Watching the stylish and glamorous figure of Merka leaving, Turing lazily lingered near the bed for a while. The slightly thick bedclothes formed graceful folds, enveloping Turing like a cluster of stars. Winter had just arrived, and the weather had turned chilly, but this level of cold couldn't penetrate Turing's skin.
Feeling bored, Turing lay on the bed for a while, then got up, got dressed, and went to brush his teeth and wash up.
After glancing at the newspaper, reading some ancient books, brewing a cup of coffee for himself, Turing sat bored on the sofa in the living room.
【Days without Merka are truly too dull.】
In fact, Turing was a bit puzzled about how commoners usually pass their time. They didn't need to prepare for competitions or get involved in political struggles, so how did they use their extra time?
Sitting on the sofa, reading a book, drinking coffee, nibbling on nuts, Turing crossed his slender legs high. His exposed fair legs looked like the seductive tail of a white fox, swaying in the air like silver bells, seemingly tugging at someone's heartstrings.
"So boring."
"Should I go exercise?"
"But exercising doesn't seem to benefit me anymore."
"Can angels really become stronger through exercise?"
【Ultimately, for me, there are very few forms of exercise that can actually have an effect.】
【I can't exactly find a dumbbell as heavy as a building.】
Standing up from the sofa, Turing set aside the thick history book and let out a big yawn. Turing's gaze swept across, landing on the headband Dunkirk had given him before.
With a sudden impulse, Turing picked up the headband, returned to the bedroom, and sat in front of the dressing table, gently putting it on.
The black headband was extremely elegant, like a pair of black horns, naturally growing on Turing's head. Turing narrowed his eyes, looking at the headpiece that complemented his demeanor perfectly, nodding in satisfaction.
【Ah, if only Merka could see this.】
【If Merka could see my true appearance, would she like me more?】
【What a pity.】
Turing gazed worryingly at the headband on his head, suddenly feeling that dressing up was meaningless, so he placed the headband aside with some displeasure.
Catching a glimpse out of the corner of his eye, Turing saw the large suitcase Dunkirk had sent sitting in the corner.
【Speaking of which.】
【What will Maria send over?】
With renewed interest, Turing rushed over to the box and eagerly opened it, dumping out its contents.
"What is all this..."
Turing randomly picked up what looked like a beautifully wrapped letter and started reading it.
"Invitation to the Supreme Sorcerers' Gathering?"
Furrowing his brows, Turing read the words written on the letter.
"Are you kidding me, can a Curseborn be invited?"
"Could it be a trap..."
Turing couldn't help but worry for Merka, she could even imagine Merka being ridiculed and mocked at the party.
It's not that Turing is too negative, but Turing was often bullied by people from other families when she was young. This had actually happened to Turing before.
Turing turned the letter over and found that the signature of the sender almost included all twelve apostles, including Sister Dunkirk, of course.
"If the twelve apostles are also at this magician party, then it should be fine... Merka knows those people quite well."
"Huh?"
Turing found that the letter was also stuck with a reply letter with a pre-written title. Turing knew that this was a card for Merka to use as an invitation proof.
This was a kind of ticket, and when Merka finished writing, she could hand it over to the party staff as entry.
"To the esteemed."
"...Mr. Merka."
Turing skimmed through the reply letter and noticed that someone had drawn a red line beneath the words "Mr. Merka," obviously indicating that a title should be added.
"Do they even have to come up with a title, so sincere?"
Once an ordinary magician advances to become an ultimate magician, they belong to the most powerful group of supreme magicians in Acadia, so naturally, titles are necessary.
"Well, in that case, there shouldn't be any problems."
Not planning on opening the envelope, Turing put the letter and the invitation back together, thinking it was better for Merka to see it herself.
Digging through the luggage on the floor, Turing found two weapons, a folding knife, and a handgun.
Both weapons were ornate to the point of being extravagant, with dragon and phoenix motifs, giving off a vibe of being more for show than for practical use.
Compared to weapons, the oddly-shaped pair looked more like art pieces.
"Judgment... and Trial?"
Turing noticed that the two weapons had different inscriptions in various places.
————————————————————————
"You sure can run fast, Lord Samael."
"Have you forgotten the curse Oedipus placed on you, my dear?"
"If you run any further, you might just run yourself to death."
In the pitch-black room, the only source of light was the candlestick on the lonely table.
Samael was tied up tightly to a chair with a hemp rope by London, with traces of blood on her lips and face, obviously already beaten up quite severely.
