Past, Fifth Epoch, Year 1160.
Two days had hurried by since the second "Misery Contest."
During this time, aside from brief rests, Edward hardly stayed in the villa at No. 28 Emerald Street. He spent nearly all his hours scouring several cities across the Intis coastal province, trying to uncover the whereabouts of the wandering Abraham family branch.
Yet he found nothing.
No wonder, over the span of more than a thousand years, the descendants of Abraham—whose highest rank had never exceeded Sequence 5—could remain standing, never tracked down by the countless Beyonders coveting their collections. Clearly, among the sealed artifacts they held, there must be at least a Grade 1 or even Grade 0 Sealed Artifact capable of tremendous concealment.
Sigh…If that branch of the Abraham family that fled also used a Sealed Artifact to cover their tracks, what hope do my dockside informants and common port-watchers have of ever finding them?
Worse, they might not even sail through official harbours at all—making the trail completely invisible.
The only scrap of "good news," if it could be called that, was this: in the future, the Sunken Laurel would become a legend of the seas, which meant it was eventually discovered. But discovered only after its sinking. That suggested other Beyonders or factions besides Edward had already fixed their sights on it.
…Unless, of course, it was me who sank it.
For the chance to seize a Sequence 3—or even higher—Characteristic of the Door pathway, Edward was already mentally prepared to snatch it by force. He had no qualms about robbery. But he would never slaughter them and sink the entire ship—unless the Abrahams unleashed their sealed artifacts. In that case, the outcome might spiral beyond his control.
Edward sighed heavily in the new stronghold of the Aurora Order.
Never thought the day would come when I, too, would walk the road of "killing to seize treasures."
The Church's policy of concealing the laws of potion digestion and Beyonder characteristics was indeed wise. If they hadn't, the world would undoubtedly be a thousand times more chaotic than it already was.
He turned his gaze to the attendant bowing before him. "Does the Aurora Order have a branch in the Intis coastal province?"
The man gave him a "why-are-you-asking-me" look.
"I… I don't know."
"Obliviate."
In the next instant, white light washed over the attendant, erasing the last minute of memory. He blinked in confusion. "Forgive me, Mr. F, what did you just ask?"
Strange…why do I always seem to blank out when speaking with Mr. F lately?
Edward smoothly changed the subject. "The inquiry I tasked you with—about the King of Intis and his ties to the royal family. What did you find?"
"We learned only this: the present King of Intis first came to the throne with the support of the royal family. At the beginning, relations were harmonious. But about two or three years ago, for reasons unknown, tension arose. The King's authority seemed curbed…yet we found nothing more specific."
"Is it a power struggle between King and royals?"
"It doesn't appear so."
"Dig deeper."
"Yes, sir!"
The attendant saluted and withdrew.
The Aurora Order's findings only deepened Edward's curiosity about the King. Looking at future Loen—George III's relationship with his royal family—Edward could glimpse the broader pattern. Compared with the limited, Church-checked authority of a monarch, the long lifespan that came with advancing to Sequence 4 might prove far more tempting to most royal bloodlines.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door rapped again. It was the same attendant, returned in haste. "Mr. F, urgent news. The one you asked us to watch for—Tarik—he's resurfaced."
"…Who?"
Edward blinked, momentarily blank. Then his eyes sharpened. "Are you certain?"
Hadn't he dismantled that puppet into pieces last time?
"Yes. He appeared just now at one of the surveillance sites you ordered us to monitor—a grand villa in Quartier de la Maison d'Opéra."
The villa…was one of Marcia's properties in Trier. Edward had never ceased keeping tabs on her.
He hadn't expected Tarik to show up there.
Has Intis switched to a new puppet?
"When was he spotted?"
"Approximately twenty minutes ago. He entered the villa. No sign of him leaving yet."
A smile crept across Edward's lips.
"Excellent."
Edward took on Zaratul's appearance, turned into his spirit form, cloaked himself with invisibility, and approached the lavish villa.
The houses along this street were nothing like the old-style mansions of Rose Street or Emerald Street. These were clearly newly built within the last decade—modern in design, bustling with a different kind of vitality.
He flipped a gold coin to confirm there was no danger inside, then silently infiltrated the courtyard. Gliding in a circle around the sprawling villa, he stopped before a dining room enclosed by tall panes of glass.
Inside, Marcia and Tarik sat opposite each other at a table covered in delicacies.
Marcia raised a wineglass, speaking animatedly, while Tarik—still in that knight's garb—sat expressionless, merely listening.
Edward had intended to eavesdrop, but just as he slipped through the glass wall, Tarik abruptly rose. "I understand. Since you cannot decide, then wait until someone in the Demoness Sect who can decides arrives. We'll speak then."
Marcia frowned. "You keep asking for our help, yet refuse to reveal even a scrap of information. How am I supposed to approach the upper echelons of the Demoness Sect without answers? If I'm pressed and know nothing, I'll be the one to suffer!"
