Hecate noticed the broken wood in the corridor. She hurried, and the tray in her hand wobbled. She peeked into Iris’s room. The sight before her was as if five hundred clawed beasts had an orgy.
Iris was sitting in the centre on her purple hard platform, Winny on her lap, and Iris was drying her with a towel. What Hecate found most peculiar in the situation was that Iris was naked.
“Iris!” Hecate called as she rushed in. She wasn't expected to knock on the broken door that lay on the floor.
“Hecate… Good morning,” Iris replied, her hand still moving through the black feline. On some level, Hecate found Winny creepy. The lack of emotion in her eyes was something Hecate could not get over, even if Winny was too cute to stay away.
“Good morning,” Hecate looked around to find something to sit on, but there was nothing. “I have a cake for you…”
Hecate didn't miss the way Iris’s lips pressed thin at those words. Did she hate cake? Hecate found that question nonsense even in her own mind, so she didn't ask.
“Thank you, but I already had my breakfast,” Iris lied. The Old Hag had given her a second plate and also told her that Iris had not once eaten in the mansion.
“Hmm…” Hecate stared at her. She wanted to ask her why, but Diantha would know, and Hecate wanted to leave all the tiresome jobs to her.
“Alright then, I’ll eat it myself.”
...
Iris and Hecate reached the main hall. Ilona was sitting on the sofa, a red file in her hand. She looked at them.
“Hecate… did you see it again?” Ilona asked, placing the file on the table.
“I did,” Hecate replied as she placed the plates on the table.
“Is it that Raven?” Iris asked, curious. Her bony finger pointed at the Raven that was intently staring at Hecate. Iris, of course, connected both incidents from the outburst in the Colosseum and Hecate’s blatant abhorrence for the Raven.
Hecate's face twisted in a mixture of emotions. Ilona snapped her fingers, and the window turned completely white, hiding the raven. Hecate sighed and seemed to deflate.
“Yes,” Hecate replied, her tone was saddening for Iris to hear. She didn't want Hecate to sound so hateful.
“Are you not going to ask what it is?” Hecate questioned, her tone accusatory. Iris did not want to hear about that thing, she very much wanted to shift the topic, A part of her was beginning to regret ever pointing at the raven.
“You don’t want to talk about it,” Iris stated.
“I don’t,” Hecate confirmed.
“Then, you don’t need to,” Iris assured her, feeling guilty for ruining Hecate’s warm mood.
“Thank you for understanding…” Hecate took a seat beside Ilona, who gently patted her back.
What now? Iris asked herself as she awkwardly stood in her spot.
Iris searched for something else to discuss. “Is Ianthe up?” she asked, finally finding a suitable conversation starter.
“I am,” Ianthe replied, her presence as intimidating as ever. Her voice was powerful and resonating, something Iris secretly wished she had. Ianthe's height, her long hair – it was as though she was born to make Iris feel jealous. Of course, Iris was not foolish enough to say such a thing.
“Are you alright—” Before Iris could finish her sentence, Ianthe went to her knees and hugged Iris's stomach, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry.
“T-thank you…” Her voice was like a scared child. She continued to speak of gratitude. Of how grateful she was and how she will forever be indebted to her.
Iris patted her head and stood still, waiting for Ianthe to calm down. Iris did not have any assurance to give her. She was not her saviour. Ilona saved her.
“I-I'm grateful, I never thought someone would care about me, even my father did not… I know this freedom is limited, my master is too powerful. She will capture me again. But still, showing kindness, making me feel warm again, I will always hold it dear to my heart.”
“It's alright, you're free now,” Iris finally said, her hand gently caressing Ianthe's hair. “Your master will not come here to take you, not when Lady Ilona is here.”
It was the best she could say. Iris couldn't assure Ianthe with her own strength, not when she knew she would soon leave and slowly wither away. Soon, Ianthe calmed down and let go of her, still on the floor and looking like a lost child, unsure of what to do next.
“Are you feeling any pain?” Ilona asked, her voice warm. How could she have a voice so warm despite her strength? Thought the girl with the most innocent and child-like voice while being one of the strongest humans in the world.
“N-no,” Ianthe replied.
“Hmm… I can offer you a stay with me if you’d like. Isolde cannot do anything to you as long as you’re with me. Will you stay here?”
