Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
"What was the lead, Captain?" Lumian asked eagerly.
Hargreaves slipped his phone back into his pocket and shook his head. "Well… I don't know."
Outside the window, the rain had grown heavier, thunder cracking across the dark sky.
The waiting room felt damp from the weather, while in the recreational hall nearby, Lury could be heard playing with the others during their short break.
Hargreaves continued, "He told me we should come and see it ourselves. Apparently, he noticed it during the autopsy but chose not to reveal it until the Duke was buried… so it wouldn't cause unnecessary trouble."
Lumian sighed slightly before asking, "Captain… should we go now?"
Hargreaves glanced toward the window, watching the rain pour down before letting out a small chuckle.
"Suit yourself."
With that, he walked over and sat down on a nearby couch.
...
Lumian was slightly taken aback. His lips twitched faintly before he walked forward and took a seat beside his captain.
For a moment, silence filled the room.
Another thunderclap rang outside. Through the window, the streets were slick with rain, droplets striking the glass one after another.
Lumian thought carefully before speaking. "Captain… I want to ask you something about the St. Mary Text."
Hargreaves glanced at him. "What is it, Lumian?"
Lumian smiled faintly before replying, "Well, I don't mean to criticize us, but… where exactly was the text kept? It seemed rather easy for someone to steal it."
Hargreaves rubbed his chin as he looked at Lumian.
After a few seconds, he finally spoke. "I think they may be another spy in the faculty. Because, the text was kept in a very hidden place near my office."
He leaned back slightly. "It was actually behind my office. I'm sure even you didn't know where it was. That alone should tell you how well it was hidden."
He chuckled softly before continuing. "Let me blow your mind. It was kept in the next room behind my office, inside the walls of the cathedral. The entrance could only be opened through a series of special hand movements."
Lumian's eyes widened slightly.
"It was hidden so well," Hargreaves added, "that you'd probably encounter cursed items before you ever found it."
"Cursed items…" Lumian murmured.
...
"Captain… what are cursed items?" Lumian asked. It was a term he had never heard before.
Hargreaves raised his brows slightly before smiling. "You see, there are many things hidden in this world that you still don't know about," he said with a chuckle. "Cursed items are objects—or rather artifacts—that originated from the Creator's thoughts."
Lumian frowned slightly, clearly not understanding.
Hargreaves noticed his confusion and continued. "In simple terms, cursed items are manifestations of the Creator's ideas that somehow took physical form."
"They are usually categorized according to these ideas."
He raised three fingers. "The first idea, formed during the Age of Divine Intervention, is called the Wheel of Perception."
"The second idea, discovered during the Age of Steampunk, is the Chest of Salamar."
"And the third idea is known as the Pen of Redemption."
"Wait… are there only those three?" Lumian quickly interrupted.
"No," Hargreaves replied calmly. "There should be many more thoughts that have taken form. These three were simply the ones recorded in the Book of Wisdom."
"They are graded according to their ideas," he continued. "With Idea One always considered the most dangerous."
Lumian nodded slowly before asking another question. "But Captain… how do we know they're the most powerful? Do we even possess one?"
...
Hargreaves smiled at Lumian, his lips twitching into a teasing grin. After a moment, he replied, "Yes… we have. Two, in fact."
"Seriously, Captain…" Lumian said, marveling at the revelation.
Hargreaves chuckled softly. "Yes. Other faculties have them too, but the main church provides these to us to ensure they aren't lost. The Crimson Choir has one, the Celestial Brigade has two… and we…" He paused, letting the suspense hang. "We have two."
"Woohoo!" Lumian exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement. "We have two, Captain! Which ones?"
Hargreaves leaned back slightly. "The Wheel of Perception… and Idea 3—the Key of Silent Doors."
Lumian raised his brows, clearly intrigued. "Captain, if Idea 1 artifacts are the strongest, created during the Age of Divine Intervention, then the Key of Silent Doors… what age was that created in?"
Hargreaves' expression softened as he explained, "Slightly after the Age of Steampunk—what you might call the Age of Modern Preparation."
Lumian nodded thoughtfully, rubbing his chin and smiling. "Interesting. But… Captain, where exactly did we even find them?"
Hargreaves let out a soft laugh. "We didn't. The Church did. They've been tracking these artifacts, searching the world for objects born of the Creator's thoughts. And thankfully, they managed to locate five of them." He gave Lumian a sly look. "Hehe… lucky us, right?"
