Jack passed through the wall. Entering the Church District.
The district was quite a strange contrast to the grimy docks. Grand yet slightly smoke-stained stone buildings lined the wide, paved streets.
He quickly found the slavers' hideout. A large, nondescript warehouse. Tucked behind a row of seemingly abandoned tenements and a crumbling library. Just as Spider had said.
The building was not actually strange. No windows, a single heavy steel door. It looked just like any other storage facility.
But Jack didn't rely on normal eyesight. He activated his [Eyes of Judgement]. The world shifted. Information flooded his sight. He could see the warehouse, once mundane, now glowed with dark, malevolent energies.
Within its walls, he saw them. Twenty-four distinct, vibrant, but terrified spiritual signatures. Clustered together in the cellar. Emanating the fear and sadness of children.
Then, there were the others. Eight larger, darker auras moving through the main floor. These were not mere thugs. Their spiritual signatures were strong. Definitely transcendent individuals.
Their auras were twisted and corrupted. And their spiritual essence… it pulsed with an unholy mockery of divine energy. Jack quickly recognized it. Fallen Acolytes.
Of which deity? Once the question appeared in his mind, the [Eyes of Judgement] immediately showed the information. They worshipped God of Wealth, the twisted form of the orthodox God of Prosperity.
They belonged to a deviating branch of the Church of Prosperity. One known as the 'Circles of Wealth'. A secret society, rumored to deal in illicit gains and dark rituals under the guise of holy devotion.
Spider's hunch about corrupted church personnel just got a lot more specific.
This was big. Bigger than a simple gang of slavers. This was an organized operation. Protected by powerful individuals.
Jack returned to Spider's location. Materializing once more. "You were right. There were twenty-four captured kids down there. And eight transcendent slavers. Fallen Acolytes. From the Circles of Wealth."
Spider whistled, a sound barely heard. "Circles of Wealth? The heretics from Church of Prosperity? This close to the cathedral? Damn. Those prosperity priests were bloody incompetents. And eight transcendent guys you say, Teach? That's a lot of muscle for some street kid slaves."
"I don't think they would use the kids for slaves." Jack said. His voice was grim.
Spider sighed. He also realized that. "Sacrifices huh? Damned cultists!"
"Wait! I haven't checked the Cathedral." Jack paused. A new thought was forming. "Stay here. Watch the kid. I'll be back quickly."
Before Spider could protest, Jack vanished again. An invisible specter heading directly for the ornate spires of the Cathedral of Prosperity. If the Fallen Acolytes were operating this close, there had to be an accomplice higher up. Someone providing cover.
He phased through the majestic stone walls of the Cathedral. The sacred energies within didn't actually affect him.
The main hall was empty. Obviously. This was already past midnight. He focused his [Eyes of Judgement] again. Sweeping the vast structure. Detecting priests and monks in their sleeping quarters.
Surprisingly, less than half of the auras he saw were pure and devout. Most were practical grey. People embracing religions simply to live in decent wealth. It made sense. And not that bad either.
But then, in the upper echelons, there was something different. Behind a heavy, carved oak door leading to the high priests' chambers, he found it...
A shimmering, cloaked spiritual signature. Radiating immense power. Yet subtly warped. This wasn't just a normal monk. Or priest. This was a High Priest. One of the highest positions under the Cardinal.
A man who regularly preached from the main altar. One who blessed the city's faithful. But this spiritual essence was... a putrid mix of corrupted divine energy and something else. Something... crystalline.
Jack recognized the last one as the unique signature of a potent artifact. It was likely used to mask the true nature of his faith. Shielding it from the other, genuine priests and paladins of the Church. It couldn't prevent Jack from noticing him though.
But, infiltrating as a fake high priest. Secretly working for the Circles of Wealth. Allowing children to be kidnapped under the very nose of the Holy Cathedral. This might be the prelude of something terrible.
Just like the previous case he was involved in. The Cult of Purity against the Church of Justice. In Highcliff Town.
Jack phased back. Through the thick cathedral walls. He had seen enough. He needed to make a plan now.
He quickly went back to Spider and reappeared. Still surprising the young ghost no matter how many times he had seen it.
One moment... nothing. The next, a tall cloaked-and-masked stage-magician's specter was there.
The young ghost was still hovering near the unconscious boy. Whose breathing was more regular. Though he hadn't woke up yet from his coma.
"Took you long enough, Teach!" Spider's voice was dry. "Kid's not getting any better just by me staring at him."
