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At Alma’s alchemist workshop, Velle had just sent another report to headquarters in Pelladia. Finally, they were pleased with her progress, granting her another month to continue leading the descendant team.
In the shared bedroom on the third floor, Velle was preparing to depart north again when Mint entered.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Mint asked, worried. “Didn’t you get chomped by a big bad wolf last time?”
“Relax. No big monsters this time,” Velle replied, adjusting her clothes without looking up. “…Hopefully.”
“Velle!”
“I’ll be fine.” She gave a half-smile. “I just want to talk with Helena’s descendant again. She seems reasonable.”
Mint didn’t respond, just watching Velle with the worried look of an older sister.
As Velle packed, she noticed a flashing symbol on her signal device—a sign Renn was reaching out. She hurried downstairs with Mint to the workshop’s telecommunication device. Soon, Renn’s face appeared on the large screen, updating them on her situation in the east.
At one point, Velle asked how Renn had managed to reach the second floor of Pelladia’s workshop without an alchemist badge.
Renn shrugged. It turned out the Veledot alchemists had alerted Pelladia to give her some bad news, which only made her more determined to find Balehorn. “…Coby escaped from the palace dungeon in Veledot,” she said, her expression grim.
Velle raised an eyebrow. “How did he escape?”
Renn explained what she’d heard. “No signs of a struggle. The guards came back from their break, and he was just gone.”
Velle’s mind raced. “Teleportation.”
Renn nodded, tension tightening her face. “Probably. Which means Theodore is involved again.” She clenched her fists on the desk. “Damn it!”
Velle suggested that Renn report this to headquarters and offer her help as a descendant. With this approach, Renn might be able to secure permission and access to the lab’s location where Alchemist Corp is holding Balehorn.
“Sounds good,” Renn said, standing up. “Good luck with Betty, Velle.”
“Yeah.”
The screen went dark. As Velle and Mint left the room, Mint gave a small shiver.
“They sure are scary, huh? Teleporting around wherever they want…” Mint said, trailing closely behind.
“Maybe so, but there’s something more to it,” Velle replied.
“Huh?” Mint tilted her head, confused.
“The timing feels too perfect.” Velle stopped and looked Mint in the eyes. “For four months, they left Coby in that jail cell. But as soon as Renn decides to head east, where Balehorn is… he breaks out.”
Mint’s eyes widened. “Are you saying they’re… watching us?”
“Think about it,” Velle continued, her voice low and serious. “Besides us and Renn, the only ones who knew about her plan to go east are the alchemists at Veledot’s workshop and those Renn confided in, like Willo and a few others.”
“Wait…” Mint’s voice trembled as the realization sank in. “You think—”
“There’s a mole in Veledot.”
Mint’s face paled. “N-no way…”
“For now, let’s keep Renn’s plans between us,” Velle said. “Once I’m done with Betty, we’ll figure out our next steps.”
With that, Velle departed for Goda, where Helena’s descendant, Betty, awaited. Mint stayed behind, left to handle any new tasks until Velle returned.
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Back in Pelladia, Renn returned to the workshop’s first floor with an alchemist after her conversation with Velle and Mint, where Arthur waited, sipping a drink at one of the tables.
“So, what’s the news?” Arthur asked as Renn and the alchemist approached him.
“The man who used to control Balehorn escaped from Veledot’s prison,” Renn said. “We need to report this to Alchemist Corp headquarters. I’m planning to offer my help to get the lab’s location.”
Arthur rose from his seat, looking a bit concerned. “You realize that if this works, you might be losing your best lead to the cult from Malikah.”
Renn’s shoulders slumped. “I… I know.”
Sensing the tension, the alchemist stepped forward. “I’ll take you to the headquarters. Please, follow me.”
When they reached the headquarters’ main entrance, the alchemist showed his badge and explained the situation to the guards, who exchanged quick glances before granting them access.
Inside, the building was sleek and metallic, almost futuristic. The hallways and floors were crisscrossed with glowing cables, and the vibe was tense, as alchemists moved past one another in silence, focused on their work.
As they moved deeper into the facility, they spotted a tall man with gray hair talking to a few other alchemists. The alchemist escorting Renn and Arthur called out to him. “Excuse me, Mr. Henry.”
Henry, who looked to be in his twenties with bright blue eyes and a serious, unreadable expression, turned to them. His gaze shifted to Arthur and Renn, his tone a bit sharp. “I trust there’s a reason you’ve brought these outsiders into our facility?”
“They believe the man who once controlled Balehorn has escaped and may attempt to reclaim the creature,” the alchemist explained, sounding nervous under Henry’s intense gaze.
