Chapter 103

Lyra Jorn’s serene smile faded as soon as her eyes fell on Sir Enric.

Ashthorn poison turned their victim’s skin black like frostbite while the muscle was drained of all liquid, leaving behind a dried, unrecognizable carcass. Yet, I could detect a hint of curiosity in the eyes of the girl. The man who walked before Lyra didn’t react to the gruesome scene. Holst.

Darius Holst was a man well in his forties, with the proud presence of someone raised in a noble household. His facial complexion was eerily similar to the Marquis. However, unlike the Marquis, Holst was slender as a whip, almost like an Olympic fencer. I could tell the same blood flowed within their veins, but what caught my attention was his eyes. Sharp. Attentive. Cunning.

I noticed it too late. My support request didn’t just include Lyra Jorn but all the Scholars at the party. I swore under my breath and gave a quick look at Elincia. Her eyes burned with anger.

“This is Preceptor Holst. My old mentor at the Imperial Library,” Lyra stuttered, trying her best to ignore Sir Enric’s corpse.

“My pleasure,” Lord Vedras replied.

“What is the situation?” Holst asked, looking over Lord Vedras’ shoulder at where Raudhan lay.

My father’s voice echoed in my mind. Courtesy does not diminish bravery.

“Here, we are treating Raudhan right now,” I said, inviting Holst to check on the young man. I couldn’t prevent a man from checking his sick relative, not even Holst.

“Thanks,” Holst succinctly said as he knelt by Raudhan’s side just before Elincia.

[Awareness] warned me of impending danger. Holst didn’t recognize her, but Elincia clenched her fist around the empty potion vial. The traitor who had brought the orphanage to the brink of destruction was within Elincia’s reach, but she remained still. I thanked her silently.

Holst lit the tip of his finger using mana and opened Raudhan’s eyelids to examine the area. I leaned forward to observe the procedure. [Awareness] informed me that the sclera and the mucous membrane were healthy. Then, Holst continued by examining Raudhan’s mouth, inner cheeks, and under his tongue. Finally, he checked the neck and the tips of his hands.

I couldn’t notice any trace of damage caused by the Ashthorn poison. There was no gangrene nor any sign of strange coloration that could give away the poison’s presence in his organism. Other than the weak breathing, Raudhan’s body seemed to be healthy. [Identify] didn’t show me more than what was already apparent.

“The poison was stopped before extending through his body,” Holst said without a hint of emotion in his voice. [Awareness] detected a hint of anger, but he did his best to keep it under wraps.

“We were using high-quality potions, but with Ashthorn poison, one never knows,” Lord Vedras said.

“I didn’t notice any lingering symptoms, and his Personal Sheet says the poison is receding,” Holst said just to turn to face Elincia. “Thank you for saving my nephew. I’m in your debt. Anything you want, just ask me.”

Elincia opened her mouth, but I stepped forward before she could ask Holst to end his own life. I read it in her eyes. Elincia was reaching her limit, and as much as I wanted justice for the orphanage, I couldn’t have those two destroying my crime scene.

“We will remember that. For now, let’s focus on the investigation,” I said, giving Elincia a pleading glance.

“For now,” Elincia replied, not in the slightest happy.

Cooperating with Holst rubbed me the wrong way, but I was ready to put my grudges away for my kids. Momentarily. If half of what Abei had told me about Holst was true, the man was a top-notch Scholar. I could use him.

We needed to get down to work. We had until the barrier fell to solve the crime.

“Did you notice anything important?” I asked.

Holst nodded.

“Raudhan’s body shows no after-effects of the poisoning, so I can’t tell what poison was used on him. It’s safe to say he was poisoned with the same Ashthorn poison that killed Sir Enric,” Holst said, focusing on the facts. “I noticed Izabeka and Raudhan exchanging seats before the banquet. It’s reasonable to think the original target might have been her. Unless she is the perpetrator.”

Holst’s theory caught me off-guard.

“Raudhan is Captain Kiln’s nephew. She had no motive to kill him,” I said.

Holst raised an eyebrow.

“Raudhan had been hanging out with the wrong people, and the Guard isn’t as tight-knit as it used to be. It’s only logical to say that Raudhan has a strong case for being Izabeka’s successor if something happens to her,” Holst said.

“Captain Kiln is like a mother to–.”

I couldn’t finish the sentence because Holst interrupted me. “If you will lead this investigation, Robert Clarke, you better shed all preconceptions and focus only on the truth. The fact is, there have been political assassinations over a lot less.”

I bit my thumbnail. Holst didn’t know that Raudhan was a double agent working for Captain Kiln to unveil the dissident faction among the Guard. I dismissed those ideas and focused on the present.

“Captain Kiln poisoning Raudhan doesn’t account for Sir Enric getting poisoned. She wasn’t close enough to poison Sir Enric’s cup,” I finally said.

“You might be right. My theory, although plausible, doesn’t account for Sir Enric,” Holst said. I expected him to be more defensive of his theory. “To solve the crime, we must first figure out what the victims have in common and how the poison was introduced to the party.”

