carried a stack of heavy books, shuffling unsteadily toward the witch.

Shana let out a quiet breath, tucking the poison vial back into her sleeve.

"Old Scholar, what are you doing here?"

"Now, that's a silly question. Where else would an old scholar be but in the Scholar's Tower?" Old Ray smiled.

"Oh right, of course—this is your domain. I'm the one who came to see you." Shana reached out to help him with the books. "Need a hand?"

"Thank you." Old Ray struggled to pass the stack to her. "Is there something you want to ask me, Sister Shana?"

I want to know if Prophet Orekl has any skeletons in his closet.

"Um…" Shana fumbled for a way to phrase her question tactfully.

"Take your time. Let's go to my room and talk." Old Ray walked toward the end of the corridor.

Good idea. This place is way too stuffy—definitely not a spot to discuss things.

Shana followed behind, her gaze falling on the top book in her hands. Its cover bore four gilded characters: Principles of Firearms. Firearms? Aren't those the standard weapons for hunters? It's strange, though—I've never seen any hunters on the Great Wall using firearms.

Shana had long noticed that the wall's hunters all used bows and arrows, but she hadn't thought much of it until now. Suddenly, she wondered if there was more to the story.

"The scrolls lining this corridor are the Great Wall Legion's annual accounting ledgers. They wouldn't fit in the tower's rooms, so we had to put them here. It does narrow the corridor, but since hardly anyone comes here anyway, it's not too much of an inconvenience." The scholar leaned on a bookshelf as he shuffled forward.

Whatever works for you.

Shana wasn't interested in the topic. She ran a finger over the cover of Principles of Firearms and asked: "Old Scholar, have you been researching firearm technology lately?"

Old Ray sighed. "When I studied at the Academy years ago, I learned a bit about firearms. But I got rusty from disuse. Now I'm brushing up on the knowledge to investigate the incident where the firearms stopped working."

"Firearms stopped working? You mean the Great Wall's firearms?" Shana exclaimed.

"Yes. The wall's old firearms unit was fierce—tough-as-nails hunters. But two years ago, all their firearms suddenly failed, so they had to switch to bows and arrows. After that, they never walked as tall as before."

Two years ago! That's exactly when Orekl took office as Great Wall Commander!

Shana frowned. "Why hasn't anyone told me about this?"

"That big victory half a year ago covered up a lot of problems." Old Ray shook his head, sighing. "The legion had already raised funds to buy new firearms from merchants in Golden Harbor. But after we took Wolf Fort, everyone was swept up in the joy of victory, and the plan got shelved. No one talks about it anymore—even the hunters seem to have gotten used to bows and arrows. I'm probably the only one still investigating the failure."

"Have you found anything out?"

Old Ray sighed softly, then pushed open a heavy wooden door.

"Squeak—"

Shana followed him into the room.

Whoa, am I surrounded by books?!

Bookshelves lined both walls, crammed with yellowed scrolls and books stacked layer upon layer. The air was thick with the scent of aged paper. Shana's head spun at the sight of all the books. She'd thought the corridor was stuffy, but the study felt even more oppressive. I'd rather stay in the corridor…

"Put them there." Old Ray pointed to a long table by the window.

After Shana set the books down as instructed, Old Ray continued: "Two years ago, right after Orekl arrived as Commander, his third order was to have all hunters turn in their firearms to the armory for inventory before reissuing them. But when the guns were handed back, they all failed—they wouldn't fire at all."

"How could that happen?"

"From my recent research, it seems the firearms were exposed to a mysterious magic potion while in the armory, which disabled their ability to ignite bullets."

Shana quickly searched her memory, trying to recall any of the dozens of magic potions she knew that could do this, but came up empty. She frowned: "What potion is that?"

Old Ray said: "Have you heard of Tears of Plunder?"

"That's a dark magic potion used by the Curse Fox clan!" Shana finally remembered. Oh right, you're talking about a demon clan potion—I wasn't thinking in that direction.

She said: "I heard Tears of Plunder is colorless and odorless. If a mage gets even a drop on them, their magic powers vanish completely for ten days."

"That's just one of its effects. It has other uses—like altering the physical function of firearms."

"Um…" Shana didn't know much about Tears of Plunder, so she couldn't verify if the scholar was right, but she was curious how someone had gotten their hands on such a dark magic potion. Through a black market merchant?

She asked: "Who did this?"

Old Ray shook his head. "Without solid evidence, I can't make accusations."

He wouldn't say it outright, but the suspect was obvious. Shana thought to herself: To pull this off, you need more than just Tears of Plunder—you need rank. Only a few people could access the armory while the firearms were stored there… including the one who gave the order to collect them.

"By the way, Sister Shana, can you tell me what brought you here tonight?" The scholar changed the subject.

I came to ask about Orekl's skeletons, and I already got one.

Shana planted one hand on her hip, the other tapping lightly on the table: "Commander Orekl locked Feto the Guard in the black dungeon. What do you think about that?"

"Ha, I guessed it—you're here about that." Old Ray looked up at Shana, his voice steady. "What do I think? Orekl's mind is unraveled. He's no longer fit to be Great Wall Commander."

"What?" Shana's body jolted. She'd come looking for an ally, but she hadn't expected the scholar to be so blunt.

"A Prophet without his power is no longer a Prophet. Orekl has no right to lead the Great Wall anymore."

"E-even you think that?" Shana's eyes widened. So Feto was right! A lot of people know the Prophet's secret!

"Alas, I noticed it a long time ago. Not long after the Lady Knight arrived, Orekl moved his quarters to the bunker. Wasn't that obvious?" A faint, knowing smile tugged at Old Ray's lips. "Prophets cannot love. Once they break the vow against romantic love, the Holy Light Power they spent years cultivating vanishes like morning dew."

No way! Shana's mouth fell open, stunned. Ray's looks are just so-so! Her figure's nowhere near as good as mine! How could Orekl fall for her? What kind of taste is that?!

"Sister Shana?"

Shana stood frozen for a moment, snapping back to her senses only when the scholar called her name. Wait, wait, wait! I'm focusing on the wrong thing!

She quickly said: "When did you first notice something was wrong with him?"

Old Ray said: "Well… to be precise, after the second murder. But my guess was just that—no evidence to back it up. So I never told anyone."

"But you're telling me now…"

"Because the situation is dire." The scholar walked to the desk and pushed open the old wooden window. A blood-red full moon hung high in the night sky, stark and undeniable.

"On the Red Moon night, the werewolves will break free and unleash ruthless slaughter on humanity. Despair and wails will spread like a plague, shrouding the entire kingdom…"

"The Red Moon and the werewolves are no mere ballads made up by bards—they are brutal facts etched into history."

"Now, the Red Moon is full, the long night has come, and the God-built Wall faces an unprecedented test. Remember! Not in a few days, not tomorrow—but tonight!"

Shana stood rigid, shock crashing over her like a tidal wave. Tonight? Right now?