...
Lumian chuckled and asked, "But Captain… I thought the Crimson Sun appears only once every century. Does that mean the Age of Modern Preparation lasted a century?"
Hargreaves shook his head. "No. The Age of Modern Preparation was fifty years before our current age. The Crimson Sun itself appeared a hundred years ago, that was the time of Steampunk, before appearing six years ago, in our Age."
Lumian nodded, and with this topic he formed a excuse and asked another question. "What about the Eidolon that Mr. Derrick refined back then? Is it like a cursed item, since it comes from a curse?"
Hargreaves shook his head again. "Not exactly. Eidolons aren't cursed items. Think of them as refined manifestations of curses. While cursed items can be recreated through refinement, the process is cumbersome. Eidolons are more like… companions for humans. They're dangerous but extremely useful. And they level up along with their user. For example, if you're a Phase 9, the Eidolon is Grade 9. When you move to Phase 8, it becomes Grade 8."
Lumian nodded thoughtfully. So that means Eidolons probably have some consciousness… he thought inwardly. But why isn't mine talking yet? Maybe it only communicates at higher grades…
...
Tap! Tap! Whoosh!
After their brief discussion, the rain had softened to a gentle drizzle. Lumian had slept peacefully on the couch until Hargreaves tapped him lightly, waking him abruptly. He looked around—the faculty was dark, nearly pitch black. Not paying much mind, they quickly left the building and headed toward the mortuary camp, under the rain, as Kelvin took the car, this time.
...
Lamenti, Mortuary Camp.
A series of knocks echoed through the tall building—one, then two, then three. After a moment, a man opened the door. His golden eyes scanned the two figures standing outside: one with a faint beard and a black coat, the other in blue and black, wearing a hat. Their clothes were damp from the rain.
The man stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. With a polite smile, he clasped his hands. "Good evening sirs. This is the mortuary camp. Please proceed to the receptionist to register your time, date, and the person you wish to bury."
Hargreaves shook his head, smiling faintly. "We're not here for body preservation... We're here to see Mr. Glacy."
The man raised an eyebrow. "Oh… what for? Is he the one with your corpse."
"Something like that," Hargreaves replied.
The man studied them for a moment before nodding and moving toward the stairs.
"Follow me."
...
They walked up the stairs, finally stopping in front of a door. The man turned to them. "Here's the graveyarder's office. Wait here, let me inform him of your visit."
Hargreaves nodded as the man opened the door, showing the interior properly. The office was dim, with the grey sky outside casting faint light through the curtains. Near the fireplace, Mr. Glacy sat leisurely in a small chair, flipping a coin in his right hand while casually reading a newspaper.
The man approached him and said softly, "Mr. Glacy, some people are here to see you."
Glacy nodded without looking up. "Let them in."
The man walked towards the door and stepped aside.
"Please, come in."
Hargreaves and Lumian entered, and the man went out, and closed the door behind him.
Silence came upon the room, as Hargreaves took a seat in the only other chair near Glacy, while Lumian remained standing next to him like a guard.
After a few moments, Glacy dropped the coin onto the armrest and folded the newspaper neatly. He leaned forward slightly, a calm smile on his face. "Good evening. About that big lead I mentioned…" His voice dropped, drawing their attention. "Remember the autopsy we performed in your faculty? I noticed something… unusual. The Duke's heart—and several other organs—were missing."
...
"What do you mean by that?" Hargreaves asked.
Mr. Glacy coughed lightly before standing and walking over to his desk. He opened a drawer and brought out a small glass jar. Inside it, a black fly buzzed weakly, circling the glass.
Returning to his seat, he placed the jar on the small table between them.
"This," he said calmly, "is something I found inside the Duke's body."
Lumian leaned forward slightly, studying the insect.
"After performing a few experiments, I noticed it's close to dying—perhaps by tomorrow. But its real purpose isn't survival." Glacy paused before continuing. "It's meant to control a person. Think of it as a form of parasitism."
Hargreaves sighed softly, staring at the jar. "That would explain the possession," he muttered. "But does that mean it bit Duke Joshua and entered his body?"
Mr. Glacy shook his head.
"No. This parasite can only enter the body through direct intake."
"You mean… food?" Lumian asked.
"Yes," the graveyarder replied calmly.