“I will be grateful…”
…
Diantha stood at the entrance of an alleyway, where the overwhelming smell of Hert repulsed her. It left her wondering why. The problem of Hert had never been a significant issue in Sangfroid. There were a few degenerates here and there, but nothing more.
However, it was the second day in a row that, whenever she tried to explore the less developed side of the city, she encountered Hert. Not just any Hert, but a type that was far too pure for the broke individuals who lived here to afford. Where were they getting it from? That was what she wanted to know. And, more importantly, who was supplying it?
That was the agenda with which she had set out, taking Iris with her. Why Iris? Well, she was short-handed on people in this unfamiliar place, and Iris had nothing to do other than sit in the gloom. Ilona had taken Hecate to train, and Ianthe had accompanied her. Diantha knew that Ianthe would stay with them for a long time.
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“This stench is the same as…,” Iris paused, looking at the Imperial Knight who was accompanying them. Diantha considered excusing him from duty, but she knew the inspector would be less than pleased if she did. That made it all the more tempting. However, she was most interested in the reason why Iris did not want to speak in front of the Knight.
Iris didn't seem like someone who cared about a Knight. Just two nights ago, she had declared her willingness to destroy the Empire if it stood between her and a duel.
“As?” Diantha prompted, wanting to know how unwilling Iris was to speak in front of the Knight.
“I met a less than pleasant man on the first day… he had the same stench,” Iris explained, only revealing a partial truth.
In reality, Iris had encountered a man and killed him when he attempted to rape Jill, the daughter of Miss Ansel.
Diantha had been monitoring every interaction Iris had since she appeared in front of the entrance. Jasper was unironically as good a Musician as Spy. Diantha had ordered him to find the source of this issue.
So, why was she out here herself, you might wonder? She was observing the effects of Hert. Words couldn't fully convey the suffering of the people involved. She wanted to witness it firsthand. Not the suffering of the addicts, but the suffering of those affected by the addicts. Depending on how the situation unfolded, she might need to take strong corrective action.
“I see…” Diantha acknowledged as she stepped into the alley. She was quite sensitive to smells and allergic to most fragrances, including perfumes. This made her visits to the Court of Laks torture. She didn't understand why that place had such a penchant for bizarre and rather unpleasant scents. Now, she was about to find out if she was allergic to Hert.
Diantha felt an urge to vomit as she breathed in the foul air. She placed a handkerchief over her face as if that could protect her from a scent that seemed to take on physical form.
Iris snapped her hand and created a barrier around their face, now she was smelling the scent of lightning. Now, she could only smell lightning. Don’t ask her how, she was very much less knowledgeable about the mystical side of things than you are.
“Copying Lady Ilona, I see,” Diantha chuckled. She saw how Lady Ilona changed the colour of the window. She found Iris's attempt to imitate Ilona quite endearing. Iris was like a child, very naive. Not naive in the sense of being foolish or simple-minded, but in her awkwardness in situations that couldn't be solved with spells. Like now, Iris's face turned completely red at Diantha's offhand comment.
“Are you feeling bashful?” Diantha whispered playfully before noticing the hulking metallic statue following behind her. She could tell that Iris didn't appreciate his presence. He was unnecessary. Diantha turned and ordered him to wait at the carriage.
The carriage was one of the peculiar traditions of Gracia. She needed to travel in the carriage to maintain her appearance, even though there were motor vehicles that could travel much faster. Diantha was growing tired of the carriages.
“Once the inspector is dead, I’ll order vehicles to be the ideal transport vehicles,” Diantha thought out loud. It wasn't a mistake; she was very much telling Iris to be excited about the future. After all, the only person who seemed to hate carriages more than her was Iris.
“Inspector is dead? Do you plan to kill him?” Iris inquired.
Diantha facepalmed herself, but only in her imagination. She hadn't informed Iris of the full plan.
“It escaped my mind. I have yet to inform you of the intentions behind the drama inside the castle—” She was going to inform Iris that night, but Iris had excused herself, and after that, she was in no condition to care about Diantha's insignificant plan.
“You remember Brian Reed insulting me in front of everyone,” Diantha continued.
