Joseph shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure. But he may be connected to the group we're investigating."
Charles, standing nearby, felt a twinge of confusion as Joseph revealed details about their secretive investigation to this woman. He studied her warily with a scrutinizing gaze, but before he could say anything, she turned to him with sharp, penetrating eyes. "And who is this man?"
Joseph offered a small smile before introducing him. "This is Charles, my colleague. He's a detective who's been assisting me on this mission."
Charles inclined his head politely in greeting, then turned to Joseph with a puzzled expression. "Joseph, who is she?"
Joseph introduced her. "This is my elder sister, Miranda Cavendish."
Charles felt as if lightning had just struck him. Miranda Cavendish—the eldest daughter of House Cavendish, the renowned heroine of Verage Village, famed for her role in the war between the Kingdom of Hydelyn and the rival nation Traeinclinent. Her name was legendary, inspiring countless women in Hydelyn for both her beauty and her prowess in battle. Her military achievements had earned her the rank of Major General, and she was deeply respected throughout the kingdom.
She was nothing like he had imagined. Charles had always thought her beauty might be mere rumor, for in his mind, a woman who fought in war would be hardened, built with thick, muscular limbs from wielding swords and firearms, her skin roughened by exposure to sun, rain, and dust. He had pictured grim eyes shaped by the brutal reality of battle and killing.
Yet seeing her in person, he realized the rumors of her beauty were absolutely true. Her skin was clear and smooth, her glossy black hair utterly free of coarseness, her pale-blue eyes cold yet striking. Her figure was perfectly proportioned, like a sculpted embodiment of perfection.
On closer inspection, though, he noticed the veins protruding on the back of her hands, a testament to relentless training and real combat—distinct from ordinary noblewomen whose hands were typically soft and unblemished. They were proof that Miranda Cavendish was more than just a pretty face; she was a true warrior.
Having been introduced, Charles addressed her with polite formality, mindful that angering a powerful figure like Miranda Cavendish could well lead to an unfortunate "disappearance." He chose formal, respectful words, feeling extremely nervous as he thought that if he accidentally displeased Miranda, he might one day simply vanish. "It's an honor to meet you, Major General."
Joseph, standing close by, grinned at Charles's sudden politeness. The detective who normally couldn't resist a sharp comment at every opportunity was now downright meek. Joseph knew Charles was probably cursing him under his breath, but he couldn't help but chuckle softly at the situation.
Just then, Charles felt something off. The world around him wavered momentarily, as though the scene were a painting running with water. Miranda's figure seemed to bend and stretch unnaturally. Charles frowned deeply, trying to breathe slowly, realizing that the hallucinations were creeping back.
The sunlight bathing his face turned crimson, as if the sky had been painted in fresh blood. The conversations around him distorted into whispered echoes that reverberated in his ears. His heartbeat thundered louder in his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to dispel the illusions, desperately trying to blink hard to pull himself back to reality.
But when he opened them again, a chilling sight nearly froze the blood in his veins: Miranda's beautiful face had transformed into a visage sealed with crimson thread, a horrifying smile appearing on her features. Her lips had been sewn into an unnaturally wide grin, the corners of her mouth pulled taut in a grotesque grimace, with fresh blood seeping from each stitch point.
Charles jerked in horror, his body trembling as he shuffled back a step. Joseph, noticing the abrupt change, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"
Charles tried to steady his breathing, cold sweat beading at his temples. He turned to Joseph, eyes clouded with anxiety. "I…I'm just a bit dizzy. I'll be fine."
Joseph eyed him doubtfully, but before he could press further, Miranda drew closer. She tilted her head, her pale-blue gaze drifting to Charles with measured concern. "You look unwell."
"No, I'm okay," he replied, forcing a tight smile. In truth, the hideous vision lingered at the edges of his mind. He could still see dark shadows flickering just beyond his peripheral vision, and a faint, maddening whisper lingered in his ears, refusing to fade away.
Miranda nodded, though a hint of skepticism remained in her eyes. When Charles insisted he was all right, the tension eased a little.
Joseph seized the chance to speak with his sister, asking her the question that had been on his mind ever since she appeared. "When did you return? Usually a Major General would come back with the army's convoy. There'd be a formal welcome from citizens and nobles—why haven't I heard anything?"
Miranda turned to him with a warm smile. "I asked to return ahead of the main procession so I could visit our family first."