"As long as you contact them, they will understand."
He turned to leave. "Hurry. Time is running out."
"Time?" Marcia's voice rose. "What time is running out?"
"Yes," came another voice, aged and hoarse. "I'd like to know that as well."
Both Marcia and Tarik froze. At some unknown moment, a bearded old man in a black robe had appeared inside the dining room. His eyes were deep and black, like the surface of a lightless pool.
Marcia's face drained of colour. She instinctively tried to slip into invisibility and flee—
But Edward flicked his wrist, stealing her current thoughts. She froze mid-motion, stiff and unresponsive.
Tarik, however, remained motionless, gazing at Edward with faint suspicion.
"Zaratul? Are you here for her, or for me?"
"Both."
Edward smiled. A brass rod materialised in his palm. "I only want to know—where are the others?"
Tarik's pupils quivered. "So you were the one who took it…Why are you involved? This doesn't align with your interests."
"Curiosity."
"No. You are not the sort to risk your life out of mere curiosity." Tarik paused, then asked, "Did someone put you up to this? Or was it an exchange of benefits?"
"No. Pure curiosity."
Edward slipped the brass rod away again. "I'm curious what these rods are really for. Curious who controls you. And curious about your true purpose.
"If you tell me outright and satisfy my curiosity, perhaps I'll walk away."
Tarik was silent for a long moment.
"You're not Zaratul."
Edward's eyes narrowed. "So, you don't plan on talking?"
He raised his hand. Silver-white lightning sparked and crackled in his palm.
Boom!
In the next instant, thunder consumed Tarik. Bolts ripped through him with unstoppable force, tearing apart the puppet's internal framework before detonating it into a cloud of fragments.
BOOM!
A second blast scattered the puppet into countless shards, clattering across the floor. But all the destruction remained confined within the sealed pocket-space Edward had split off—no sound, no ripple reached the outside world.
After all, Tarik would never say a word. The Imperius Curse had no effect on puppets, and spirit-channelling was useless when there was no soul to contact.
Why keep him around, then? Blown to pieces, he still wouldn't interfere with divinations. On the contrary, destroying him might even provoke the King of Intis behind him into a rash misstep—then Edward could finally confirm whether that man and "Intis" were truly one and the same.
"Next…"
Edward turned toward Marcia and began Spirit Channelling anew.
——
Minutes later, he withdrew with disappointment.
Before his arrival, Marcia and Tarik had only discussed half a matter: Tarik wanted to meet with the Demoness Sect's higher-ups to propose some cooperation. But what exactly, he hadn't revealed.
Strange…"Intis" had just commissioned members of the Twilight Hermit Order, and here Tarik is seeking witches for collaboration. If that isn't coincidence, then it all but proves "Intis" really is the King.
So the earlier guesses about witches and calamity were wrong after all?
As for Marcia herself, she had nothing of value. After her last scare, she'd hidden away for days, only daring to move about again recently—when Tarik came knocking today.
"No contact from the Demoness Sect at all?"
Edward's lips curved. Then this bait stays in the water. Who knows what else it might lure out.
His figure flickered—and vanished.
Moments later, Marcia's consciousness returned. She instinctively prepared to flee, but then froze: Tarik and the old man were gone.
The dining room was unchanged, save for the mysterious fragments littering the floor. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
Which only terrified her more. Twice now, she had been effortlessly subdued by that old man. Twice spared without a scratch. Plainly, she was being used as bait.
But what could she do? Flee Trier altogether? Sever ties with Lady Krismona? Or simply kill herself and end it?
And yet…that old man had let her go. But—
"Where's Tarik?" she whispered.
"He?"
The reply came from a melodious, mocking voice.
Marcia turned with a jolt. A woman in a black dress stepped gracefully from the air itself.
"He's all over the floor."
"???"
Marcia blinked blankly at her. "Ah?"
"Tarik was merely a puppet under someone's control. Those scraps and fragments—" the black-garbed woman gestured at the floor "—are all that remains."
Marcia stared in shock. To think that someone she had met countless times, interacted with like a living person, had been a puppet all along!
Krismona smiled faintly and turned toward the glass wall, gazing at her faint reflection. "So it truly wasn't Zaratul who took the Intis brass rod."
A soft, amused laugh followed. "No wonder he looked so aggrieved when we pummeled him."
"Hehe, how very amusing~"
"Why not keep that imposter here?"
"First, we may not have been able to. Second…why should we? The enemy of our enemy, even if not a friend, shouldn't be treated as an enemy either. Clearly, that man too is after the Intis' brass rods. The murkier the waters, the better…don't you agree?"
Krismona blinked in realisation. "Ah…I see now. That makes sense."
"Tch! You—you knew it all along. You just wanted me to say it out loud, so you could praise me after."
"Heehee~ Mama saw through me. You're amazing!"
"…You're doing it again! But…I do love being flattered, being praised…it feels so good~"
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps me motivated.