“I do. If not for your sake, I would've killed him,” Iris responded bitterly.
“So, I let his insult slide, and you should've also noticed the way the inspector was sweating.”
“I did, and that was honestly the weirdest thing in that situation.”
“I will explain that part. There are nine Grand Dukes and Duchesses in the Empire, one in each state. We are like the nine gems of the Crown. When someone insults me publicly, they insult the Emperor. I am bound by stipulation and cannot harm Brian Reed or force him to any punishment. If I could, I would be duty-bound to do so, or I might be in for swift execution by the Emperor.”
“But I am still the Grand Duchess. As such, I implored the Inspector, who had the power to do so. He did not— he let the insult on the Crown slide without even a fake punishment. It's the same as slapping the Emperor. Now, if he fails to win the wager, he will be executed for royal treason. And if I lose, which I will not, he would have an argument for letting the insult slide. Until that day, I alone had something to lose. Now, it is equal for us. You can say— I had expected that situation.”
“I see…” Iris nodded, “But… why did the Inspector not imprison him? He could have freed him later.”
“Inspector very well would’ve wanted to do so, but his alliance with Laurent did not allow such leeway. Such is the tragedy of partnership when the partner wants to get rid of you as much as your enemy.”
“You mean Laurent ordered Little Reed to do so with the same intention as you have,” Iris deduced.
“Of course. If she could not get rid of me, the Inspector would be on her throat for the rest of his duration in Gracia. As such, she needed the situation where either I or he fades out from the picture.”
“Laurent certainly has a plan for this farce.”
“So does Lambert. He simply does not believe there is a chance I would fall in this farce, so he never participated.”
“When I met Laurent, she told me something,” Iris revealed.
Diantha had a myriad of guesses for what it could be. “What did she tell you?”
“That you killed Hecate’s whole family, and Felix’s mother and older brother,” Iris stated plainly, devoid of emotion, as if she were reading a statement.
“I did that,” Diantha confirmed.
“They must be really bad people if Hecate and Felix still like you so much,” Iris said matter-of-factly, contrary to the expected reaction. Diantha wondered how Iris came to this kind of opposite conclusion.
“Or they were too young to realize their loss, and I filled the role of missing figures in their life,” Diantha offered.
“Hmm… No, if that were the case, then…” Iris paused, looking around as if searching for something. “If that was true, then you would’ve never come to this place, which your body rejects so violently. It is a foolish act of charity with no benefit.”
Diantha smiled; she had conjured a great image in Iris’s mind. “What if I’m here to make you believe simply that?”
“Does my child-like voice create that naive of a persona?”
“No… I am just trying to see how much depth hides beneath that disarming voice,” Diantha replied,
“Then, Laurent has an unassuming boy, who at least is Level 6, or might even be 7. He could conceal himself to the point of perfection,” Iris said, sounding extremely interested in the topic for once.
“If he could conceal himself so well, how did you see through him in a conversation that lasted less than 5 minutes?” Diantha inquired, her voice devoid of tension, although she held a lot inside. If there was truly a Level 7 hiding among them, she might need to beg Lady Ilona for help.
“When there is a great presence, it twists the atmosphere around them. But when you suck in the presence, that twisted space does not return to normal. He concealed himself, but the world that twisted around him did not mend. If he was used to hiding from High-level humans, he would have understood that, but he was not. However, his concealment technique was perfect. Only humans see the twisted atmosphere, not the monsters, so he is from a Greater Labyrinth. Only then would he make such a silly mistake, just like I did on the first day and leave a trail behind for Felix to follow me.”
“Hmm… So Laurent has a wanderer with her, that explains a few things.”
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted as a woman came running toward them, appearing insane, with her mouth agape and red liquid flowing down her chin. She seemed enraged and growled like a primitive.
Before Diantha had a chance to think about what to do, Iris tapped her leg on a muddy patch, and a circle formed beneath the woman. She was swallowed inside a purple pillar that pierced the heavens above.
“What!” Diantha exclaimed, staring at Iris in perplexity.
“She was going to blow and would've taken everything around her, including the sleeping children above the roof,” Iris explained.
“How can you be so sure…” Diantha realized how absurd her question was.
“Her mana was simulated to the point where it started collapsing and expanding, like a bomb.”