Charles, standing beside them, felt like an outsider to their family conversation and remained silent. He didn't dare ask about their discussion, out of respect for Miranda's high military rank and the soldiers under her command who flanked her. Charles simply nodded politely to Miranda's attendants, who in turn acknowledged him with curt nods of courtesy without adding anything more.
"In that case, should we all head home together to see Mother and Father?" Miranda proposed warmly, though Joseph shook his head.
"I can't. I have my own business to finish first," he said, voice resolute.
She raised a curious brow. "What sort of business?"
But Joseph could not divulge the details, bound by secrecy. "It's an urgent mission that needs my attention."
Miranda nodded in understanding, asking no more.
Soon, Joseph and Charles went to examine where the arrows had landed. They found scraps of cloth and small traces of blood on two of the arrows. Joseph studied the evidence intently, before turning to Charles. "We might be getting somewhere. This could be a real lead. Let's take these arrows back to the division right away."
Charles was uncertain. He wondered how a few blood-stained arrows and torn cloth could point them to the location of that mysterious man. Then again, the special unit might have methods far beyond normal detective work. He nodded in agreement. Both men prepared to return to their unit for further analysis of the clues, while Miranda smiled at them.
"Then I'll go see our parents first. We'll meet again at home."
The three parted ways, each following their own path. Charles and Joseph hurried to the Department of Supernatural Suppression and Defense, eager to analyze whatever clues they had gathered.
When they arrived, they dismounted from the carriage and headed straight for the building's main hall. Joseph clutched a pouch containing the two arrows, Charles by his side with his silver-topped cane in hand. They proceeded directly to the Investigation Division.
Joseph spoke up first. "We might have a lead," he announced to Edward Cavendish, who wore a serious expression as he asked, "What did you find?"
Joseph handed over the pouch. "We got these two arrows that carry traces of blood and bits of cloth from the stranger who tried to capture Charles. I suspect he might be with the Script-Decipherers. This may be crucial evidence that could lead us to their hideout."
Edward opened the pouch carefully. "Good. We need to analyze these before any trace fades." He turned to Amelia and sent her to fetch Viola Holbrook and Sebastian Morrow.
Before long, Viola and Sebastian arrived. Edward gave them the pouch. "Examine these arrows immediately," he said gravely. "We need every detail about that stranger before the clues go cold."
They both nodded, hurrying out with the evidence. With that done, all Charles and Joseph could do was wait for the results.
Charles, still curious, asked, "Do you really think these clues will lead us to the Script-Decipherers' hideout?"
Edward gave a slight smile before explaining, "Viola is an Ascendant whose power grants her an analytic eye. She can see and dissect details beyond ordinary sight, examining the minutest clues that no one else can detect. Sebastian, on the other hand, will use a tracking ritual to trace the location of whoever was injured. Together, they might find our lead."
Charles nodded, beginning to grasp the extent of Viola and Sebastian's unique abilities. Then, he laid out his own resolve to Edward. "Commander, I've made my decision. I'm going to become an Ascendant."
Edward paused. "Are you sure?"
Charles nodded. "That hostage situation showed me how helpless I was in saving that kid. If Joseph hadn't been there, I'd have been captured myself. And these hallucinations still plague me. I'd rather not choose the option of erasing my memories. I need a power that'll help me protect myself."
Meeting Edward's gaze, he repeated, "I'm certain."
Seeing Charles's resolve, Edward replied, "All right. I'll make the arrangements. But it'll take some time. You'll get an answer in a day or two."
Afterward, Charles was led to a special room in the department, intended to mitigate the hallucinations he was enduring. Joseph walked beside him, explaining, "This specialized chamber is designed to block external influences and prevent any occupant's powers from affecting others. It's essentially a precaution so people with abilities can't break out easily."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Sounds more like a cell than a room."
Joseph laughed lightly. "Well, in normal circumstances, it is a cell for detaining those with powers. If they aren't contained, someone who can control minds or unleash destructive energies might escape. In your case, you'll be in a chamber that dampens sensory input—particularly sight and hearing—to help reduce the hallucinations you've been experiencing."
"I see," Charles replied. "Why do the rooms differ?"
"Because every Ascendant or mage's abilities are different," Joseph explained. "Some powers are easier to contain, like physical strength or environmental manipulation. Others, like mind control or teleportation, require more sophisticated methods. Some cells incorporate magic seals, others mechanical devices. Each is customized to the type of power they need to suppress."
Charles sighed. "In the end, it's a fancy prison. So I'm basically going to be locked up."
Joseph smiled. "It's just for everyone's safety, but I understand it might feel that way."