Hargreaves leaned back, thinking carefully. "So the reason it's still alive is because the possessor miscalculated… not expecting the duke's body to be found within two days."
He suddenly paused. "Wait... you said it had been eaten."
He turned slowly toward Lumian. "Lady Patricia was the one who cooked his meals before handing them to the maids… who then delivered the food to the Duke."
Hargreaves frowned deeply.
"Could she be the one?"
...
Lumian frowned, clearly unwilling to believe it. "Captain… but that was when the Duke started locking himself in his room. Didn't you see the untouched food scattered on the floor?"
Hargreaves nodded slowly. "Remember, she might have been doing this long before he began isolating himself," he said calmly. "Think about the sequence of events. Lacey went missing. After that, Duke Joshua started locking himself in his room, though he still came out occasionally to eat."
He paused briefly before continuing. "Our text went missing. Later we confirmed it had been with Lacey. We couldn't recover it. Then we brought the news that Lacey was dead… and shortly afterward, the Duke died as well."
Hargreaves looked at Lumian seriously. "Doesn't that sound connected? Before the Duke completely shut himself away, who was the one responsible for preparing his food?"
He folded his arms, thinking. "And remember—Lacey disappeared. If Patricia poisoned him during that time… and later, after hearing the news of her son's death, finished the job…"
Lumian raised his brows slightly.
He let out a quiet sigh.
If that's the case… he thought inwardly, does that mean Patricia is connected to the Obstaque Order? Because even if her husband drove their son away… could she really kill him?
Hargreaves stood up and picked up the jar containing the fly. "Lumian, let's go. The police are interrogating Patricia right now. Vincent is there as well."
Lumian nodded and followed him toward the door.
"Alright, Captain."
...
Blackhead District, No. 34 — near Birgy Police Station.
As the rain suddenly grew heavier, a taxi pulled up from a nearby street and stopped in front of the police station. Two figures stepped out, adjusting their clothes slightly.
Hargreaves reached into his pocket and paid the driver twelve pounds. Earlier, before leaving, he had also paid the graveyarder for his work.
Without wasting time, the two of them hurried toward the station entrance and stepped inside.
Because of the rain, the officers inside were either resting or chatting leisurely with one another. Only four of them were in the reception hall.
Hargreaves walked up to the desk and tapped it lightly, waking the receptionist who had been dozing off.
The man raised his head groggily. Seeing that it wasn't the same receptionist he had spoken to before, Hargreaves simply smiled and asked, "Excuse me, where is the interrogation room?"
Still half-asleep, the man blinked a few times before pointing down the hallway. "Three doors down… to the right."
Hargreaves nodded.
Without another word, he and Lumian walked in that direction.
...
Approaching a white door, they knocked before opening it softly.
Inside, two officers stood in front of Patricia, who sat quietly in her chair. One wore a black coat and hat, while the other was dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. Vincent stood nearby, watching the scene carefully.
The group briefly turned their heads toward the newcomers before returning their gaze to Patricia.
Lumian and Hargreaves stepped forward.
Hargreaves gently patted the man in the hat on the shoulder and said with a faint smile, "Sir, I think we can take it from here. This matter may involve something… supernatural. And of course, that's not exactly your line of work, hehe."
The man paused to think for a moment before smiling slightly. "Well, I happen to be the captain of this station," he said calmly. "So I'll stay. Hart here can step out."
He gestured toward the other officer, who nodded before quietly leaving the room.
...
Hargreaves exchanged a few quiet words with the captain before turning toward Patricia with a gentle smile. "Lady Patricia… I'm truly sorry for your loss."
He placed a hand softly over hers. "You have no idea how sorry I am. For a grieving wife and a grieving mother to be brought back here for questioning…" He sighed softly. "I truly feel your pain."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "But you understand that the investigation must go on. It's not that I suspect you. I only need you to answer a few questions truthfully… and everything will be fine."
He gestured toward Lumian.
Lumian stepped forward and handed him the jar. "Lady Patricia," Hargreaves said calmly, placing the glass jar on the table. "Do you know anything about this?"
The room fell into complete silence.
Patricia's gaze remained lowered for several seconds. Then slowly, she lifted her head and looked at the jar with dull, gloomy eyes.
Her lips trembled slightly.
For a moment it seemed as though she might say nothing at all.
Then finally, her voice came out faint and unstable.
"…It's me."
