The city of Argon woke up screaming.
The smoke was still rising over the Western sector.
A bunch of people were standing in front of Will's house.
"He was killed , A head is missing and the pieces of brain lying around." A police officer spoke while writing this in his notepad.
Four to five journalists were asking different people about what they saw and heard.
"Mam what do you think ? Who killed Mr.lek ?" One of the journalists asked a woman standing nearby.
"I don't have any idea...only thing i heard was three exploding sounds at different times...i didn't expect he was brutally murdered."
The journalist nodded and wrote her statements on his notepad.
One of the other journalists was asking some questions about Mark and Eldrin.
"What do you think sir ? All three of them are dead...this canybe a coincidence what is your take on this ?"
The man wearing a tailored suit answered.
"No idea...it's weird because this was so unexpected and I think the main problem is about police...why the police is at a point which is almost equally far from all sectors."
The journalist wrote his statement and asked, "What do you mean sir ?"
The man continued.
"I mean Western sector is the most important for the whole Valthokar kingdom for financially and economically all companies, high tier workers and wagon driver who has permit works here and Southern sector is equally important but why are we even prioritizing eastern sector."
The journalist aggressively wrote the man's statement and asked, "So are you saying...the distance between Police station and Eastern sector should be more so we could prioritize Western sector."
The man nodded. "Exactly...Eastern sector is useless i don't know why it even exist we should just expand Western and Southern sector and most importantly Southern sector have thier officials then why are we undefended?"
A small greedy smile occurred on the journalist's face.
The journalist was going to open his mouth when he heard someone shouting.
"Please shut up !" Another journalist was shouting at a woman.
"No...I will not...I'm saying this is not murder or simple act of robbery it's far worse than this....I'm saying we all should pray to Goddess of Nature."
"Shut up !"
It was not the journalist who shouted. It was the police officer.
The police officer continued, "If any single damn conspiracy or rumours came out in a event like this....trust me then things will really go worse."
The crowd went silent.
Only a single journalist was asking questions to a man. The man was wearing a tailored suit, his black hair covering some part of his brown ordinary eyes.
The journalist asked, "Sir...what do you think ? All this murders happened on the same night on which your party was held."
And even before he could answer, many journalists noticed him and covered him.
"Yes...we want answers sir."
"We really want to see what is your side....Mr.Xyle."
Alaric inhaled slowly and answered, "I can't say anything...as last night all three especially Mark and Eldrin were heavily drunk so it could be an accident by there side and about Will i don't have any idea."
Another journalist asked instantly, "Mr.Xyle you were missing for eighteen days and then suddenly came back...how ?"
"I'm not here for that am i ?"
The journalists swarmed closer, the tips of their fountain pens poised aggressively over their notepads like bayonets. The crowd pressed inward, eager to catch every syllable falling from the lips of the man who had hosted the final, fatal gathering of the Western Sector's top merchants.
"But Mr. Xyle!" a younger reporter from the Truths fo Argon shouted over.
"The timing is too precise! They leave your estate after a public brawl, and within two hours, all three of their mansions are reduced to ash. Are you suggesting three separate, catastrophic accidents occurred simultaneously?"
Alaric didn't blink. His expression remained entirely neutral, a masterclass in aristocratic deflection.
"The winter months are notoriously hazardous for blue coal gas lines," Alaric replied, his voice smooth, steady, and loud enough to carry over the murmuring crowd.
"When individuals consume heavy amounts of vintage wine, their capacity to monitor standard household safety diminishes. It is a tragedy, certainly, but correlation does not equal causation."
"And what about the rumors of a 'Child of Devil' or a 'Child of God' returning to the sector?" another journalist pressed eagerly, her eyes gleaming with the prospect of a sensational headline.
Alaric let out a soft, dismissive sigh, looking directly into the reporter's eyes.
"The public imagination is far more volatile than the market," Alaric stated calmly, adjusting the lapels of his immaculate coat.