They reached a solid steel door etched with arcane symbols. Before stepping inside, Charles said, "I just hope this place can keep the hallucinations at bay."
Joseph nodded. "Try to rest. Keep your mind calm before the Ascendant ritual begins."
Charles took a deep breath and walked into the chamber. It was plain yet orderly, its cold gray floor lined with carved runes. The walls were rough and dark, built from highly durable materials with a slightly textured surface. Metal shutters covered every window, blocking any view of the outside world. Only a dim lantern overhead provided light, intentionally gentle so as not to overwhelm the senses.
In one corner stood a small wooden bed with a thin mattress and folded white sheets, a tiny bedside table, and a single chair. There was also a small slot in the door for communication in emergencies.
Charles sat on the bed, setting aside a book he had picked out from the special unit's library. He scanned the room, feeling oddly isolated. Though it seemed secure and silent, the sense of being confined and cut off from the outside world weighed heavily on his mind.
…
Some time later, while Charles was inside that chamber reading, Edward, Joseph, and Viola came in with a file of new findings from Viola's analysis.
"Charles, we need your help," Edward said seriously. "We've got the test results, but we still need a detective's insight to pinpoint the Script-Decipherers' location."
Charles lifted his gaze from the book. "Sure. Let me see what I can do."
Viola handed him the documents. "Here is what we discovered. We found traces of medium-grade bread, good-quality tea, high-grade soil, and fine horsehair with top-grade grooming oil in the torn cloth from that stranger's clothes."
Charles studied the report. "What about the blood we found earlier? Were you able to track him?"
Joseph shook his head. "They severed the link before we could complete our ritual. That's why we need to rely on these other clues. Of all of us, you're the best detective we have."
Charles shot him a sidelong glance. "Well, you're flattering me for once." He turned back to the report, reading carefully.
"Huh... Medium-grade bread," he pondered. "If they're in hiding, why buy bread at that price? Why not something cheaper? This bread isn't the cheapest available in the market, which makes me wonder why they aren't being more economical." Charles paused thoughtfully. "It's possible they're trying to maintain some balance of funds while avoiding suspicion. Or maybe they simply can't access cheaper supplies."
Edward chimed in, "Or they're forced to pay a certain price. Could it be that they can't get the cheapest goods?"
"Exactly," Charles agreed. "If they're stationed in an area that mostly has higher-quality merchandise, or someplace where discount groceries aren't readily available... Think about it—maybe they're in a wealthy neighborhood with only higher-end shops."
Viola began to understand. "So they might be holed up in the knight district or the royal district?"
"Yes," Charles answered. "But the royal district is heavily guarded. It'd be too risky for them. So the knight district is more plausible."
He tapped the paper. "That high-grade soil likely came from a well-tended garden, not a common farm. Meanwhile, the fine horsehair and grooming oil suggest a stable of high-quality horses nearby. This fits a noble estate or a manor with a carefully maintained garden and expensive horses for riding pleasure."
Joseph snapped his fingers. "So they might be hiding in some wealthy residence where there's a lavish garden and stable—and they're buying groceries from a market that sells mid to high-grade products."
"Right." Charles nodded. "The closest market with that level of quality is the grand market in the city center. It's a busy place, full of merchants, and selling at least mid-range goods. That means somewhere not too far from that big market, in the knight district, there should be an estate with stables and a well-kept garden."
Edward smiled. "I knew you'd prove invaluable."
Charles returned the smile. "Glad to help," he said, though inwardly recalling all the injuries he had endured of late.
Joseph then asked, "What about Michael Berg? We still haven't found any new information on him."
Charles agreed. "Yeah, we still don't have a single lead on Michael beyond what we already knew."
Edward exhaled. "Once we confirm whether Charles can become an Ascendant, you two will go on missions together. If his request is denied, Joseph, you'll have to go on alone."
Charles felt the pressure and muttered, "Then you'll be stuck with it by yourself, though I'll help any way I can."
Joseph raised a brow. "How?"
Charles grinned. "I'll send positive thoughts from in here."
Joseph said nothing, merely rolling his eyes slightly.
Edward cut in, turning to Joseph. "Regardless, as soon as we figure out where the Script-Decipherers are hiding, we need to act. Taking down that group is our top priority. If we succeed, we might also uncover more about Michael—or perhaps even find him with them."
All in the room agreed to the plan, a renewed sense of determination filling the air. For Charles, everything now hinged on the department's approval regarding his request. In a day or two, he would either step into the realm of Ascendants—or remain as he was, haunted by illusions and sidelined from the fight that awaited.