Everyone in the room froze.
"I killed him."
...
Hargreaves exchanged a glance with Lumian, who wore a completely dumbfounded expression. He then looked toward Vincent, who stood beside Lumian with the same stunned look on his face.
Hargreaves smiled faintly before turning back to Patricia.
"Lady Patricia," he said calmly, "I asked you to answer truthfully. Is that truly your answer?"
Patricia looked at them, and tears suddenly began to fall from her eyes. "What do you want me to say?" she cried. "I said I killed him!"
Hargreaves slowly shook his head and brought the jar closer to her. "So you used this?" he asked softly. "What exactly is it… and how does it work?"
At those words, Patricia suddenly fell silent.
After a moment, she replied quietly,
"I… don't know."
The room grew silent.
Hargreaves gently placed his hand over hers once again and spoke in a soft voice. "Lady Patricia… I trust you."
Patricia slowly withdrew her hand and lowered her gaze, thinking for a moment before speaking again.
"One night… after Lacey disappeared… I was asleep. Then I had a dream."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"In that dream, I saw myself cooking food for my husband… and placing a strange fly into the meal."
She paused. "Not long after that… he began isolating himself."
She wiped her eyes weakly. "When you people first came to the house, I was afraid… so I didn't mention the dream."
She looked up at them with exhausted eyes.
"So there you have it. Arrest me if you want."
"I killed him."
...
Hargreaves let out a quiet sigh before turning to Lumian and Vincent. Seeing this, the captain stepped forward and joined them.
"It isn't Lady Patricia who killed the Duke," Hargreaves said calmly. "The one responsible should be the same sorcerer who possessed him."
Vincent nodded thoughtfully. "I already suspected Patricia couldn't have done it."
Hargreaves continued, "The sorcerer in question likely belongs to the Animal Tamer Order. Probably a Phase 8. He couldn't control Patricia for long, so using that time he kept the parasite inside the food."
Vincent chuckled lightly before adding, "So let's recap the situation."
He folded his arms. "The perpetrator belongs to a secret organization that wants the St. Mary Text. They used Duke Joshua's body as a medium to check if Lacey had returned after running away… and once the news of Lacey's death reached them, they killed the Duke."
Hargreaves nodded. "That sums it up."
He then tapped the captain lightly before turning to Lumian. "Lumian, take the jar back home and get some rest. It's already seven. But come back around eleven so we can perform a divination and locate the perpetrator before the parasite dies."
He looked at the jar seriously.
"And be careful with it."
Lumian nodded and picked up the jar.
Hargreaves then turned back to the captain. "There's something else. Earlier I tried to retrieve the file of a particular maid, but the receptionist wouldn't allow it."
The captain frowned slightly. "Why's that?"
Then he rolled his eyes in understanding.
"Oh… that's probably because people often bring exaggerated matters here."
Hargreaves nodded. "Could I have access to the files now?"
"No problem," the captain replied. "As long as it helps the investigation."
About five minutes later, Lumian left the station and began heading home with the jar in his hand.
...
As Lumian entered his home, he forgot to remove his shoes. Setting the jar on the table, he finally kicked off his shoes and headed to the kitchen. Some rice remained, which he scooped onto his plate with relief. A glass of water later, he carried everything to his chair. The house was silent—Kelvin and Laura had clearly fallen asleep.
He ate slowly, bite by bite, finishing his meal. After washing his plate, he carefully carried the jar to his room, set it on the table, and collapsed onto his bed. Sleep overtook him almost immediately.
...
After some time, Lumian gradually opened his eyes and rubbed it, as he looked around. This time the moon wasn't pale but rather crimson.
A few minutes of confusion went by, until he finally realized that this was one of the Pale Moon Goddess dreams.
On the counter, a book lay to his left, a pistol to his right. Understanding the situation Lumian said inwardly.
I communicated with her... finding out she wants the text. This should be her message; whether I accept or not.
The book represents acceptance, the gun represents reluctance.
He studied the materials, before chuckling.
Since the Obstaque Order wants it, and the Pale Moon Goddess wants it also, that means she's the one giving them the order to find the text, since the Church of Pale Moon Goddess aligned with the order.
Resolutely, Lumian refused her offer. If that's the case, I refuse! Yes, I can't accept this!
He lifted the gun, pressing it to his temple. His lips twisted into a defiant smile.
Bang!