"Eighteen days ago, the rumors claimed I was dead in a ditch. Today, they claim I am a creature of myth. If I spent my time addressing every fantasy whispered in the lower docks, I would never have time to manage my exports. I deal in numbers, not ghost stories."
The police officer who had cleared the previous conspiracy theorists stepped in, his heavy baton out to bar the journalists from pushing any closer to the high-tier merchant.
"That's enough! Back up, all of you! Give Mr. Xyle some space to breathe."
Alaric offered the officer a polite, superficial nod of appreciation.
Without giving the press another second to formulate a question, he turned on his heel, his dark brown eyes catching the distant, lingering columns of black smoke cutting into the sky.
He walked away from the ruined perimeter of Will's estate, leaving the journalists frantically scrambling to turn his empty, evasive words into tomorrow's front-page news.
Before he could leave, the same woman who was shouting hurriedly blocked Alaric's path. Even before Alaric could ask what she was doing, the woman opened her mouth.
"Mr.Xyle...you are the one who is behind this right ?"
Alaric answered nonchalantly, "If I'm the one then why are you asking the murderer."
"What are you saying ?"
"What are you saying..miss? Don't utter anything to satisfy that ego of yours and i am not unemployed...move i have to go."
The woman did move, but she still asked, "What do you mean satisfy your ego? You-"
Alaric walked away while saying, "Whatever it is...i don't know what is your relation with them but just accept it as the truth."
Alaric walked away, his steps measured and entirely unhurried as his boots crunched through the graying slush.
Behind him, the woman stood paralyzed, her mouth half-open, completely stunned into silence. Her mind frantically spun, utterly unable to process the cold, riddle-like finality of his words.
The directive to accept it as the truth was not a denial, nor was it a confession, it was a terrifyingly calm rejection of her existence.
By the time she managed to blink, Alaric's immaculate charcoal coat had already melted into the surrounding crowd, vanishing as if he were a ghost shifting through the fog.
The journalists didn't dare follow him further, their attention instantly pulled back to the smoldering carcass of the Lek estate.
Exactly twenty minutes passed. The mundane chatter of the onlookers and the scratching of reporters' pens came to a sudden, violent halt.
The temperature in the street didn't just drop, it froze into a suffocating, dense vacuum that made everyone's lungs seize.
From the end of the snow-cleared avenue, a sleek, ominous reddish-black car purred into view. It bore no merchant insignias or common sector stamps.
The deep, dark crimson paint bled into the pitch-black steel panels, catching the pale winter light like drying blood on a blade. Emblazoned subtly on the heavy chassis was the golden, stylized crest of the high crown—the unmistakable marking of Ascilis.
The car stopped right in front of Will's ruined gates, its mechanical engine idling with a low, menacing growl.
The police officer's face drained of color so fast he nearly dropped his notepad, his knees buckling into an immediate, trembling salute. The journalists instinctively retreated, their previous greed replaced by a primal, desperate survival instinct.
The heavy, reinforced door swung open. A figure stepped out onto the blood-stained snow, their posture radiating a terrifying, absolute authority that made even the smoke rising from the ruins seem to bow.
The Crown had officially arrived to audit the slaughterhouse, and the Western Sector's loose rumors were about to meet the unyielding blade of royal scrutiny. All the citizens, journalists, and police officers immediately bowed.
Ascilis's blue eyes scanned the whole area as he slowly chuckled.
"I'm not here for this." Ascilis stretching out his finger towards the estate.
"I'm here for the most important announcement of this decade...after one whole century 'The Lunar ecplise' is happening again on thirty first of December , more accurately night of thirtieth December."
Every single person was stunned by this announcement. The police officer tried to ask something. "Your highness..there are not too many people here..."
Before the police officer could finish his sentence, Ascilis answered.
"No , I didn't wasted my energy at all..i also wanted to see what happened here partially so i thought to announce also...the proper announcement will happen soon."
The citizens were expecting the Lunar eclipse to begin on December 30th. But it had started the moment Alaric came back from the Void.
Mr. Seller had accepted his reality in the most brutal way possible.