Holst was right. We needed a theory.

“Can you take Raudhan to a safe room to rest properly?” I asked, looking at Lord Vedras and Elincia. It felt strange to boss a duke around, but keeping him on the floor wouldn’t be good for anyone. They both nodded and grabbed Raudhan by the arms and legs.

I followed them with my eyes until they left the room.

“Maybe Captain Kiln and Sir Enric weren’t the only targets. There can be other poisoned cups that didn’t get to be consumed,” Lyra said as soon as we were left alone.

Holst nodded approvingly with a proud teacher's expression.

“I already checked everything. There’s no other poisoned cups, plates, or cutlery,” I replied. “Captain Kiln and Sir Enric are the only targets.”

“That’s weird,” Lyra said.

Weird was an understatement. The crime scene didn’t make sense.

I used [Identify] on Sir Enric.

Enric Osgiria’s corpse. [Identify] The withered body of a victim of Ashthorn poison.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Not much more than we already knew. I looked at the ballroom. The food was still hot on the table while the chairs had been haphazardly strewn around. I felt the scene was trying to tell me a story, but I couldn’t guess where to start reading. Then, my eyes fell on the chair Prince Adrien had kicked across the room. Wasn’t it strange that a man as calm and pragmatic as the Prince would suddenly rage? It was almost as if he was destroying a clue.

Before Lyra could voice her theory, I walked through the room and knelt by the chair’s remains. Good, varnished wood. High-quality dyed fabric. Spongy cotton. I activated my mana sense, trying to catch anything my eyes couldn’t notice. I fed [Awareness] with Fountain Mana, and the skill filled my brain with information. Materials, craftsmanship, the position of the splinters, old hits and nicks, but ultimately nothing of use.

It was just a broken chair.

“Suspecting the Prince?” Holst’s voice came from behind me. There was no trace of accusation in his tone. “Good. I underestimated you, Robert Clarke, but now I know you are a true Scholar at heart. Tell me. What’s going through your mind?”

Our logic was failing because of our preconceptions. We were trying to find something that wasn’t there. Captain Kiln and Sir Enric had nothing in common.

“This isn’t one crime scene. This is two different crime scenes in the same room. One is the true victim. The other is a misdirection attempt,” I muttered.

Holst followed my eyes toward the table.

“I was thinking the same,” he replied without abandoning his emotionless expression. “But that idea is a preconception on its own. We have no clues to back it up. To test our theory, we need a brain that hasn’t been poisoned by it.”

Lyra approached us, walking as fast as her dress allowed her.

“A clue?” She asked, examining the chair with mana in her eyes.

“No. Focus. Who could’ve wanted Sir Enric and Captain Kiln killed?” Holst asked. He wasn’t just asking Lyra for information but using her as a tool to check his own line of thought.

The girl toyed with her necklace as a mindful expression was drawn on her face.

“A foreign power trying to weaken our defense capabilities. Sir Enric was the general of the second-largest army in the kingdom. Captain Kiln might be a small name, but having the Farlands under control is also important for a country’s stability,” Lyra replied without skipping a beat.

“And yet, the attack came from within the party. We are all subjects to the crown,” Holst pointed out.

“Someone betrayed us, maybe?” Lyra replied just to stop mid-sentence. “No. Sir Enric and Captain Kiln are easily replaceable. To truly cause inner turmoil, foreign powers must create division between or within houses. A more proper target would’ve been a duke or their successor. Something that could ignite infighting.”

Holst nodded.

“Neither is it an attempt to make houses fight each other. Otherwise, the culprit would’ve framed someone else,” Lyra added, her face suddenly illuminating.

“So, no external power and no attempt to destabilize the kingdom,” Holst smiled for the first time in the night. He looked like a hungry jackal. “Any other thoughts, Miss Jorn?”

Lyra looked around, panicking like only a student being questioned by a strict teacher could.

“Misdirection? One was the actual target of the assassination attempt. The other one is an innocent passerby,” Lyra said, her eyebrows almost meeting in the middle of her face. “Sir Enric has to be the real target, while Captain Kiln is a red herring! You don’t kill the General of the most important ducal house just to cover the assassination of a Captain!”

Holst clapped.

“Correct, Miss Jorn. It’s a shame you had to leave the Imperial Library so early,” he said.

I could tell those words meant the world to Lyra.

“If we work under the assumption that the target was Sir Enric, who would benefit the most from his death?” I asked.

The first suspect to come to my mind was Prince Adrien. A newly appointed general would want to show its prowess despite House Osgiria’s reluctance to put all their power into the Farlands campaign. A new Osgirian General would help the royalist faction.

“The man who would benefit the most is Lord Victor Osgiria,” Lyra said. “The previous Duke appointed Sir Enric as general. Sir Enric also was dangerously close to the top of the succession line for Lord Osgiria to be comfortable with him having control of the army.”

