Chapter 22: Thomas Doriscillian

In a private library within the mansion of Doriscillians, a lady could be seen on one of the chairs. She was wearing a beautiful one-piece dress. In front of her was a book about mysticism, specifically ritualistic magic.

One has to recite the name and incantation of the deity or pillar without large breaks. Mainly objects with a larger amount of spirituality should be used...

Instead of Incantation, one can also use wordings that define the strength and features of the entity. But wordings matter, and should be said in a respectful manner.

She delicately raised the warm Grey Leaf Coffee to her lips, savoring the rich flavor that danced on her taste buds. Without a sound, she concluded the page, meticulously reviewing the mystic knowledge before neatly shelving the book. As she contemplated selecting another volume, the library was graced with approaching footsteps.

"What's on your mind, Gracia?" She inquired without diverting her gaze or breaking her focus, choosing yet another book that delved into the intricacies of affinities and gates.

Gracia, clad in an elegant one-piece dress, possessed jet-black hair and striking blue eyes—a signature trait passed down in the Doriscillian lineage.

Observing the two women in the library, one would struggle to differentiate between the lady seated and Gracia Doriscillian, were it not for the subtle nuances in their features, like the brown hair of the lady seated on the chair.

"Eriana," Gracia's voice sliced through the air, addressing Eriana by her code name, Doll. However, as the name left her lips, an evident lump seemed to lodge itself in her throat. After a brief pause, Gracia continued with a mix of concern and exasperation, "Are... Are you out of your mind? Are you—! Sigh."

A measured breath followed, as she composed herself before reiterating, "Eriana, are you out of your mind? Do you want to die?"

In response, Eriana nonchalantly lifted her coffee for another sip, finally turning her gaze toward Gracia. "What happened, big sis?" she inquired with an air of casual indifference.

"Don't pretend like you know nothing, and stop putting on that air of maturity, my dear sis," Gracia's words carried a mix of frustration and helplessness as she gazed at Eriana. The transformation in her sister's demeanor, from the once-childish sibling to a more mature version approaching the age of 20, had a profound impact on Gracia's own personality, especially after their mother's passing.

Eriana's newfound focus on studies and gradual maturation, coupled with a growing sense of resilience, left Gracia feeling a sense of nostalgia for the days when her sister was carefree and lively. The weight of those happy memories lingered in her mind.

Taking another sip of her coffee, Eriana looked at Gracia with determination. "I will do whatever it takes to catch that bastard, Ripper."

"Don't curse. It doesn't suit a young, refined lady like you," Gracia advised, adding after a brief pause, "I understand your feelings. However, think calmly, be cautious. A wizard who is not cautious is a dead wizard. This applies even to masters or those who come in contact with the supernatural or mysticism."

"Eriana, even I want to catch the culprit. But it won't be right if you go with Echo all alone. Moreover, he called you a slut yesterday! A Leno bird!"

"Sigh, sis, you complete your part of the mission while I do mine. That's final," Eriana declared. Hearing this, Gracia gritted her teeth and said, "Well, if you're so adamant about going with Sir Echo, then I will come with you too!"

"No, you cannot. If the genius, serious and vigilant daughter of Baron who loves mysticism skips classes too many times, then it would be too suspicious. Even if Father doesn't check up on us, Uncle or Aunt will," Eriana tried to explain.

Gracia sighed, conceding defeat. "All right, you win. But remember, don't do something foolish. And take this." She presented Eriana with a necklace, a seemingly ordinary piece.

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"It has defensive properties. When activated, it forms a protective barrier around you. It should at least withstand the strength of a wizard at gate two, particularly one skilled in duels and attack spells," Gracia explained. Eriana, however, remained absorbed in her book, offering a simple nod while finishing the last sip of her coffee.

'Sigh, look at her, trying to put on airs of maturity and intellect,' Gracia thought as she approached the door of the private library, unlocked it, and stepped out.

In the span of an hour, Eriana immersed herself in the profound knowledge of the book, absorbing its contents before finally reaching its conclusion. Retrieving her pocket watch, a delicate and smaller version compared to the ones typically used by men, she noted the time.