Henry’s expression didn’t shift as he pressed, “And? That’s all?”
Arthur decided to step in. “Look, this is serious. You’ve seen the size of Balehorn, haven’t you? If he’s freed, we’re in for a crisis.”
Henry addressed him coolly. “Your Highness, we know what we’re dealing with. Animals, monsters—manipulating them is child’s play for us.”
He stepped closer, looming over Arthur. “What makes you think someone could find our hidden lab, cross the continent unnoticed, and break in without us knowing?”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Because they can teleport,” Renn interjected.
Henry didn’t miss a beat, dismissing the idea. “Ridiculous. If that were true, mana trains would be obsolete. We are the most advanced minds on the Mainland.”
“But it’s real! There was no sign of struggle or escape—he just vanished!”
Henry challenged her, “Did you see this ‘teleportation’ with your own eyes?”
Renn fell silent, realizing she hadn’t.
“Thought so.” Henry turned, barely glancing over his shoulder. “My advice? Stick to hunting monsters and leave the thinking to us alchemists. That’s what you hunters are good at—muscle, not mind.”
And with that, they were dismissed. As they left the headquarters, the alchemist bid them farewell, leaving Renn and Arthur alone in the industrial complex outside.
“What’s with that guy?!” Renn stomped her foot, clearly frustrated.
Arthur chuckled lightly. “I’ve seen him around a few times, but he’s never seemed like the friendliest sort. Not exactly Mr. Congeniality.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “So, what’s the plan? Head north to the mountains like Malikah suggested?”
Renn took a breath, focusing. “Yeah, let’s go. Balehorn is our priority right now.”
After gathering supplies, the two of them set off, traveling north by foot and prepared for days of camping. Renn’s skills as a monster hunter soon became evident, especially compared to Arthur, who, despite appearances, wasn’t nearly as strong as she’d expected.
Though she kept the secret of her hero’s lineage as Velle had requested, Arthur eventually pieced it together during one of their training sessions, where Renn honed her powers in secret.
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Meanwhile, Velle reached the city of Goda, bypassing Kaska to deal with Betty as swiftly as possible before resuming her mission to uncover the mole spying on her team. But as she approached Goda by evening, she sensed something unsettling in the air.
Everything appeared normal at a glance, and she could even detect Betty’s Mana signature from the mansion. But the city was eerily quiet. No chatter, no laughter—people moved through the streets with an unnatural calm, and some even bumped into each other without so much as an apology.
Some townsfolk seemed aware that something was wrong, glancing around as if they, too, felt the strange shift.
When Velle stepped into the local alchemist workshop, she noticed an unnatural stillness. Only a few hunters were around, and the atmosphere was tense. She approached the receptionist, sensing something was very off.
“What’s going on here?” Velle asked, her tone probing.
The receptionist looked up, her expression filled with fear. “Y-you’re…”
“One of the descendants,” Velle confirmed briskly. “Has Helena’s descendant done something here?”
The receptionist swallowed hard. “We… we don’t know. It started a month ago. People just began acting… strange. But Helena’s descendant hasn’t done anything suspicious—she rarely leaves her place.”
Velle’s brows furrowed. “Then why haven’t you reported it?”
The receptionist started to reply, but then her face contorted, her body moving in odd, jerky motions as a wide, unnatural grin spread across her face. Her voice changed, eerie and mocking. “Why would I want you to know just yet?”
She laughed, a chilling sound that made the few others in the workshop glance over in horror, the warm orange light from the setting sun casting unsettling shadows.
Velle’s eyes narrowed, locking onto the twisted expression on the receptionist’s face. “What do you want, Betty?”
“Oh, just a little practice~” The receptionist’s smile widened. “Can’t a girl have a bit of fun? Is that so wrong?”
“Release them, now.” Velle’s voice was hard, her gaze unwavering despite the disturbing sight in front of her.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here for blood. Just having a little fun.” She paused, then smirked. “But if you want me to stop, why don’t you come by tonight? You wanted to see me anyway, didn’t you?”
“Tonight?” Velle questioned, her voice steady but edged with caution.
“Yes, tonight,” the receptionist echoed with a mischievous glint. “We’ll chat over tea, just like old times. Isn’t that why you’re here?” She cackled again.
“Or we could talk right now,” Velle suggested coolly, her posture hinting at readiness.
The receptionist’s smirk deepened. “Impatient, aren’t we? But…” She leaned close, her face mere inches from Velle’s. “I won’t take responsibility if things… get messy.”
It sounded like a bluff, but Velle could sense Betty’s willingness to cause harm if things didn’t go her way. Deciding not to push her luck, she retreated to a local inn to wait for nightfall.