Jack ignored the barb. His spectral eyes, hidden behind the mask, scanned the boy. "He'll live. He needs proper healing though. Not just our limited [Healing Chant]. We'll need to get him to hospital."
"Oh, come on!" Spider snorted. "He is a penniless street-kid. And we are ghost... and specter. Not a chance any hospital will take him."
"One of us needs to inscribe higher level of healing magic to our grimoire then." Jack simply concluded. "Let's do that later."
He paused. Then gestured vaguely towards the warehouses looming in the pre-dawn gloom. "I've checked. There was actually one Fallen Acolyte in the Cathedral, posing as a High Priest. Hiding his dark aura with some kind of artifact."
Spider raised a translucent eyebrow. "So, what's the plan, Teach? Going in there and making ghost noises until they run away?"
Jack's voice was flat. "No. I'm going in there and ending them. Loudly. You, however, will be making the noises outside. A lot of them."
He outlined the simple strategy in more details. "I'll hit the warehouse hard. No subtlety. Just raw power. Cause absolute mayhem inside. Forcing the slavers to focus on me."
"Meanwhile..." He looked pointedly at Spider. "You are on distraction duty... er, attraction duty. Whatever the name... There are many abandoned tenements next to the warehouse. Find one nobody cares about. Burn them. Make a spectacle. And loud noises."
Without waiting for Spider's response, Jack continued. "Then, once things are really kicking off, phase through the floor of the warehouse to the cellar. The kidnapped kids are down there. Release and guard them. But don't take them up before I gave you signal. It will be chaos there."
Spider was silent for a moment. Absorbing the instructions. "Burning buildings? Kinda too flashy, isn't it? Teach?"
"That's the point. It will draw attention. The kind we want. Church enforcers. City guards. They'll see the fire, hear the chaos, and come running. They'll find a slaver nest. And they'll have to join the fight. Like it or not. To protect their reputation. Which is exactly what we need."
"Burning things. Being loud. Guarding kids. Got it. Sounds like a regular Tuesday." Spider shrugged his spectral shoulders. "Just don't get yourself ghost-busted, Teach."
"Don't worry about me. Worry about keeping those kids out safe." Jack turned, his form blurring. "Go. Now."
Before Spider could retort, Jack Mystery dissolved into invisibility. A ripple in the air that faded into nothing.
Spider sighed. Then looked down at the injured boy. "Just hold on tight, Kid! Spectral Duo were about to make some bad guys who injured you very, very sorry."
He phased through the wall. Moving towards his designated tenements.
...
The metal door of the warehouse burst. Jack floated into the derelict warehouse. Visible. A specter with translucent top hat, mask, and cloak. Holding the Spirit Torch in one hand. And a spectral grimoire was floating next to him.
He slammed the telekinetic power of [Mysterious Anomaly] into a stack of empty crates. Shattering them with a splintering crash that echoed through the space.
Eight figures, cloaked and hunched, turned sharply. They were clustered around a makeshift altar. Upon which lay several lifeless forms. Too small to be adults. Children.
Jack's spectral mask narrowed. These damned Fallen Acolytes. They had willingly adapted to the dark, corrupted, a sickening perversion of fallen divine energy.
"Well, well..." A voice rasped. Belonging to the largest of the acolytes. The one who held a bone staff tipped with a glowing, malevolent shard. "Looks like we have a visitor. A ghost visitor. Must be that annoying specter who's been meddling in the docks."
Jack didn't dignify the comment with a reply. He simply raised a spectral hand. And without a word, a volley of Magic Missiles erupted from his fingertips.
They were not the shimmering, harmless bolts of a stage trick. But raw, concentrated force.
They tore through the air. Punching through the chests of an acolyte before he could even finish his corrupted incantations. His cloaked form spasmed. Then crumpled. His energy was slowly dissipating.
"Attack!" The lead acolyte roared, a sickening black aura flaring around him.
Corrupted divine energy surged. Black fireballs shot towards Jack. Sickness-inducing miasma billowed. These were not weaklings. They had power. Twisted as it was.
Jack was already moving. Flowing like smoke. He chanted as he moved. And from the grimy concrete floor... thick, thorny [Vine Entanglement]s erupted. Just like starving serpents constricting its preys.
They wrapped around and caught two acolytes. Entangling them. Their struggles were futile. As the vines tightened, thorns digging deep.
"Foolish ghost! You cannot stop the Great Work!" Another acolyte, roaring in mindless fury, summoned a deadly Shadow Troll.