"It's 4:30; it'll take me approximately two and a half hours to reach the address Sir Echo provided. Sigh, Brassington sure is a vast city," she mused, rising from her seat and giving precise instructions to her maidservants to prepare a bath. Seated again, her expression took on a thoughtful quality.

After a brief moment, Amy, one of her main maidservants, appeared. "Young Miss, the bath is ready."

"Alright, coming." Eriana, as if shedding her worries, began to hum as she made her way to the washroom. It was a calculated act to ensure the maids remained unsuspecting.

"The blue necklace looks beautiful on you, miss," complimented the maidservant. Eriana smiled and nodded. She then entered the washroom, where special maids delicately assisted her with the bath.

Upon emerging, she found her main maidservant patiently waiting. With a warm smile, she inquired, "Which dress would you like to wear, miss?"

"The one given by Uncle Thomas, with beautiful flower-like designs on it."

"Good choice, miss." The main maidservant's gaze subtly conveyed the choice to an assistant maidservant, who promptly understood.

From the 4th dressing room emerged a maidservant holding a green dress adorned with exquisite flower-like patterns. The maidservants meticulously went about their tasks, ensuring every detail was perfected — from the dress and accessories to footwear, makeup, and hairstyle. Strangely, the blue necklace gifted by Gracia remained, seamlessly complementing Eriana's attire.

"Miss, you look fabulous." The main Maidservant wasn't stingy in her compliments at all, showering Eriana with them. A faint smile appeared on Eriana's face as she gave a subtle nod while looking at herself in the mirror once again.

"Miss, tonight you'll be required to attend Baron Daren's banquet." The main maidservant Amy said. Hearing this, Eriana didn't react but inwardly she frowned.

"Around?"

"Around 7:30 pm."

'Hmm, well by then I should be back, right?' She pondered and then finally opened her mouth to speak.

"Well, alright. I might be a bit late, but if that happens, do manage the situation somehow."

"Late? Miss, are you going somewhere?"

"Yes." Eriana nodded, casting a confused look on Amy's face. However, before Amy could inquire further, she said, "You don't have the authority to ask me, and surely you can report to my father." These words struck Amy like a shock. Eriana seemed to be someone who was very kind, and in truth, she really was...

It appears Madam's death had a more profound impact on her than I anticipated... Amy thought. In the end, she could only pity her young miss.

"Miss, should I ask the bodyguards to accompany you?"

"No need." Eriana shook her head and stood up. Amy, though wanting to intervene, didn't utter a word. Instead, she discreetly whispered instructions to one of the maidservants.

"Keep Miss here for a while." Amy then left the room, navigating through the corridors until she reached Baron Temar's door. She knocked.

"Come in." Baron's voice echoed, and she entered. The room was adorned with decorations and portraits. Baron Temar, in a reclining chair, had brown hair and blue eyes.

Dark circles lingered beneath his eyes, and his skin showed signs of pallor. A slightly messy mustache adorned his face. Time had left its mark, broadening his waist and casting a shadow of melancholy over his once-vibrant appearance.

Though nearly eight months had passed since his wife's demise, the weight of grief persisted. Despite resuming business activities, a sense of sadness and depression lingered, evident in his declining health.

Amy, still bowing slightly, said, "Young Miss is going out for some personal business."

"I know." Baron's hoarse voice was low. Hearing this, Amy asked, "Should I send a bodyguard along with Young Miss?"

"No need," he said suddenly, surprising her. "She has already reached the rank of master," Baron continued.

'What?' Amy was utterly shocked. Even the prodigies at the academies achieved this rank around the ages of 22 to 25. It demanded exceptional talent, dedicated practice, and extensive learning—a feat not easily accomplished by everyone.

In a respectful tone, she said, "Even though it is not my place to say this, reaching the master rank does not necessarily mean she can protect herself."

"Indeed," Baron replied, closing his eyes and taking a puff from his cigar. "Moreover, she is about to reach twenty; she's already an adult. She should be given freedom like Gracia."

In the end, the maidservant could only sigh in defeat as she left the room. Baron, too, sighed in his heart. He clearly knew that his daughter was working with an organization, but the only reason he didn't make a move was because of his brother Thomas...

'What exactly is he planning?'