“Yes. Sir Enric was gathering too much power within House Osgiria. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine Victor killing him despite being a high-level warrior,” Holst said.

I nodded in silence. Calling Lyra to help had been the right decision.

“Who else?” I asked. Centering our efforts on a single suspect at this point of the investigation might lead us to a dead end. I would rather see the whole picture first.

“Prince Adrien,” Holst said without missing a beat.

“P-Prince Adrien?” Lyra stuttered as she looked around to make sure we were alone.

“Don’t fear the truth, Miss Jorn,” Holst replied. “Sir Enric was an anti-royalist just like Victor Osgiria, despite the friction between them. The royalist faction would benefit from his death.”

A bitter smile appeared on my face as I realized both factions could’ve killed Sir Enric, the one he was against and the one he swore to defend. Court intrigue was a cold game without a final whistle, and I had agreed to play. I hoped I was a better player than Sir Enric and luckier than Raudhan.

“What about us?” Lyra suddenly asked. “Aren’t we suspects like everyone else at the party?”

“Have something to admit, Miss Jorn?” Holst asked with a disappointed teacher’s voice.

“N-no! Why would I?” Lyra stuttered.

“We are Scholars, Lyra. I’m certain we don’t have the skill to smuggle poison through five Sniffers even if we had a strong reason to kill Sir Enric,” I said, prompting a pleased smile from Holst. I hadn’t realized it, but he was putting me to a test.

“Shouldn’t we share our Personal Sheets nonetheless? I mean. Just in case?” Lyra said, giving me a meaningful look.

I understood her hidden message instantly. We had shared Character Sheets not a couple of hours earlier. Lyra was suspecting Holst.

“You have yet to trick me, Miss Jorn,” Holst broke the silence. He looked at us with an amused expression. “I don’t mind showing you if that eases your suspicion. Use [Identify] if you believe I’m hiding something.”

Holst summoned his Character Sheet with a controlled hand movement and turned it around.

Name: Darius Holst, Human. (Keen)

Class: Scholar Lv. 43

Titles: Silver Scholar, Master Investigator, Expert Historian, Expert Orator, Adept Strategist, Classroom Fiend, Favorite Teacher (3), Cunning, Gem Polisher.

Passive: Lv.4 Swordsmanship, Lv.3 Riding, Mana Mastery, Awareness.

Skills: Identify, Magical Ink, Ward, Mana Blade, Nimble Step, Puncture, Mirage.

“No need to show me yours. I know you two are innocent. Not even the Headmaster of the Imperial Library knows how to smuggle poison through a wall of Sniffers,” Holst said.

What Holst didn’t know was that Sniffers weren’t omniscient or flawless. When they ‘sniffed’ me, they were confused by my smell. They could tell I had traveled far away, but they couldn’t pinpoint the fact that I came from another world. Or maybe they could tell, but they didn’t know another world actually existed, which narrowed their understanding of what was dangerous and what was not.

“We can’t ignore the fact that new Skills appear every year, and that goes for everyone, not only us,” Lyra said. “It doesn’t matter if we find our perfect suspect unless we can prove they were the ones who smuggled the poison into the party.”

“Nobles will not consent to showing their Personal Sheets, even with the Prince pressuring them,” Holst replied, mindlessly tapping his lips.

I sighed. Solving the riddle wouldn’t be as easy as identifying a random Baron just to find they had the hidden ‘Wormhole’ skill.

“Let’s follow the action, step by step, one last time. Lord Osgiria and Prince Adrien had the motivation and the opportunity to conduct the crime. However, I feel we still are overlooking something,” I said, using [Minor Illusion] and [Awareness] to create a copy of the banquet table.

Tables, plates, cups, and cutlery had flown into place in an apparent disarray from the gilded drawers lined along the wall. Holst and Lyra looked at it in awe, if only for an instant. We crossed the room and opened the drawers. Thousands of plates and cups were still stored inside. There was no way the assassin would’ve poisoned them before they reached the table. It was impossible to tell what plate would end up in front of each guest, plus the Sniffers would’ve detected the poison just like they detected Elincia’s potions.

We returned to the illusion.

After the banquet table rearranged itself, the guests slowly walked to their seats. It had been the perfect moment to spike the glasses, but too many people approached the table, searching for their seats to pinpoint the culprit. Then, the Marquis's speech, toast, and poisoning happened in quick succession.

“It must’ve been someone near the victims,” Lyra said.

The Prince and Lord Osgiria fit the description; Prince Adrien was one seat away from Raudhan and Sir Enric, while Lord Osgiria was two seats away from Raudhan and just next to Sir Enric. Both of them could’ve approached the glasses without arousing suspicion.

“We are still missing something,” Holst said, just as Lord Vedras entered the ballroom.

“Can I help with something else?” Lord Vedras asked.

“Yes,” Holst instantly raised his head, his predatory eyes shining with bloodlust. “Can you show us the antidote vial you used with Sir Enric?”

“Excuse me?” Lord Vedras stuttered.

“The empty antidote vial, show it to us,” Holst said.