When darkness finally settled, Velle set out alone toward Betty’s mansion, her daggers secure on her belt, the silver of their edges glinting in the moonlight.
The mansion wasn’t isolated enough to avoid affecting the nearby buildings if a fight broke out, so Velle moved forward with careful deliberation, her senses sharp and her mind focused on the confrontation ahead.
Velle slipped through the slightly open gate, moving cautiously as her hand hovered near the daggers on her belt. The mansion grounds were silent, with only Betty’s butler standing at the front door, his posture impeccable as he waited for her approach. As she drew closer, he bowed with practiced elegance.
“Welcome, Miss Velle,” he greeted with a formal tone. “Miss Betty is expecting you inside.” He opened the door with a slight nod, gesturing for her to enter.
“I figured,” Velle replied, glancing up. Betty’s Mana signature was unmistakable, radiating from the second floor despite the thick walls. With a final steadying breath, she crossed the threshold, navigating her way up toward the source of that dark, magnetic aura.
The dining hall awaited her. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, illuminating the vast room in an ethereal glow that rendered the chandeliers and candles unnecessary. At the head of a long table filled with polished tableware, Betty sat serenely, sipping tea from a delicate cup. Another set waited at the opposite end, prepared for Velle.
“Take a seat,” Betty invited, her voice carrying clearly despite the distance, as if the silence of the hall amplified her words.
Without a word, Velle sat down. The teapot at her end of the table tilted of its own accord, pouring tea into her cup with a quiet, graceful motion. In the moonlight, the tea’s dark, purplish hue almost looked black.
“Vitamortis,” Betty said, her eyes closed as she savored another sip. “Brewed from the midnight-blooming Noxbloom. The flower only opens on the night it fully matures…” Her voice trailed off, seemingly savoring the knowledge as much as the tea.
Velle watched her, her gaze steady, her senses alert for any shift in the room’s energy.
“…But miss the timing, and its quality declines,” Betty continued, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Use the unbloomed flower, and it’s deadly poison. It’s among the rarest—and riskiest—brews in existence. Care to try?”
With a glance at her cup, Velle raised it to her lips. The tea was bitter at first, but as it lingered on her tongue, the taste softened into an intense sweetness that grew almost overwhelming, prompting her to swallow.
Satisfied, Betty continued, watching her intently. “They say it grants longevity, even youthfulness… but only if you savor the right taste. Which one, however—bitter or sweet—is the real key? No one truly knows.” She took another sip, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Personally, I like to hold it in my mouth for just three to four seconds—”
“Enough,” Velle cut in, her voice sharp. “What are you guys after? Why help Coby escape Veledot now, of all times?”
Betty lowered her cup, unfazed. “Is that really what brought you here?” She tilted her head, studying Velle. “Or did you have something else in mind?”
Velle hesitated, then spoke with quiet resolve. “I’m here to talk you into joining our cause.”
“Now that,” Betty murmured with a faint smile, rising gracefully from her chair, “is more like it.” She moved toward the window, her dark, frilled dress trailing behind her in soft waves. The moonlight caught strands of her long pink hair, making it glimmer faintly in the dark. “Theodore predicted you’d come to find me eventually. Said I was free to make my own choice when the time came.”
Velle rose as well. “You don’t seem on board with killing Neona. Join us, Betty. Let’s stop them together.”
A thoughtful expression crossed Betty’s face, almost serene. “It’s true, killing the Goddess of Light is a bit… excessive. But if we do nothing, the ancient beasts will awaken, just as the prophecy foretold.”
“Then we take down the cults before that can happen,” Velle countered firmly. “Howl’s already targeting one of their hideouts. We’re making progress.”
Betty turned to face her, her gentle expression a stark contrast to the eerie show she performed on the receptionist earlier this evening. “A solid plan,” she admitted, “but there’s something I want to be certain of first.”
Without warning, silverware and other small items around the room began to lift into the air, hovering ominously. Velle’s eyes narrowed as she caught sight of faint, glowing pink threads—thin but unbreakable, connecting each floating item to Betty. They extended from her fingers like ethereal puppet strings.
“I need to see if you’re worthy of my assistance,” Betty said softly, her black eyes bright with an eerie pink glow as Helena’s Mana flared within her.
Velle readied her stance, drawing her catalyst-dagger hybrids, Zephyr and Eurus, from her belt. She’d sensed this might lead to a fight, but not on this scale.
Betty, it seemed, had mastered Helena’s powers in only four months. And now, the powers of one of the legendary heroes, codenamed “Puppeteer”, were about to be unleashed.
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